pensiveness for christmas

This is not your happy christmas blog posting...sorry.  But it has a good ending.  Sometimes people say they can't tell how I'm really doing from the blog, but in this one I lay it out.  First, something I wrote back in good old P-valle, B-va, S-A.

Essay on Culture Shock – 8/21/08

 

10:30 pm, already been asleep 2 hours.  Why do I go to bed so early?  There’s something exhausting about being awake, and so comforting about being under a shield (physical and psychological) of covers.  Try to turn the light(bulb) on.  Energy surge, pop, no more lightbulb.  I would try to change the bulb, but I don’t know where there’s a ladder, or where the lightbulbs are kept.  This is not my house, I just live here.  Feel my way out the door, and into the bathroom, accidentally making noise when I trip over a chair that I swore was not there before.  I worry about waking the other residents of the house.  I tiptoe, in vain, feeling that every time I go to the bathroom in the middle of the night, I make too much noise and thus wake them up and inconvenience them.  They probably hate that I live here, with my noisy cat and weird habits.  But, I won’t sleep if I don’t go.  In the morning, cat wakes me up at 5:40 am.  Normally I could turn on the light and he’d calm down sufficiently, and I can sneak back to sleep for about 20 minutes until he jumps on my head again.  Today, I fumble around, grab a handful of his food, and throw it in his dish.  He’s not satisfied.  How I wish I had another room to put him in.  How I wish I felt like I really had a right to let him roam around the house.  How I wish I could trust that the kids wouldn’t terrorize him.  Wishing does nothing, it’s me, in the room, with a cat that won’t calm down no matter how much I want him to.  Coffee, fruit (apple tastes like laundry detergent or perfume…just like the last one.  Still, refuse to waste it).  Wish I had yogurt but the culture I brought from the city went bad and I couldn’t make any…so no luck there.  Listen to some NPR podcasts, feel a little better, cat is still nuts.  Can’t stand the screaming babies that have already arrived for the morning daycare.  Hate that I’ve been forced to live in this echoey kid-filled house.  I would never have chosen this.  Get out, I tell myself.  Get out for the morning and you’ll feel better.  Get dressed, plan to go visit the school director to do some planning, but first stop by our government ag extension’s house to buy some yogurt culture.  Damn, still not there.  Not in his office either.  Would look more but for some reason this morning two guys (who I know and are usually pretty nice) have decided that today it’s funny to say “hello” (yes in English) and sing that stupid stupid stupid 60’s song that happens to have my name in it. Pero Raquel, mi raquelita.  SHUT UP ALREADY.  GROW UP ALREADY.  See that the director is just getting to school, won’t bother her yet (she won’t pay attention at this point in her day).  For some reason, really feel like crying, decide to visit my friend.  House is open, but she’s not there.  Go home.  Want to go talk to the adults I live with, but end up tripping, feeling stupid, and knowing that if I open my mouth I will cry.  I don’t want their sympathy, I don’t want to tell them I’m sad, I’ll look weak and they’ll think, “aha, we were right, she is always sad! Why can’t the better volunteers come back?”  Pretend I was on my way to weeding the garden.  Why does my chicken wire fence get all wobbly every few weeks?  It’s never going to be tight and strong like the Bolivians’.  I have no credibility.  Sob all over my plants, but nobody sees and there are less weeds, so at least I accomplished something. Back to my one-room prison/sanctuary.  Cat has taken the liberty of digging all the sand out of his litter box…it’s a total mess.  What is wrong with him?  Am I feeding him wrong? Should I have had his stitches checked on or removed before I last left the city?  Maybe they didn’t take the testicles all the way off.  I’m a bad owner.  I want to hit him…I’m never violent back home.  I scream into my towel.  Put him in his travel cage, before he or I can do any damage.  Clean up the sand, luckily it was new and thus clean.  Feel guilty, let cat out. Kids still making noise.  Do US toddlers scream and cry that much?  I’m never having kids. Hope I was never so unreasonably demanding as these ones.  Cry more, realize I have to pee but can’t leave my room without the babysitter seeing my puffy eyes.  Put on iPod, loud (thank my lucky stars that package arrived last time I was in the city), read a few pages. Figure my eyes have cleared up enough to leave the room.  In the bathroom, catch myself in the mirror.  Well, my bangs look super awesome today!  One point: Rachel.  Feel better suddenly.  Decide I will cook Japanese rice and steamed veggies for lunch (I’m trying to be on a diet…still at a loss about why I have gained weight in site).  Rice has a larva in it.  But only one.  That’s another point for me.  Clean out the rice, put it in a better container.  Make some toast from my homemade oatmeal bread.  This bread is amazing, what an accomplishment!  And then, I feel ok.

