Ah. I am back in Azerbaijan.
It is a bit of an odd feeling. I am really happy to be back. To sleep in my bed. To experiment in the kitchen and spend 2 hours making bite-sized peanut butter cookies. I really like having more than 2 pairs of socks at my disposal, least to say of the ability to wash them whenever I feel like it.
Yet, I am a little frustrated. The "Alaskan Löki" had taken over. I was no longer "PCV Löki". I used 5 dollar words and spoke a mile per minute. I talked about my family (all about my family) and referenced my own personal experiences with abandon. I was finding that balance between who I am in Azerbaijan and who I was in Alaska.
And now, I am back to being just PCV Löki.
It is frustrating to realize that I, again, am speaking too fast. That I have forgotten simple Azerbaijani words and that my tempo of speech has been disrupted by weeks of not using the language. It is frustrating to have to listen to that inner voice that says, "you probaby should not say that out loud."
I love being a PCV, but, oi, I do love being just Löki more.