Stages of Transitioning

This blog is more than just a way for me to keep you all back at home informed and give you a way to experience these new things with me, it is also a sort of journal for me- a way to keep track of the memories and process the things I am experiencing. One thing that has been interesting has been the stages of transitioning. Adjusting to a new culture is...strange. It is something I have never experienced and will always take time. I have always heard people talk about things like culture shock, jet lag, adjusting to new cultures, but never really understood them-I have learned these are things you can only experience for yourself because it is unique to everyone. However, I will do my best to convey this, also for myself because it is weird to now be adjusted and looking back.

The initial stage is excitement and anxiety. That is when you are on the plane, leaving everyone and everything you care about back home and trusting that this new, foreign place will be everything you imagined. It is nerve-wracking, I remember feeling butterflies like never before. There is also a slight part of you that says "it's not too late to turn back right?" because the place you are going is completely new and therefore a bit intimidating. By the time the plane lands and you first step into this new country, you are in a strange state of mind- it feels so unreal to actually be here, after dreaming of it and planning for years, to actually be in the country for the first time feels surreal. The first couple days, maybe even a week, you keep this excited, but anxious sensation. It is kind of fun and entertaining that we have to turn on the hot water and outlets before using them! You really don't know anyone, all the signs are in Greek, everyone speaks Greek, and everyone is driving on the wrong side of the road..AND on the wrong side of the car! All the food is different, smells are different, styles are different. You are dropped off at your safety zone of the apartments (on a street I still can not pronounce) and have no knowledge of the world around you. I felt like a baby animal, barely straying from its mother. I stuck to the grocery store (which had strange food and trying to communicate looking for an item (ex: mac n cheese) was impossible) and the main street parallelel to the one our apratments are on. I tried gyrros for the first time and life was pretty darn good.

The second week is realizing you are stuck here. It feels longer than a vacation your body tells you, which means maybe in a few days you should be going home. Everything is a little more irritating like: okay, maybe turning on the heater for the shower isn't really that fun and I'm getting tired of eating Greek food and EVERYTHING being in Greek. At the same time, things start to seem more familiar. Neighborhs seem friendlier, strangers seem more willing to help and understanding, and cultural norms are starting to be realized. You walk farther down the street, maybe take the bus for the first time. Jet lag is starting to wear off. Crossing the street is a little less exhilirating and everything seems a little less intimidating. And you start to become more confident in your surroundings.

The third week is definitely the worst. Okay, now it is really just plain annoying that we have to wait for the stupid water to heat up! And I am seriously wanting some ranch dressing and mac n cheese. You miss home-your parents, siblings, friends, cuddling with your pets, everyone. You miss your car, the way people drive-like how dumb is it they drive on the other side of the road (this is what you say to yourself during week 3). You miss the sense of security of knowing the cultural norms, understanding what people are saying to you (as opposed to gibberish), all the signs and labels are in Greek-which looks just like mathmatical symbols not letters! I hate that our stove has 2 tiny burners and no oven, that we have to THROW  OUT POOP! (still kinda gross actually), that personal bubbles are smaller and no one moves out of the way, our washing machine fits about 3 towels and we have no dryer. It is that horrible akward time when crossing the road is still life-threatning, you stand on the side like an idiot because they drive like maniacs! There are no American flags anywhere and you ar the minority. You feel a little trapped and therefore a bit dissinterested in cultural things. Missing home and the US in general makes you seek out things that remind you of what you left behind-eat at McDonalds (b/c gyrros now taste...lame), make homemade mac n cheese as best as possible (since it doesnt exist here), go to Starbucks and are so comforted by Gloria Jeans (just like at the mall and they even had my favotire drink!) and watch tv shows watched at home (b/c I know my friends and parents will be watching them too) and movies (since they are in English). I also was sick, I had that weird fever/headache/naseau that came on every night about 6pm. Of course, during this stage, you have to keep pushing yourself anyway. You go to museums, take the stupid buses that are always late or just don't show up, keep going to the Greek-speaking places and you push through to stage four.

By stage four, you are past all sensations of the previous three. You have accepted your circumstances and are starting to genuinely enjoy them. Some things are still anoying, but you learn to accept them and that there is nothing you can do about it. You know your way  around, social gestures and phrases are understood, communicating bilingually is now understandable, streets and businesses are recognized. And by now you are use to the systems- the buses, the lack of lines, the insane driving (now we just walk across the street like it's no big deal), and the creppy-looking but totally harmless Cypriot men. Also the unit systems: instead of saying "50 euro cents" or "3 euro dollars" you say "50 cents" "3 euros" and you don't akwardly count your money and change when paying. The bus arrives at 14:30, which I know is 2:30pm;a litre is about 1/4 the size of a gallon; and when it is 20*C out it is about 68*F. Cypriots seem friendly and comfortable and I feel completely safe and secure. I can jump on the bus, knowing I'm on the right bus (there are about 50 that go all over the city and country), and knowing exactly where I am going (for example: "the GNC-like place down that street in old city, you know across from that ice cream place with all the flavors"). Life is good, I am living in Cyprus and am so happy! I can give someone directions to that "great Meze place at the end of the street, then go left, and it's on the left side of the street." From that point on, everything is adjusted to, you feel safe walking to Zorbas at 2am for some halva and houlomi-filled filo dough pockets, and this is currently home-base.

Jet Lag. Jet lag is obnoxious. There is a 7 hour time change, so when it is dinnertime at home (like 7pm) it's 2am here. When it's time to be sleeping here (like midnight), it is 4pm at home. Or when your body is telling your it's bedtime (1am hometime), it is time to get up-rise and shine it's 8am here. Everything feels opposite to what your body is telling you. It throws off everything of course, eating times obviously changes, bedtime, etc. And it takes a solid 2 weeks to fully adjust, but once adjusted it feels normal to wake up everday at 1am NH time.