 

This was NOT a typical 12 hours of my life here.  But this sort of morning happens, and is very real and scary while it’s going on.  Little things that wouldn’t be a big deal in the states compound on each other within one’s fragile psyche here, far away from easy fixes and speed-dials to friends.  I wanted my readers to have a sense of what culture shock feels like as you’re going through it, hence the present-tense style I wrote in.  It usually has less to do with actions taken against you by those of another culture, and more to do with a feeling of being trapped by your situation and by the fact that there is a point where the people around you won’t understand why you’re upset or why you can’t explain it.  For me, that’s what it is anyways.  Rest assured, it’s another thing I take in stride, and it luckily is a rare occurrence for me.  It’s a part of this experience, and I’m sure serves that great purpose of making me stronger.  Maybe I am changing a lot, since I bet months ago, a bad morning might have affected me for much longer.   

I included this because I go through culture shock in Panama too, and sufficient time has passed since the above events that my mom won't freak out too much if I post it.  I won't get into too much what's culture and shock in Panama at the moment.  I'll say that these two can make the bigger frustrations in my life harder to manage.

I'm frustrated that at this point in being a volunteer (I became official in April, so it's about 8 months), I still don't have a project started.  And even though it's for the obvious reason that I started anew in Panama just 2 months ago, it's like a volunteer service clock is ticking...I want to build, I want to have a thing to tell people I'm doing/did.  I want someone to tell me or at least imply that I'm having an effect in their daily life.  Pero, nada.  And as I mentioned in the last post, people aren't working right now in my area.  It is hot and dry, so in terms of all things growing and green, there isn't much market for work.  So sitting in my hammock, visiting with people, that's all nice if I would have another reason to be in my town.  As some of you know, one of my grandmothers died this month (I made it to Pennsylvania for 2 days for the funeral and to be with my family), so being in a town in Panama with no blatant reason to be there, just some vague idealistic you-know-what, instead of enjoying the comforts of home at the holidays, seems a little more ridiculous when I am still very much grieving that loss deep down inside, and know that my family is as well.

Ok, the good ending.  Sometimes you need an adrenaline hit to stop feeling jaded, sad, mad, etc.  Good thing I had planned to come to this mountain town of Boquete (in the mountains in the west of Panama) for a few days over Christmas, with the other two Bolivia transfers.  I wasn't sure what we were going to do here, besides speak English and play cards.  The other two were very into the idea of DOING things...good people to be with when you're generally bummed out.  Peter suggested we do ziplining in the cloud forest canopy...$60 which is more than I spend on most things, and I thought, "yeah, remember doing new and exciting and challenging things in Bolivia?  let's chase that feeling again."  So yours truly strapped on a harness, listened to some (I'll admit it, pretty good-looking) Panamanian zipline guides, felt a some serious adrenaline (as I am scared of heights) and left the demons at the top of the hill.  And while I admit that I would still rather be complaining about the cold and cooking Christmas breakfast for my family tomorrow morning, I feel better than I did when I woke up to what I thought would be just another day in Panama, and I suddenly remember that I still have a lot to see and do, and there is a lot I CAN do; it's about challenge, it's about sticking to it when you don't always want to, it's about being creative (which I think is the most-commonly-used adjective to describe me, and I'm not living up to it lately).

I also have big plans for the next few months in my site...building stoves, doing compost piles to prepare for planting season, etc.  So stay tuned, I'm back in it.