It’s been about a month and a half since I’ve been back, with a week spent volunteering at Camp Casey, a nonprofit camp for children with disabilities. While the initial fatigue of returning has subsided, what I hadn’t anticipated was the difficulty of readjusting to American culture, especially here in the Pacific Northwest. Accoring to Marquette University, reverse culture shock is is an emotional and psychological stage of re-adjustment, similar to ones initial adjustment to living abroad.
One of the biggest challenges I’ve been experiencing has been the drastic time zone difference. This shift has impacted my social life in a few unexpected ways:
Time Zone Disconnect: The people I used to socialize with abroad, and even my friends in the States, now live in a completely different rhythm. While abroad, I could keep up with both groups—friends in the U.S. were waking up just as my day was winding down, giving me a full window to socialize across time zones. But now, it’s harder to connect. My friends here have adjusted to my absence, and their lives have moved forward. And now, by the time I wake up, many of my European friends are settling down, leaving a smaller window to catch up and stay involved in their lives.
Shifting Social Dynamics: Since I’ve been gone, my friends in the U.S. have either moved away, and/or progressed in their careers, relationships, and social circles. I’m stepping back into a entirely new dynamic than the one I left behind. It feels like reintegrating into this new rhythm requires more effort, and I know the same thing will happen on the other side once I return to my travels; meaning it will continue to be an ongoing cycle of adjustment.
Challenges of Meeting New People: It hasn’t been as easy to meet new people here as it was abroad. I say that very loosely as each culture differed significantly in the ways people approached. With Scotland and Dublin being my last locations, I had gotten used to their level of freedom and openness. In the Pacific Northwest, people seem superficially friendly, but meaningful connections are often made through existing social circles. I often notice that people are more reluctant to foster new connections, or if so it takes a significant amount of time and effort.
Superficial Communication: Another challenge is how people communicate. Conversations often feel superficial, and I find it difficult to engage in meaningful small talk without necessarily hearing about the other person‘s response. This isn’t entirely new—I experienced similar dynamics in places like Germany, where people were colder and more reserved, or in Italy and Spain. But the struggle feels more pronounced now. I’m not sure why it’s harder to find the energy to create new connections as it did when I was abroad.
Perceived Safety: Strangely, I feel both more and less safe since returning. There’s a sense of comfort being back with familiar people and places, but at the same time, the unpredictable nature of safety in the U.S. is unnerving. In many ways, I felt more secure abroad, even though certain environments felt riskier. Gun laws and public safety issues here heighten my awareness, but it’s a different kind of vulnerability. While I feel physically safer in some ways, the emotional and psychological safety I experienced abroad feels absent.
Lack of Mental Health Support: Another surprising shift is the realization of how little mental health support exists here compared to abroad. During my travels, I encountered a greater focus on mental well-being in countries like the Netherlands, Germany, Spain, and Scotland. Returning to the U.S., I feel less comfortable around others, and the lack of support systems for individuals facing mental health challenges is stark. Having done this type of work with the unhoused community since I was 14 or 15, I used to feel a sense of comfort regardless of the situation. Now, I find myself more aware of the dangers and less equipped to manage them.
Lack of Affordable Healthcare and Food: The type of travel insurance I recieved meant I had to pay intially, showing the significant cost disparaity in the afforabilotoy of treatmement. Checkups in the netherlands were 60, while x rays in germany 40-60. Compared to the bills I have recieved in the states for no more than a twenty minute visit constitiuted above $200.
Transportation Woes: One of the most tangible differences is transportation. While traveling, I could rely on accessible and dependable public transportation, often available late into the night. Being back without a car is a stark contrast. Getting around means relying on Uber, which costs as much as a meal, or walking, which isn’t always the safest option. It’s a far cry from the efficient commutes I experienced while abroad.
A few weeks ago, my friend, who had been au pairing in Dublin for the last few months, took me to a pinball bar called Token, a few days before it closed. While we were catching up, we ran into people she knew from the arcade. Even with my egregious attempts at pinball, they somehow still invited us to the next tournament the following week despite my reservations. After the tournament, I began chatting with a now-good friend at a nearby table. She explained that she’s originally from the States but moved here 10 months ago, struggling with employment while looking for a job in architecture.The next week, we sat down for coffee, and she shared more about her situation and the connections she’s made in Dublin. I was interested in her perspective as a neutral outsider regarding her acclimation here, the culture, and the difficulties she faces due to Dublin’s high prices.
