As I walk across College Green toward Court Street for lunch break, I cannot help but notice the people who spend their own lunch breaks loafing on the ground. There is a rustling sound coming from above me, drawing my attention to the squirrels playing in the trees. This is my image of Athens.
To be perfectly honest, this quarter has not been sunny and happy so much as it has been cloudy and rainy. I have seen more people huddling under the shelter of the library's entrances than I have seen lazing on the green. I guess this is also my image of Athens, though. During my last four years on campus, I have always felt at home. That is, until now. I recently returned to America after studying abroad in Japan for six months, and everything that used to seem normal now feels alien. Even if I disregard changes in my relationships with friends and professors, Athens and my time spent here since my return have felt surreal.
I came back to Athens a few weeks ago, just in time to see my friends struggle through exam week and finish off the horror that is Winter Quarter. I spent that time readjusting to Americans' behaviors and my own now that I am amongst them again. Of course, there are the superficial differences between Americans and the Japanese: Americans seem more likely to wear a hooded sweatshirt than to carry an umbrella in the rain; the Japanese spend more time on make-up and accessories in order to achieve their idea of style; Americans are willing to stop and sit on the ground anywhere around campus; the Japanese will not eat while walking.
Of course, these examples are just the tip of the iceberg. They seem so minute in theory, but after living half a year surrounded by one culture, I cannot help feeling uncomfortable in my own culture. I used to pride myself on having a lazy sense of fashion. Now I cannot fathom why so many Americans wear sweats to class. I used to prefer getting my clothes wet to the inconvenience of holding an umbrella. Now I cannot even look at others in the rain without wondering where their umbrellas are.
From an academic standpoint, I find my reverse culture shock and readjustment fascinating. While all the above differences are between America and Japan, the change that concerns me most deals with Athens specifically. When I was in Japan, I always felt like a tourist. At first, I resented this feeling. I went to Japan so I could study the language and participate in the culture firsthand. I did not want to feel like I could not be a part of the culture, but that was inevitable given how different from everyone else I looked. In time, though, I developed an emotional dependence on how being treating like a tourist made me feel. As an average American who thinks she has no special defining features, it was exciting to be able to go anywhere in Japan and know that everyone around me was interested in me.
When I returned to my hometown, of course I received some of that same treatment from family members who wanted to know about my study abroad experience. Yet, in the end, family is still just family, and we settled into our familiar roles easily. My return to Athens has not been quite the same. Perhaps it is because I have a larger social circle in Athens or because I did not keep in touch with my friends here as well as I did with my family, but even after three weeks in town, I am still not done catching up with all of my friends. People are still inviting me to parties and treating my existence as a novelty. I cannot even express how bizarre it feels to walk around knowing that I used to consider this particular town as something of my own, though it now feels foreign to me. I have become a tourist in my own Athens. The worst of it is that I am letting myself be comfortable with this situation.
I know I have not graduated yet, but I imagine that this must be what it is like to return to Athens as an alumna. Right now, I cannot say I like the feeling. I guess all I can do is see how I feel after I get further into the quarter.
17 Archives
Jennifer Musser
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