Returning Home - how to reconnect

genghisfawn · 09-25-2012, 08:11 PM

Good luck to you!

I lived in Saskatchewan all of my life before moving to the UK for a few years in my early 20s. I've been back just over two years and my re-entry was hard, despite coming back to a place I thought I knew well.

Even walking through downtown Saskatoon blew my mind as I stood in front of a new, purpose-built office suite for a mining conglomerate, asking my best friend, "What was here before?" Ugly new boxes representing houses have sprung up all over. Road construction still prevails (that much never changes.)

I have a tape of when I returned home, and my mother made me read the first few pages of Anne of Green Gables in my "new accent". Living in North Yorkshire had required some speech adjustments so I could be properly understood (vowels, idioms, aspirations, etc.), and it only took until I went back for Christmas, 6 months later, for me to greet people with a typical prairie, "Hey, how're you doin'?" and have them reel back, saying, "You sound so CANADIAN. What HAPPENED?"

I listened to that tape for the first time 3 months ago. I sound... odd. I don't know who that even sounds like, even though it's my voice. I remembered all of the adjustments I'd made coming back, how shy I was to see friends I hadn't seen in years, how for a few weeks (before I could get a job) I still had more unchanged pounds in my wallet than my scanty dollars (I changed them when I had to for friend-reunion drinks, cigarettes and bus fare.) I remembered being afraid to open my mouth in public, how friendly customer service people scared me (you'll get used to being asked if you need anything again, I promise!) and how f*cking disgusting Canadian cigarettes tasted compared to my lovely Sterling menthols.

You'll adjust. Once you're just getting thoroughly sick of telling the 1,000th person, "London is great to visit, but it's hell on earth to live there," you'll be pausing in doorways to quickly yank your scarf away from your mouth to light a cigarette before the howling snow whisks your flame (and cigarette, and sanity,) away like you never left.

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09-25-2012, 08:11 PM	#10
genghisfawn Member How Do You Identify?: Femme/Gentlewoman Preferred Pronoun?: She/her Relationship Status: Happily married 05/17/14 Join Date: Jan 2012 Location: Saskatchewan, Canada Posts: 561 My Photo Gallery Thanks: 2,056 Thanked 2,158 Times in 403 Posts Rep Power: 21474850	Good luck to you! I lived in Saskatchewan all of my life before moving to the UK for a few years in my early 20s. I've been back just over two years and my re-entry was hard, despite coming back to a place I thought I knew well. Even walking through downtown Saskatoon blew my mind as I stood in front of a new, purpose-built office suite for a mining conglomerate, asking my best friend, "What was here before?" Ugly new boxes representing houses have sprung up all over. Road construction still prevails (that much never changes.) I have a tape of when I returned home, and my mother made me read the first few pages of Anne of Green Gables in my "new accent". Living in North Yorkshire had required some speech adjustments so I could be properly understood (vowels, idioms, aspirations, etc.), and it only took until I went back for Christmas, 6 months later, for me to greet people with a typical prairie, "Hey, how're you doin'?" and have them reel back, saying, "You sound so CANADIAN. What HAPPENED?" I listened to that tape for the first time 3 months ago. I sound... odd. I don't know who that even sounds like, even though it's my voice. I remembered all of the adjustments I'd made coming back, how shy I was to see friends I hadn't seen in years, how for a few weeks (before I could get a job) I still had more unchanged pounds in my wallet than my scanty dollars (I changed them when I had to for friend-reunion drinks, cigarettes and bus fare.) I remembered being afraid to open my mouth in public, how friendly customer service people scared me (you'll get used to being asked if you need anything again, I promise!) and how f*cking disgusting Canadian cigarettes tasted compared to my lovely Sterling menthols. You'll adjust. Once you're just getting thoroughly sick of telling the 1,000th person, "London is great to visit, but it's hell on earth to live there," you'll be pausing in doorways to quickly yank your scarf away from your mouth to light a cigarette before the howling snow whisks your flame (and cigarette, and sanity,) away like you never left.