“From what I’ve kind of seen here in Ireland, housing is always a big problem. And it’s been going on ever since the country started building up.. It’s become more and more lucrative for businesses,” she said. She mentioned that a lot of investment companies come in, buy property, and rent it out at prices that are not accessible to locals or newcomers. “It’s more than €2,500 to €3,000, maybe even €4,000, depending on where the property is located.” This, of course, depends on how nice the property is and how much the investment company wants to sell it for.
“It took me a month to find a place to stay, and I got lucky. I’m with a friend, and she’s able to give me an affordable price for a room. A box room,” she clarified. “Not even, there’s barely any space. I went to so many different areas that were in my price range, but they were super sketchy. And I did not feel safe in any of those places.”I asked her if there were any initiatives in place to help reduce the disparity in housing costs. She said they are working to create more affordable housing, but it’s mainly for people who are really struggling to make ends meet, particularly in very poor areas. The middle class still has to rent and ends up spending half of their income or more on rent, leaving people feeling as if there aren’t many options.“Even to get a mortgage, they make you jump through these crazy hoops just to be able to get a loan, coming up with any reason to deny you. When paying the mortgage can be out of people’s budgets in general,” she said, bringing up an example of a couple trying to acquire a home but ending up needing to rent due to the high prices.
Last week, I also made a keen observation: the majority of the surrounding buildings were vacant. As I waited for my friend to arrive at Token, I decided to take a walk around but realized there wasn’t much to see. Moving away from Temple Bar, Dublin’s most expensive and tourist-ridden area, I noticed street after street with only a few businesses. “There’s a lot of planning permits, so… unless they are given permission to take down those buildings and build up again, they can’t do anything with it,” she explained lightly, highlighting the connection between bureaucracy and corruption that makes it nearly impossible to demolish, repurpose, or renovate those buildings. “It’s always a question of money and who wants it and why.”
“I know it sounds pretty bleak,” she exclaimed, “but here, it’s all about networking, getting to know people, making good friends, and talking to them about your situation. That’s how people get by—through friends and family. That’s why tight-knit communities are really important.” I asked how people who are not from Dublin might manage if they’re having trouble finding a network. She said, “It’s all about who you know. If I hear about something, I’ll ask if you want to come with me. You look for events in your price range on Eventbrite or Ticketmaster or check things on billboards. It’s hard to find things to do here unless you know people who know about things. I found out about some great venues like Busy Street and the Sugar Club for comedy or concerts. During the summertime, there’s a lot going on. People love music here; it’s part of the culture in Ireland, so that’s a great way to meet people. Getting a pint, walking around, talking to people—you make some really good friends. That’s why people make friends here through other people; they don’t often just talk to random people unless they’re really drunk.” She says, but that makes a good starting point.
The only thing I have in this world is my cat. I promised that I would take him to see the big one so he could say ‘good day‘ to the big one.“
Content Statement: This article contains themes of suicide
Sidenote: I wish I would have been able to take his portrait, but given he was Muslim, it would not be possible. Many Muslims hold a belief that images, particularly photographs, can capture and potentially take a part of their soul. This belief stems from interpretations of Islamic teachings regarding the sanctity and integrity of the human soul. According to some interpretations, capturing an image through photography or other means can interfere with the soul's purity or invite spiritual harm. As a result, some individuals may avoid being photographed or may express discomfort with images being taken of them. That being said, even if his face does wear away without resemblance,I will never forget this conversation, and the trust he felt with me.
While working at the Gast House, I encountered a fellow guest who was elated to share his story with me. To my surprise, he originated from Canada and had been stranded here for the past 3 to 5 years due to a lost passport, rendering him unable to prove his identity. Over the course of nearly two hours, we delved into his life journey, spanning from childhood through divorce, detailing his transition from a six-figure-earning doctor to living on the streets, and his current plans to stabilize his future.
