New people, new place, new language, new culture — study abroad is full of “new.” Before studying abroad, you’re warned a lot about “culture shock,” what it will be like trying to quickly adjust to living in a new country. What you hear a lot less about is the other side: coming back to America.
I spent last fall in Siena, Italy. Not quite as well-known as its neighbor, Florence, Siena turned out to be the perfect Tuscan university town. I shared an apartment building with students from not only all over Italy, but also from Brazil and Spain. My largest class held nine people, and all of my classes included field trips to places like 14th century castles and famous Italian vineyards.
Outside of class, I wasted no time finding a favorite coffee shop (which doubled as a gelato shop, of course), and tried to speak as much broken Italian as I could.
I went abroad fully expecting some culture shock. I expected homesickness, not just for my parents, friends, and dog, but for America. Halfway through the program, after not feeling any of that and settling right in to the Sienese community, I began to think that I may have avoided the problem. And until I came back to America, I had.
It took about two days, but then “reverse culture shock” hit me. Hard. I expected to be thrilled to come home and talk about my study abroad. I knew I’d miss Italy, but I thought being back in America would be so great that it wouldn’t affect me.
At first, being back was great. I got to see my friends and to hear what I’d missed fall term. I could understand every sign and every conversation. Everything was familiar. But then I saw the problem: everything was familiar.
That’s the thing about coming home: not much has changed, other than you. Instead of being distressed because everything was new and different, I was thrown off because nothing was new. Instead of taking weekend trips to Rome or Venice, I was spending my weekends wandering as far as Safeway. I went from every day feeling like its own adventure, to feeling like I was repeating the same day over and over again.
I talked to some of my friends that I’d made while abroad and they felt the same. Even the professor that had gone abroad with us, Roxann Prazniak, said that she felt it.
“Coming back … I found it strangely depressing,” Prazniak said. “Everything felt one dimensional and flat.”
We were all more homesick for Europe than we’d been for America while abroad. What we had experienced abroad was a connection to the learning and the city that we just didn’t feel anymore in Eugene.
I forced myself to push Siena to the back of my mind, and fall back into my American routine. Not until after a term had gone by did I sit down and look through all the photos I had taken, bringing the European memories right back. I remembered who I had been in Europe; I was someone who was always on the lookout for new places, people and opportunities.
It was time, I decided, to merge my abroad identity with my University of Oregon identity. Spring term, when I felt stagnant, I would take the bus to a part of Eugene I hadn’t been to before and walk around. Over Memorial Day weekend I went to Portland and stayed in a cheap hostel, to experience Portland in a way that I never had before. I reached out to more people in my classes, and tried harder to be outgoing at work. None of this made Eugene turn into Siena, but it helped.
“Missing the ‘home’ that you left behind is a kind of reminder that you want to be more engaged in where you are,” Prazniak said. “You don’t want to always be chasing that other place.”
Study abroad is as amazing as everyone says it is. Go abroad, live life in a new way. But be more prepared than I was when you come home. Accept that Eugene is not as foreign as where you were, and that class in PLC 180 or Columbia 150 will never be as engaging as your favorite course abroad. Instead of moping, challenge yourself to make the best of it. Try to find something new on campus, a new club, a new job or even a new study spot. Keep your sense of exploration alive and bring your abroad-self back home.