The past 6 months have been a blurry dream; reality never quite kicking in. “I’m really in Hong Kong. This is real,” I would tell myself. I never thought this would happen to me, but alas, I’m no exception. I’ve come to the conclusion that – despite how much Hong Kong felt like Chinatown “home” in NYC – I suffer from (dun dun dun) culture shock. According this lovely picture Google provided, I am in the depression/crisis stage(s) of my culture shock wave timeline.
I know that these feelings will pass, but when you’re in that funk and all you want to do is eat Mexican food and go on camping roadtrips with your friends, it really sucks. I just have to ride it out, diba (right)? I know Jesus walks with us as we grieve and comforts us during our best and worst times. I believe, but I can’t feel anything but tired.