At the onset of our interview, there was a bit of a struggle to find our footing. He informed me he would join me outside after finishing his meal. When he attempted to fetch a couple of chairs from the main dining room for our interview, he encountered resistance from the staff, who rebuked him despite his explanation that he was assisting me with a project. He recounted, “‘They screamed at me, ‘Bring the chair in now’. I said, ‘**** told me to bring it here. We’re doing something.’ I said bring it in the stool.” Eventually, we managed to locate a quiet spot, albeit it was raining. Due to the lack of coverage and space, we found ourselves taking shelter beside a garbage can. I felt deeply sympathetic towards him as he shared his story, realizing we were left with no better options.
“Does smoking bother you?” he inquired.
I responded, “No, it’s quite common in Europe.”
“Okay then, shall we begin? You better hold on tight to the chair,” he remarked, taking a deep breath.
Early Life He began by recounting his familial background, stating, “My grandfather was a judge. My father was a lawyer. My mother was a nurse.I went all three routes. I studied nursing, first degree. My second degree, I took History and Modern Language. And my third is I’m a teacher for English, French and Spanish,” he explains, followed by a light-hearted remark, “Hi…Twelve years I sat at the university,” he jokes.”My mother is English, my father is French, So they gave [me] two languages,” he adds. “My dad took a job in Venezuela when I was in the 6th class, and I went to school in Venezuela from the 6th till the 11th class,” he elaborates, “Spanish was my third language.I was given six weeks’ instruction before I started school. And with my father, it doesn’t matter about the language. You come home with straight A’s or else.”
During our conversation, we briefly discussed the experience of having older parents. He shared an intriguing observation, stating, “They say either when the parents are well, the mother is too old, you get children with Down syndrome or extremely bright children with very high foreheads“, recounting he had one as well. “I can recite passages from literature that I read in the 9th class. Spanish, French, English. What language would you like it in?“He mentioned how people often mistake him for a native speaker in any language he speaks due to his ability to match the dialect and accent purely through listening. “The funny part was here, during the Coronavirus, we were across the street in a tent in this park, and I had five people lined up. I spoke to one in English, one in French, one in Spanish, one in Portuguese, one in Arabic, and then I spoke German at the end…Masri, shami, and oncinha. Those are the three Arabic languages that I’m learning now. I’m leaving here to go to Egypt. I promised my cat that I would take him to see the big one so he could say good day to the big one.“
He also recounted his adventures, including getting banned from Las Vegas. “There are little casinos on every corner here. And I went in and played. I doubled my paycheck at least every month, doubled my bing bing bing bing. I just kept winning.”
Early Career
At the beginning of the interview, he explained the reasonings for his long educational journey. “I became a nurse. It was actually supposed to be in my premed studies. In my anatomy and physiology professor’s lecture I corrected in the university with 250 doctors and nursing students. It was dead silent. You could hear a needle drop. Then when I finished my degree, I thought, I really don’t want to be a doctor. I’d rather work as a nurse. And then there were so many opportunities available. Then I really didn’t need to finish my degree to become a doctor. I could work as a nurse and make very good money. And I did..Then I applied for a job and I was told, ‘you can’t have it because you’re a male. They want a female.‘ So I [flew] back to Venezuela in ‘86 or ‘87…I went and decided I’m not going back to Canada, and I traveled all over South America. Then I landed in Malaysia, Hong Kong, and then I met my ex wife, and she was East German, and we got married. We were supposed to go back to Canada, [but] a marriage involves two people, not three. So I just said, no, you can stay here. We were divorced“.
I clarified it was because she wanted to involve another person, to his reply “No, she already did. I found out from my divorce attorney that I was husband number eight. Oh, yeah. Not nice. I thought I was husband number three. That was bad enough. But when he said, ‚no, you’re husband number eight‘. I looked at him and I said, Are you serious? He said yes. He said she’s a swindle.“ I asked if they were all legal marriages. „Oh, yeah. She was married several times in the former East Germany. So we wound up divorced. We landed in Hala Andersala. I worked in Bautzen. I taught English teachers for the German school system. So then once we were divorced, I left because the market fell apart.“
Marriage Life
„We came to Germany. We had a second honeymoon and we went to Poland. I was on the boat trip from Amsterdam to a cheese farm. I had four job opportunities from people that were on the boat. Language companies send people on the weekends, see who’s here, who we can use. They just came. “What do you do?I’m a language teacher. I want you to work for me‘. Four jobs in 15 minutes. No paperwork[needed], nothing. My wife wouldn’t go. She needed a job, an occupation. She didn’t have one.She never bothered to learn anything…she had no education. I told her in Portuguese, you have exactly two years. The 26 October, I’m filing for a divorce.“
“And then she didn’t do anything?“
“Well, yeah, she did do something. She found husband number nine and was having an affair with him while I was running all over the countryside teaching. And the neighbors tried to tell me, but I couldn’t speak German at the time. She didn’t want to learn[a skill], because she was taking the money from our joint account. And she wasn’t paying anything.“ As soon as they got divorced and he wasnt providing for her, she got a job in a nursing home the next day. I‘m not a widow, sadly”.
