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Being at home is busy. For the past two months I have been tour guide and tourist in my native land. My friend Mathurin, whom I call Mr. Know-it-All, traveled with me to Kansas. As he left his family, friends, and mother tongue for a month, longer than he has ever left them before, I returned from my version of a similar departure. I ended my Peace Corps Volunteer service and am officially looking for a job. But first I had to visit the most important people and places with Mathurin. Fortunately I was critically needed to translate as we traveled, so I didn’t have time to experience culture shock. Those surprises which I did encounter were more easily absorbed because I would translate the situation to Mathurin and talk about the differences.
At the same time that I was remembering very quickly the American habits, I was able to relate to Mathurin’s surprise and confusion. The first and most humorous incident was explaining automatic hand-washing sinks in the Paris airport. I went to the bathroom first in order to scout it out and report back to Mathurin how it worked. After explaining how to find the restrooms, I continued to describe the sinks, in that water comes out of the faucet when you introduce your hands beneath. When Mathurin returned, he said that he hadn’t been able to wash his hands because when he stuck his hands beneath the nozzle, he just felt a warm rush of air.
‘Oh!’ I said. ‘That’s the hand dryer!’
I have a distinct memory of watching a road construction crew cut and remove a large portion of the concrete in the left-hand lane as we watched, jaws agape, from the car in the right-hand lane. As we waited on a red light, Mathurin and I watched a couple days’ worth of hand labor be eaten up with a machine in a couple of minutes. He was always impressed by the machines available for most every type of work.
He was especially delighted to learn about Kansas farming. He rode a combine and harvested wheat, and made a few turns of a pasture to bale hay. He told me that he would be a happy man to be reborn as a Kansas farmer, with all those machines to do all the work. Later I showed him, at his request, how to use the lawn mower. Soon after he started, he asked me to take over for him- I told him that now he knew that working with machines is still work.
He was surprised to see so many trees and so much nature because the text books in Benin mostly show pictures of the New York and Chicago sky-lines. He loved Rocky Mountain National Park and the snow, Chicago, and was conveniently pleased enough with WalMart to do all of his souvenir shopping there. He returned home to Benin with many ideas, more understanding, and a bigger perspective on how the world works. This is how I returned home, too.
I miss Benin. I miss most of all those with whom I don’t have direct communication- my dogs, the kids from my neighborhood and basketball teams, and others who don’t have cell phones or access to email. For those friends Mathurin is essential. He mastered the internet and emailing during his stay in Kansas and remains regular at email. I miss speaking and functioning daily in French and some in Mina. I miss the freshness and spiciness of the food. I miss friends just dropping by, and napping through the hottest part of the day.
But I don’t miss being hot all day long, and I don’t miss the slight but constant worry of offending someone without knowing. I don’t miss living alone, and I do not miss the cockroaches. I am happy to be home in Kansas and look forward to whatever occupation comes my way. A bilingual park guide? A French instructor? A biology teacher? In any case, I await the adventure.

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