re-entry shock

Re-entry shock. It's real. And I have it.

It started in the Houston airport. I can't pinpoint why, but that place overwhelmed me. I literally felt like I had arrived on an alien planet. In a dazed fashion, I walked through the bright, shiny, clean hallways, staring at everything like a deer in headlights. And although everyone was speaking English, my brain would respond in Spanish, so before speaking I'd have to remind myself, "No. Answer in English!"

Upon arrival in Cleveland, I put on my winter coat. It felt and still feels uncomfortable and restrictive. It has me questioning if I've gained more weight than I thought, but I think I am just not used to wearing a thick, puffy coat. Or any coat, for that matter.

My parents' house, the house I grew up in, is baffling. Short and petite, I never thought I'd feel this way, but walking around this house, I feel like a giant. Love & Hope is so open, airy, it's ceilings so high, that this house feels small and cramped. And the stairs, which haven't changed in 16 years, are weird. I am not exactly sure what the problem is, but they are different than the L&H stairs, so I keep tripping on them.

It's been almost 48 hours since my arrival and every time I go to the bathroom I still look for a trashcan in which to throw my toilet paper before remembering I can throw it in the toilet.

Last night I saw several former L&H missionaries. And although I was glad to see them, seeing them here in the states, out of context, was very surreal. It's almost as if my brain believes they should only exist in El Salvador.

I've also discovered that while I have been annoyed with how Salvadorans are overly polite, even when they are telling you something they know you won't like, I am starting to prefer that to American abrasiveness, rudeness and apathy.

For these, and other reasons I can't fully explain, I am feeling out-of-place and overwhelmed.