Culture Shock

So I moved to Lithuania to teach English and spend time with my son and his family. For the past three weeks I’ve been settling in and getting ready to teach.One evening at my son Benj’s house, I shared my struggles with the office equipment. I said, “I’m not asking you to solve my technical problems. I want to talk about how this makes me feel.”After listening, he observed, “You have more than one culture to adjust to. You’re in a new place in a new time zone with a new language, you have a new job at a new place with new people.” He’s right. This is my first job outside the home in over 30 years. Academia has its own culture. My place in this group is not well-defined (I’m the only person whose work is solely in the English Language Institute. That means I am not really “faculty,” but I obviously don’t count as staff or student either!). I’m constantly forced to ask, “Is this resource for me? Am I included in this meeting? Who should I ask for help with this? What’s the appropriate attire for this event? Would I be stepping on someone’s toes if I do this? Am I annoying people by asking too many questions?”I needed context.I didn’t realize how exhausting the adjustment would be. After the hours of struggling with office technology, I was barely able to focus on learning a new game that Benjamin’s family was eager to share with me. As I walked back to my apartment, the bricks on the pavement seemed to be undulating in wavy lines. That’s how tired my brain was.A few days later, I was preparing to attend a farewell coffee for a departing professor I’d met the first few days I was here. Rasa* had dined with some of us the first Sunday I was here. She needed a sabbatical, and seemed tired. I found a nice greeting card in my new desk, apparently left by its former occupant. Great! But when I went to get the card, it was gone! Inwardly, I overreacted. I was angry. I just wanted to be in control of my life, and what if other things in my shared turned up missing?I considered bailing on the whole endeavor, but, recalling how tired Rasa looked, and wrote some gracious words on a piece of notebook paper and stapled it inelegantly. Feeling awkward at the coffee, I left the note with Rasa’s things and got out of there.A few days later I got an email from her, saying how much it meant to her that I would try to encourage her in this way. She didn't seem to care that my words were on a random piece of notebook paper instead of a pretty card.This is only a small example of the way that culture shock can mess with your mind and emotions. Something that would be a molehill in my home culture became a mountain in the new one. It was tempting to think, “Sending a word of encouragement is too hard, and I have my own stuff to take care of.” The temptation to focus solely on my self and my life is always present (this is true at home, too, but even more so in the new situation!)