Reality bites.

Well, reverse culture shock is a definite but sometimes it's very subtle. For the most part I just keep asking myself- did any of that really happen or was it just all a dream? Today, actually, has been my very first day completely to myself to actually ponder over that. From the time I've gotten home I've gone from one holiday party to another, spent time with family and friends, talked about my grandma's cancer like it was an object you could see or touch while looking at her and barely even noticing an ailment and gave the robotic answers countless times the questions about my trip. Before I left I couldn't wait to sit down with my family and friends and banter endlessly about the experience without being able to stop, boring everyone to tears. Yet, coming home the truth is, I have no idea what to say about any of it because it's completely surreal. Do I really have a boyfriend on the other side of the Atlantic? Did I really work in that clinic? Can I actually speak French? And worst of all, am I going to go back in September and start it all over again?

For the most part everything here is the same. The same feelings, the same thoughts, the same people, the same sights and sounds and life. Yet now I'm totally conflicted about all of it. In my room linger memories of my time with Benny. My best friend is no longer in Athens and I don't even feel like going out, let alone do I have the tolerance for it. My grandma might be dying. I see how tired my family is. On Christmas my three year-old niece opened all her presents, paid no attention to them and just kept saying, "I want more presents". Before I left I would've found that behavior hilarious and typical of children but now I just find it disgusting. Even children in this country are materialistic. I came back to my room at my parents' place and I realized that I have so many outfits and so many things and I wanted to cry out of frustration because I have so much excess that I'm not even sure what to do with it all. I just feel like I'm drowning in things, literally.

I'm not allowed to mention my boyfriend in front of my grandfather; he's racist. My family is actually afraid that my talking about my boyfriend could be bad for his health. My mom told me that if Alex and I got married and had children it would be kind of selfish. Selfish for two people who love each other to make a family just because our children would fall into the "other" box for the question of race. I realize that life would be very difficult for them but how could that be selfish? It's not my fault that people are ignorant, and even knowing that they are and that my children wouldn't have it as easily as someone totally white or even totally black I don't feel it'd ever be selfish for me to want children with my husband, regardless of the color of his skin.

I feel like going back to Senegal is the best thing for my future. I loved it there so much and I honestly left feeling like I wouldn't have to miss it because I'd just be right back. Teaching would help build my resume, get me into grad school. I could see where things could possible go with Alex or finish things in person if that's what needed to be done. I would have the opportunity to volunteer at some NGOs and start getting some real career experience and I could research and see a lot of things I didn't have time for before. On the other hand, I'd be totally poor and struggling like hell to make ends meet, probably living worse than in the dorms and eating rice every meal of the day but it'd be all a part of the experience.

I feel like I have so much on my plate right now. Alex doesn't understand that if I come back it doesn't necessarily mean I'm going to marry him. I don't understand what it does mean myself. I'm scared that I'll make a mistake. It was so easy when I was there to think about marrying Alex and having a million beautiful babies with him. It seemed unquestionable, why not? It was a fairy tale. Now I've been home for two weeks and the whole thing sounds a little ridiculous to me. How am I going to have a boyfriend who is so far away for at least the next 9 months? Do I even really love him or was he just the first guy to ever treat me the way I deserve? I'm terrified of marriage now that I'm back here. I'm too young and I'm too unsettled and I have no idea what I even want out of life.

I'm graduating so soon and time has gone so fast these past four years. I love that I've had the opportunity to pursue everything that I've ever wanted to and I believe there is still a lot more to come for me. Which is maybe why I'm afraid of tying myself down now or of tying myself into a relationship that would be a constant struggle to survive and a constant fight against society and a tough melange of cultures. At the same time I'm scared to death of hurting this person who's done absolutely everything right and who deserves no pain. Yet, you can't marry someone just so not to hurt them. It's so complicated.

I'm not ready to go out, I'm scared to walk around in streets I used to walk alone in all the time. I hear people talk about stupid drama and it disgusts me. I can't even think straight and I don't really feel anything at all. All I know is that time feels like it's standing still but in reality it's moving faster than I can even imagine and I just don't know if there is life after Senegal.