The U-curve of cultural adaptation

Whether it’s because work has been building up or because, as the holidays approach, I long to be home with family, I have lately felt overcome with a lot of doubt. Doubt about whether I am strong enough to do this, doubt about whether this was the right career move, doubt about whether I will be able to ever fully adjust to living here. I look at some of the expats who seem so settled, who have forged routines and rituals that center their lives here, and I feel very unrooted by contrast.

The thing that has been most unsettling in the last few weeks is the anger I have been feeling. I am normally not an angry person (although without coffee, definitely a cranky one) but there are times when I feel so helpless or exasperated which, compounded by the feeling of being alone, then builds into frustration. After some time, the little frustrations that would normally dissipate on their own instead boil over into anger because they remain unresolved.

One example is the situation with my housing. In Ghana, you are required to pay a full year’s rent up front in cash. Having done so, I am essentially locked in to my housing decision, since moving would imply that I lose the remaining 8 months of rent I have already paid for but not yet used. I was uneasy with this aspect of the rental agreement to begin with, but the fact that my house has had a number of issues since I moved in makes it all the more frustrating. Whether it was the security guard who supposedly came with the house conveniently leaving the day before I moved in or the floors sinking or the gutter leaking or the circuit board shorting or the shower knob shocking me or the power going out, I have had the full range of home repair needs.

Each of these problems is manageable as a stand-alone issue, but altogether and over the course of time they have come to feel overwhelming. I am fortunate to have a landlord who is fairly receptive anytime I do raise an issue, but even so it frustrates me that there seems to be this never-ending series of mishaps that, more often than not, I have to deal with on my own because telling someone to fix the issue isn’t enough to ensure anything will actually get done (and get done properly). And in the meantime, it makes it hard for my house to feel like an actual home, a place where I can seek quiet refuge at the end of a long, hot day

This type of thing happens in many settings – at work, at restaurants, at the market etc. The general pattern is always the same: things don’t happen as expected or as planned, little frustrations arise, nothing is done about them, the little frustrations snowball into anger, the anger builds inside me (I feel like I am careening to the point at which it all erupts in some sort of dramatic meltdown, but I would really like to avoid happening).

A large part of the anger I feel in these situations is directed toward myself. Often, I am angry for feeling angry. I tell myself that I should be more open-minded and less uptight, or that I should let go of the cultural expectations I have as an American and be more understanding of what the cultural norms are here.

A few days ago, I was sitting with a friend and ended up confiding in her that I had been holding on to these feelings and didn’t know how to deal with them productively, but that I was afraid I might explode if I didn’t do something. She helped normalize what I was experiencing, saying that it was all part of the process of cultural adaptation. She even pointed me to this diagram (see below), which illustrates the typical stages that are experienced when adjusting to a new culture. As it turns out, I seem to be very much in the throes of the culture shock stage.

In some sense, it is helpful to know that I am not just a poorly-adjusted person with an uncontrollable rage problem. It also helps to calm some of the self-doubt that has been creeping into my thoughts. But at the same time, it still feels a bit disheartening to have lived somewhere for four months and still feel so unadjusted, so at odds with the environment you are in.

I am so looking forward to coming home for the holidays in a few weeks, but part of me is also fearful. I know that I am in a delicate place right now – teetering between feeling committed to being here and feeling tempted to give up. And I fear that actually coming home and being reminded of the things that are familiar and comforting will reset the culture shock all over again when I return to Tamale.

For now, all I know is that if the process of cultural adaptation truly is U-curved in shape, then at some point it must get better. I think, for my own sanity, I just have to keep reminding myself that each day I am here, there is growth happening – I become a little more tolerant, a little more resilient, a little more in tune with the culture and the people in this place.