I'm famous. People recognise me in the street. They nod knowingly, the downward, western nod that people do in Australia. People in south east asia tend to nod up. My dad remarked that it seemed more positive somehow... and there, first trap. You can't do that.
Referring back to then. The Time. Not The Trip, either. When you went to Bali and stayed in Legian, that was a Trip. Having a work visa isn't mandatory for separating a Trip from a Time, but having a work visa does separate a Time from a Trip.
Your Contiki Tour was a trip. So we see there are two rules to be acknowledged here. First, you're not allowed to refer to my Time living overseas as "your trip"[see: how was your trip]. And I'm not allowed to refer back to my time in Malaysia more than once a week.
It's not that people don't care about what I think. At least, that's what I tell myself. It's more that people don't care about the past. It's like your girlfriend referring to her old boyfriend, rather than you. You don't want to be compared to that. You don't even want that in the same room as you, because it's old. Dead. The Past. If you're still talking about him, then maybe you should still be with him. And that is what you think, although you're usually wrong. People talk about the past sometimes; it doesn't mean they want to relive it.
I'm happy enough in Australia for now. It is, in fact, where I want to be.
This is a new chapter, and I've decided to call it Weltschmerz which is a word I found on one of those click-bait websites that everyone says they hate. It's a German word, essentially meaning mental pain experienced by someone who sees shortcomings in the physical reality of their world. A kind of anguish that your life is not how you wish it to be. First world problems, perhaps.
It sums up a lot of feelings I have regarding reintegration.
Oh, my, that meal is expensive.
That's right, I forgot most pub kitchens close at 8:00PM.
No, officer, I don't suppose me speaking english and telling you how much I like this country would cause you to give me a warning instead of a fine.
We, the returned, forget to mention that first world problems are coupled to first world benefits.
The supermarket doesn't smell like rotting fish anymore.
The policeman is unlikely to pull you over unless you're actually breaking the law.
I haven't had intestinal worms in months.
And most of all, I'm surrounded by family, and have access to a world-class free healthcare system, where the doctors don't try and con you into unnecessary surgery.
Yeah, that happened. More than once.
I really like being home, just as your girlfriend really likes being with you. Probably.
But, I'm still processing the change. I'm trying to make the last three years of my life interlock into the next whatever-length-of-time of my life in Geelong. Using the knowledge I've gained from that time is gratifying. It's also annoying. I get that. And honestly, I'm sorry. But I'm not referring to a trip. I'm talking about the single most life altering period of time that I have experienced so far. It really is a big deal.
So, with that somewhat narcissistic justification out of the way, I offer you a partial apology.
When I refer back to my time overseas, please forgive me if it seems that I am not happy to be here, in this country, with you. Please forgive me if I whine about the price of a cab ride. I'm doing my best not to. Sometimes I slip.
And when I use my experiences as a vehicle to challenge your opinion, it's not because I think I'm better than you, or that you're less educated than me. I did something and it irreversibly changed how I view the world. It's difficult to keep quiet about it.
