'Mamitis', 'Papitis', 'Familiatis', 'Hogaritis', Añoranza, Morriña

Mamitis = the condition of missing the Mamacita

Papitis = the condition of missing the Papacito

Familiatis = the condition of missing the familia

Hogaritis = the condition of missing home

Añoranza = yearning homesickness

Morriña = nostalgic homesickness

Notes on culture shock:

Honeymoon - Negotiation - Adjustment - Mastery Phases

Honeymoon: the honeymoon phase of culture shock involves romanticizing everything new, exciting, different, foreign about the new place.

Negotiation: cultural differences create anxiety, leading to frustration at aspects of the foreign culture.

Adjustment: one becomes accustomed to the frustrating aspects of the new culture, develops routines, develops strategies for dealing with challenges, the foreign culture feels normal

Mastery: biculturalism - foreigner can participate fully in the new culture, is comfortable and fully functioning.

While I decided to begin this post with culture shock, I should admit that really, it isn't culture shock in these terms that I am currently experiencing, so much as the roller coaster that is traveling and living abroad. Why does it happen so quickly? Yesterday I was completely content, this morning I just want to see my family, hug them! I want to walk down the street on a fall day, with crunchy dead leaves crackling under foot, and a fresh, crisp breeze whizzing around my face, playing marionettes with my hair. I want to sit in a cafe working on my papers all day long, sipping hazelnut cappuccinos with cinnamon dusting and watch the sunlight change from white to yellow to gold to orange to red to gone. I want to ride my bike. To wear my puffy vest. To smell New England autumn. Good God, that smell is so delicious, and so unique to home. I want to plan a trip to Plum Island, or to the mountains, and hike. I want to wear nothing but snap button flannel shirts bought in the adolescent boys' section at Kohl's.

Last year I remember there was one perfect day where all of the trees had changed, but few had lost their leaves. There were leaves on the ground, though, and as I walked back home after school, I picked leaf after leaf up. The wonder of nature. The patterns of autumn leaves. What awe and beauty. The sun was distant but comforting over the Charles, and birds were resting on the current. People were driving home from work, were greeting their neighbors, were parking, unlocking their doors, and arriving home. The wind smelled fresh, chilly, but with a hint of the smell of sunshine. I was smiling. I'm not sure I knew then that I was smiling, but looking back on that afternoon, I am certain that I was. I think I was smiling most afternoons in Waltham. What a lovely realization. But bittersweet, because I don't see, smell, feel, hear those things here.

Here there are different sounds, sights, smells, tastes, and that is alright. That is how it should be. And there are some that are lovely. The mountains surrounding Ibagué are magical, and when the clouds roll in, it is a spectacular sight, Andes and sky in one plane. The outskirts of the city smell like fire, forest, and fresh air. Foods are mostly tastey, despite the heavy meat, and I especially am in love with the tastes of arepas and tamales. Coffee is dark, sweet, and strong. Every morning I wake up to the sound of birds singing (among other, not so pleasant sounds....)

So, here is to home, that sweet comfort.