Two-faced…

I feel like my life is split into two totally separate parts — Work-time and Dad-time. At work, from about 8-4, I am busy planning to implement a project-based model for grade 9 next year, team-teaching an interdisciplinary business project, as well as all of the other fun stuff that comes with teaching (meetings, meetings, and meetings). At home, I do my best to make the most of the 4-6 hours a day I get to spend with Norah. This involves giving B some time for herself. I try to be home in time to put Norah down for her late afternoon/early evening nap, and then aim to spend most of her waking time playing with her before the bedtime routine begins. I feed her a bottle, and put her down in her crib, and B and I have an hour or two of time together before going to bed.
However, things come up that totally throw a wrench in this routine. And, because I am the one working outside of the home, I am inevitably the cause of those things. Take next week, for example. Next week, I am in San Francisco leading a team of teachers on site visits of schools that embrace inquiry and project-based learning. That means for 4 long days, B gets no break from Norah. B gets no time for herself. And Teaching doesn’t get to see Norah. Or B. He stays in a hotel near the waterfront, tours cool schools, and eats at restaurants. All the while, missing the heck out of B & Norah. And wishing he was at home, watching Norah change and grow, and giving B a few minutes of sanity. At least this is a temporary thing — four days that will pass. And thank goodness for skype…I wonder if Norah will recognize my face and voice?

Culture Shock

I have been home from Cambodia since June 14th of this year — just under 4 months ago. I was away for two full school years, with a 6 week visit the summer between. When I was home in between years, people kept asking if I was experiencing reverse culture shock — I confidently declared that no, I wasn’t, and didn’t plan on it. Even when I was in Cambodia, the culture shock was minimal. I had prepared as best I could for the transition, learning about Khmer culture, reading up on daily life in Phnom Penh, peppering people with questions. I had a built-in support system in my wife. Also, I was in a pretty western environment at first — gated community, international school, etc. So, I slowly made the transition to life in South-east Asia, and as such, the transition went rather unnoticed.

This lack of trouble adapting when I moved has resulted in the surprise I currently feel at the reverse culture shock that is stalking me daily. Some symptoms — every day, sometimes more than once, I miss the people I hung out with in Cambodia, I miss aspects of daily life in Phnom Penh, I hear a sound or smell a smell and am instantly transported back into our apartment or to the riverside or to my classroom. I send many emails to my “international” friends, and delight in a quick gmail chat with one of them every once in a while. It’s not that I want to go back — even if we did go back, it would be totally different, as is the case with most expat communities. Most of our friends moved on to other places – Arizona, Cairo, Malaysia. Yet, I find myself missing it daily and reveling in stories told to my students and staff.

On the weekend I caught up with a friend who spent 18 months in Taiwan. I shared my feelings and he told me that he still feels this way — and he’s been back in Canada for two and a half years. I knew the trip would change me; I never doubted that. The knowledge and perspective I’ve acquired is immeasurable. However, I didn’t think I’d feel like this upon returning home. Culture shock comes when a person has trouble assimilating into a culture. I’m beginning to think the problem isn’t me, it’s the culture.