Life After Divorce
After his job teaching languages went downhill because of the crash, he returned to nursing. “That worked out until I was the head of ICU. That was my area of expertise, and emergency,” he recalls. “I went in, it was Friday, the 13th of July 2012. I went into work and I went, ‘no, I don’t think I’m working today, but I had to go in‘“. At the end of his last day before he was shifted over, “I just went down on the ground. They called me from the ward and asked, ‘What are you doing laying on the floor?'”
“Get a doctor, I’m having a heart attack“.
“What?“ the nurses said, stunned.
“Yes. And that’s why I’m on the floor or on the ground. Get a doctor“.
“Ten minutes later I was on the operating table and they did a three way[ triple bypass]. I still have leg problems all the way down. And then they said, ‘we have bad news for you. You can’t work as a nurse anymore because no hospitals will take you because of heart issues. The risk from patient to nurse transmission of sickness is too high so you need to change jobs‘. I worked in what they call ginecologic legacy. I was a nurse on wheels. I went from house to house and dealt with patients. I didn’t have to lift the patients, did meds and injections. The doctor said, ‘okay, I’ll sign it. But he said you can’t do this for long. You will get caught, you will be fined.‘ But he said ‘I’ll write it‘ And I decided to re-educate myself to be a physiotherapist. That’s how I wound up here in Dortmund. While I was on the bus, my money, passport, everything was stolen. €5,000 was gone. And no, you can’t have a job because you don’t have a passport. But I did have a letter that said I have landed immigrant status. I can do anything I want except vote and bold public office. So I used it and I applied for my unemployment insurance. I should have gotten eight months. But they found out that the passport was gone. So they technically owe me for half a year that they will never pay“.
Family Relationships
“The only thing I have in this world is my cat. My entire family is dead. Brothers,sisters, aunts, uncles, parents, down to my great nephew committed suicide two years ago. There was a family problem. His mother is a half sister, or his grandmother was my half sister. The family didn’t work well. That was one of the reasons why I left. And I said, ‘I’m out of here‘.And I went back to South America. Then when I came back to Canada, everything was fine.
“I knew him as a little boy,” he recounts, describing his nephew. He continues, detailing how he believed it was good he passed, how he had saved him as a baby, but also expressing his sense of unfairness, feeling that his passing took away his life, his only living relative. He further adds, “And his mother also committed suicide. When my mother passed away, they closed the casket.” He shares that she had experienced abuse in the family from a young age, which he believes could explain the psychological problems within the family.
Process of Reattaining his Documents
“Okay, you don’t have to answer, but answer yourself. What was your mother’s occupation when you were born? Do you know this? Where did she live? Do you know the address?Who was the doctor that brought you into the world? How much did you weigh when you were born? And now find a Canadian doctor that knows you for three years and can write down, yes, this is who it is. I haven’t been in Canada for over 35 years. Nobody is in existence. My family doctor that I had died a year ago, January the third, and his son took over his practice. He retired when I was 18“. I asked if another doctor could access his records. ‘No‘ they said, ‘the doctor has to sign that they know you personally‘. And there was no doctor that knew me because I’ve been out of the country for 35 years.“
Thankfully he was able to reconnect with his girlfriend on facebook after many years. “I said, ‘Hi, how are you?‘ I used my new name.“
“Who are you and what do you want?“ she replied.
“I said,‘ Anything I want from you, you would give me.‘“
“This conversation over. You can go“.
“Sweetie, it’s me.“ I said.
“What?“
“Yeah, I took my ex wife’s name when we got married“.
“when are you coming home?”she said.
