Before leaving Montana, I climbed behind the wheel of Robin’s opposite-side drive Suzuki truck and took it for a spin around the driveway, just to see how it would feel.
It felt like my brain was pulled out through my eyes, turned inside out, and reinserted backwards.
After five days of riding along while Ace drives on the other side of everything on the other side of the world, it still feels like my brain is being pulled out through my eyes, turned inside out, and reinserted backwards.
The stakes aren’t as high walking, so I’ve been doing that daily. When I cross the street, I look left and right and left and right before stepping into the road. I’m supposed to look right first, but I don’t trust any of this. If I don’t constantly remind myself to keep left, I end up drifting to the right side of the sidewalk and getting in the way of oncoming pedestrians.
When we are out together, Ace kindly reminds me to keep left. He’s had almost two months to adapt, and he’s not detectably foreign when walking. I felt a little better about his prompting after he told me that at first he just thought nobody knew how to walk here.
This might take a while.