How do you feel when you find out that some people are indifferent about whether you are coming back? Or, for that matter, didn’t realize you were even gone until 8 months after you’d left?

May I gently recommend that your first few days home do not include (1) a meal at Perkins or similar or (2) a prolonged trip to Costco/Albertsons/BuyMore? I almost went into some kind of shock when we were greeted like long-lost friends by the waitress at Perkins, even though we’d never been there before. I mean, why the hell was she smiling so much? What was with all the small talk and the friendly chatter? I knew the restaurant script in Prague and had totally forgotten it here.

Even now I still feel sometimes like I am “faking” the way I fit into my home culture. I know exactly how I’m *supposed* to act, but it doesn’t feel real somehow.

You can never go home again, not in the same way. It’s not bad, it’s just different.

Oh boy do I empathise/sympathise. I know exactly how you feel. I keep telling myself, it will be great when I get there. And we’ve learnt a lot, haven’t we? Haven’t we?

Um. Welcome home?