“I was 13 and spent the night at her house in bed with her, and her mother was okay with it. We’re more like brother and sister than girlfriend and boyfriend. The families are mixed like this, so it wasn’t a problem. Nothing went on anyway. I [had] hurt my foot rolling tires. We had to change the tires and put them in a different place in the ghost garage. And I just said ‘no, I’m not doing this. We can just roll the tires like this and let them roll in’.Well, it rolled into and it crunched my toenails along. I had to go to the doctor“. It was only after this one instance from years prior, he was able to receive his documents.
Reattaining His Documents
“If you can get legal guardianship, you can do anything. You can get the information in Canada. Hopefully you can get my passport quicker. She contacted the government in Canada. They said he’s already applied. He has to wait. ‘There’s nothing we can do’ they said. ‘He has to wait‘. She called upstairs and said ‘he’s telling you the truth‘. And then it was completely treated differently.“
So the previous doctor that had fixed his toe signed for the paper. “ I had all of the new paperwork, and then it was gone again. Everything was stolen from the hygiene center. I had my passport. I was ready to go. It was stolen again. It took five years to get it.And then I had it six months and its gone again. I’m sitting like this. I’m not allowed to work because I don’t have papers. I’m not allowed to rent an apartment. I’m not allowed to do anything.“ I asked him how he’s getting by now as he;s waiting forhis documents. “putting money in another account. My hands are tied. I don’t have a choice. I need to live. I’m in a cellar, in a tent because they wouldn’t allow me to register in my apartment. So I had to leave. I actually had a life until one day I just went splat on the street. You can see from my family background, there was no problem with money. There was money for everything and anything. Yeah, try going from everything to nothing“. By now he has received his new documents, passport and and is on his way out of Germany.
“I’m here until the papers come. Then I want to go to Holland(for thelanguage teaching job) and then from Holland to Egypt. Africa is my last continent, I lived on every continent up to and I wanted to teach in Morocco.“
Currently, being in Scotland is probably the best part of my trip. Although I’m beginning to see the effects of the stress that the trip is taking on me. For once, at least for a little bit, I feel like I can finally relax. The community is there, the safety, at least a general sense, the art, the music, the trust. For the first time since starting uni, I can actually picture a life here, a future outside of academia and anything familiar, and I’m excited for it.
The main issue I have has been getting in touch with organizations, but in terms of the one that I’m in touch with, the Lodging House Mission, I feel fully accepted, and everyone is happy to have me there. The ones that were reluctant to talk with me are now fully telling me their stories. I get handshakes and smiles whenever I enter from staff and from the people, wishing you a new year and wondering when I’ll be back. I learned what the organization provides through different surrounding churches, and how much Scotland truly protects the identity of the people struggling with these issues.
And in some ways, it’s a detriment to my project because I can’t capture the portraits, and I might even forget their faces, which I would not want to do. It’s also through this, I understand how important it is for some people to feel that space for themselves; like I mentioned in my project statement. I won’t always be able to get exactly what I want for my project, and that’s also part of the experience. If this was set up as a normal grant, I might have a lot more luck with getting in contact with organizations to different parties, they would definitely have possible further connections, but I truly understand the difficulty of showing someone the value of your project, even more difficult when there is little to offer them at least in the short term.
Maybe if I had help this would be significantly easier, but I’m using the most with what I have with the freedom of what I have, and that’s all I can really do. I have noticed that I’ve developed gray hairs in the last couple of months. I dye my hair periodically so it’s not like the roots don’t show, enough for me to notice, but finally starting to see how much stress affects me with how anxious I’ve been, and even continuing, as I’m in better spaces.
Even if it’s just the case, coming back might be very difficult, I’m really feeling confident in my decisions and myself happy to be in the space where I am. I always thought when people said that troubles showed you who you are, it was really cheesy, but at least solo travel for me has been life-changing.
In my latest mixed media piece, I delve into the realm of digital art to convey the sensations of uneasiness and anxiety. Utilizing a variety of photo editing techniques, including textures and gradients, I create a visual representation of fragmented connections and internal turmoil that follows when navigating unexpected Through the manipulation of textures and gradients, I evoke a sense of disquiet and instability, reflecting the inner turmoil experienced during moments of anxiety.
“Bed Rest“
“Bed Rest” reflects the collision between internal fragility and external vitality. It is about the tension between wanting to fully experience life and being forced into retreat. The artwork captures both physical struggle and emotional isolation while acknowledging the strange beauty found in moments of stillness and recovery.
