The Shock of Return

We're back in the US after nearly 10 years living abroad in Peru and Kenya.

One of the first questions many people have asked me has been how we've been coping with reverse culture shock. This is a common phenomenon, apparently, experienced by seasoned expats who struggle with the disappointments and new adjustments associated with returning to their country of origin. The BBC recently ran a story about it, and there is a highly touted book called, The Art of Coming Home, by an “expert in repatriation” called Craig Storti. He explains that coming home is often more difficult than going abroad in the first place and can lead to issues such as depression, self-doubt, and feelings of marginalization.

Well, I'm happy to report that returning to DC has been anything but a culture shock. Sure, the politics are atrocious, but we've been aware of that from abroad and live it like the rest of the world.

We certainly miss the adventures of expat life, including the ability to dash off to exotic places for a weekend. We left behind wonderful friends. We had amazing work experiences. The whole thing was very mind opening and enriching.

Meanwhile, we have strong connections here in DC and roots that go back 20-plus years. It’s all very familiar, even if new neighborhoods have become trendy and electric scooters now share the road. We have a nice house, easy access to Rock Creek Park, and live in what may be the friendliest urban neighborhood on the planet.

Instead of culture shock, I’ve been contending with a different kind of stress – the shock of too much stuff.

In my twenties, I used to move around the world with two large suitcases and two boxes of books. But those days are long gone. Now our stuff fills entire shipping containers and large-sized storage units. It includes oriental rugs, fine art, and heavy furniture.

Because we’ve moved numerous times over the past decade, we’ve become better at re-assessing our worldly goods – what is worth transporting or not, what we can let go of, and how to dispose of it. In Peru and Kenya, it was easy to sell the extra things we didn’t want to move. We only had to take our “for sale” list as far as the office listserve or network of close friends to set off a massive barrage of phone calls and instant messages from eager buyers. Likewise, for the things we wanted to give away – used clothing, linens, housewares – we did not have to look further than the front door to find happy takers from amongst the housekeepers, guards, handyman, gardener, etc.

Getting the stuff out the door meant dealing with all kinds of characters. Most of them were very cheery and pleasant, though there were also the ones who showed up expecting someone else to do all the heavy lifting or supply the necessary bungee cords and such. And then there were moments where we felt we were on the set of The Three Stooges. Maneuvering couches was especially problematic for people not accustomed to doing so, leading to several broken door panes in our house in Nairobi and a close call involving the 6^th floor balcony of our Lima apartment.

And yet, when we returned to the US, we still found ourselves dealing with piles of unwanted stuff.

First, there were the castaways from generations of tenants, who left items tucked in the far reaches of our house; the tires under the front porch, the broken grill by the garbage bins, the funky shelves and jugs of used cooking oil in the storage room, the old clothes and bad art shoved in the backs of closets. For these, I hired a company called College Hunks Hauling Junk. True to their name, two hunky guys showed up. They were responsive and nice as could be, but the service was not inexpensive.

Then we recovered the items we’d left in storage during our years abroad. This was sobering, and it confirmed the suspicion we’d developed early on that anything left in storage is by definition something you can live without. What’s more, the things that had seemed worth keeping at one point in our lives no longer looked that way ten years later.

This is not to say that there aren’t fun aspects to re-discovering stored goods. If you’d asked me whether we’d ever owned a punch bowl that looks like an eggplant, I would have denied it – and been mistaken. The same goes for the pitcher that looks like a pear.

While I’ve decided to keep those two items, we ended up getting rid of the vast majority of the things we’d put in storage. These ranged from way too much Ikea furniture to more valuable pieces that just didn’t fit into our lives anymore.

However, rehoming a house full of stuff is not easy in this country. People are far less eager to take on your discards than they are in developing economies, where household goods are more expensive or unavailable.

I didn’t even try to sell things, but focused on how to give them away. First, I went through various neighborhood social media, which took care of some stuff and of the leftover moving boxes. Then I contacted numerous organizations that accept donated items. I learned the hard way that Good Will doesn’t really accept the stuff they say they will take on their website, and the Salvation Army only wants things in top condition. Some organizations wanted electronics but not furniture, others wanted only kids stuff or linens, and so forth. There were multiple ways to recycle books, which is nice. In the end, it took a combination of organizations, paying a guy with a moving van, and trips to the dump to handle the surplus stuff.

So, what are my take-homes from this experience?

First, the truth is that most stuff is just that, stuff. It’s not family. It’s rarely irreplaceable. It takes up space. At the end of the day, it’s not that hard to identify the things that are truly most valuable to you, either personally or financially – the stuff you would save in a fire. The rest is negotiable.

Second, life moves on and so do your tastes and needs. Don’t be afraid to let go of stuff, even family heirlooms that may make more sense being part of someone else’s family.

Third, enjoy your stuff, but don’t be defined by it. Be defined by how you live your life and welcome others into it. If that includes hosting parties using an eggplant shaped punchbowl, go for it. But if you forget you ever owned one, that’s okay, too.

Helpful resources:

CollegeHunks Hauling Junk are very responsive and make a point out of recycling as much of your junk as they can.

A WiderCircle accepts most items, which are redistributed to families in need, including those transitioning out of homelessness. They say they will send a truck for pickup, but I had no luck with that. On the other hand, they were happy to take things we brought to them.

Nextdoor.com is a great neighborhood by neighborhood resource where people list all sorts of local information, including things for sale/donation. I found takers for various items and all of our moving boxes.

Oh, and if you do experience reverse culture shock, check out this very useful page on the US State Department’s website.