“Envy”
This piece, taking over five months to complete, stands as one of my most detailed and challenging works. It explores themes of unwanted attention, the fragility of beauty, and the envy it provokes in others. The intricate detailing reflects the emotional weight of navigating these experiences, with each line and texture symbolizing the complexity of external judgment and internal struggle.
The words within the artwork represent the complaints and dismissals I encountered when trying to express the emotional toll of constantly being pursued. These phrases capture the frustration of feeling misunderstood, of trying to explain the discomfort that comes with being objectified or envied. At the heart of the piece is a clock, symbolizing the fleeting nature of beauty—how it exists within a narrow window of time, constantly threatened by both external pressures and the inevitable passage of time itself. This piece not only speaks to the fragility of beauty but also to the emotional exhaustion of being reduced to it, highlighting the balance between admiration and invasion.
Content statement: This article contains themes of death
Volunteering at Salvation Army this week has been significantly easier than last time. There’s less frustration, and hostility from the customers. I’m able to pick up their orders much easier and work much faster. However, There was, and still is a significant communication barrier with people consistently getting frustrated or trying to take advantage of my lack of understanding. Last week, I was trying my best to understand the layout of the new kitchen, and the workflow observing hundreds of people per hour. I’m now feeling more confident in leading the team, even and helping guide them, but it is not without a heavy heart.
Another person in the community passed away a few day’s previous, Claudia. This is about a week after Lazlow. And such a short time frame, it led people at Salvation Army to theorize why, as there is with any death in the community. They are left to grieve for her, but also their own situation. It’s times of loss, where it leads people become grateful for what they have. But when you’re in a significantly vulnerable population with no housing, no food security and no shelter, it can seem impossible. And lead many to wonder ‘am I next?’. I can’t imagine carrying that amount of weight to consistently. I am already struggling with accommodation for this project and support, but know that there is a security blanket If need be.
In Salvation Army specifically, there is a lot of immigrants that come through. One of the workers, being his first time here, explained that he spoke with the guy said was his last day. He mentioned having no support, no job, etc. I could see the weight on the volunteer shoulders as he was explaining this to me. He asked me or even just was saying in general I don’t know how to help him and I said that sometimes it is just communicating and listening as I’m sharing something with you. I may not seem like much but it’s something all we can do and it is sometimes more than a lot of other people do . The people in the shift have never done this before, just being done by the stories they were hearing.Seeing how much it affected them after just a few hours, I started to see how it affects me doing this almost every day. It can be exhausting, draining working in these environments , let alone living in them. , I can’t even imagine how exhausting it is carrying this lack of stability around constantly, or having having that pit in your stomach when people leave, wondering if they will show up next time.
Because of the last couple days, I am feeling burned. Helping out at NOIZ for over nine hours, getting back at midnight, and then showing up at 8:30 AM To salvation. With the significant communication, barrier, and lack of willingness to share, maybe because I’m outside and also female, it also leads to less opportunities to hear from them.
Content statement: This article contains themes of death
I want to help serve, I want to chat, but it seems extremely difficult to communicate. Even so it feels today should not be the day. I feel intrusive, almost as if should not be there. Today is a celebration of Laslo, a long-standing member, and a cherishished voice in the homeless community.
I am now sitting where they make funeral preparations for Laszlo. To see the care, and the attention to detail, there is not a dry in the house. The pain in their eyes is prominent, the strength of their community, the love for the people that go there. I can understand a bit, but there is such a disconnect. I want to understand the intricacies. There is laughter and moments of reminiscing, breaking up the tension, but as a silence heads, the weight is immense. It is moments like this in my project. That will be the hardest, because I as an outsider language, and in general reach a barrier that I don’t know if I can get past. I am trying, but it is like a transcript. I don’t have the technology to read, the ink battle. I just go here a place of understanding, but in these older spaces, and long-term care, it seems I would have an issue they don’t speak English, really, only Dutch, I can use Google Translate and we can converse that way, but even then, there will be things that will be lost.
when you were not an native speaker, I can understand how different it can be to immigrate and be a part of the culture. Especially when you cannot communicate, nor understand. You just sit there, waiting for it to click, find some remnants in a language, that you know but it never does.
