Capable and Courting Uncertainty

I wanted to write on Wednesday the 12^th to mark my six months in Moldova. I didn’t. But the day was monumental. At least, the change was – I have noticed an anxiety, only evident in its lessening. While I wouldn’t have said I was anxious then, I can say I am less anxious now – at least where other people are concerned. As productive as my language learning might be, it definitely led to a lingering uncertainty and separation from those around me who speak a language I only newly understand. Fact is, if I’m not focusing on your every Romanian word, I’m likely daydreaming. Sorry.

As our six months came along, I found myself both more comfortable in my village and more eager to get away for the weekend – not, as theory goes, to party hardy all the time…but to be around peers who speak English and don’t yet have children. I get along well with the people in my community, but there’s still that absence, that connection, that friend that doesn’t quite exist yet. But it’s quite lovely to just be away from the village, to rest and hide from the still ridiculously uncertain role I have in my village.

Ah, yes, uncertainty. Like all dirty mistresses, its attraction also brings my disgust. “Moldova is like my husband,” she told me. “The same things that intrigued me in the beginning now drive me crazy, but I love it, because it’s my husband.” While I am not in the same place to talk about my love affair with Moldova, that is exactly how I feel about uncertainty. I’m not married to it, but it’s my dirty lover. As sick and frustrated, annoyed and impatient it makes me, as wrong as it feels, it’s exciting and invigorating to be courting uncertainty – in all aspects. The noncommittal abundance of opportunity breeds ideas and passion, but it also flirts with insecurity and stomach aches. And I have enough stomach problems as it is for anxiety to be taking its turn as well. But to have too many options – what a wonderful dilemma this is!

I’m talking about every form of uncertainty – my future, my role in my village, the Eggs Benedict quest. Yes, about that…I suppose one of my frustrations with “uncertainty” is that the Eggs Benedict Quest seeks certainty and not having it seems to undermine the process – even though it is a necessity in the journey.

So to end at least some of this vagueness, point is I don’t know what I want. And that’s ok. Yes, I know, you really do not need to convince me. I’m merely expressing the multitude of categories that fill the Uncertainty Box. It makes decision making exciting when all options are intriguing, like when all doors lead to a different foreign adventure. But when you actually have to make a decision, well I don’t like that. I tend to procrastinate until the choice is clear and necessary. In the past it was easier to act when I knew something was NOT for me. But now it’s the opposite. I need to find out what IS for me.

What do I miss? What passion did I previous take for granted? Where’s that “trust your gut” and “listen to your daydreams” feeling? It’s here. I’ve just been too preoccupied with worry that I haven’t been listening. Ok, so now an hour into this letter let me get to the worry-free part.

I miss theatre. Quite painfully. There’s that heart-swelling feeling that makes me want to burst into song when I come out of a performance. Not that bursting into song is all that rare (it’s pretty darn common), but normally it’s spontaneous and subconscious. This post-theatre performance feeling is powerful and uncontainable, it builds up ravenously until I explode, or dance, or smile so wide that you’d think I’d just fallen in love. I probably did. I have a tendency of falling for at least one actor per performance. So what does that mean? Does that mean I go back to school for theatre? For writing? Maybe. We’ll see. And it’s totally possible that I just need to find a way to bring more theatre into my life, to attend performances in Moldova, or to bring a love for theatre to the youth in my village. It doesn’t necessarily mean I need to ignore everything else and leave the Peace Corps to pursue theatre. I’m just excited to miss something this much. To have a feeling so strong for something.

I have also woken up wanting to open a school. Not to teach. To open the school. I think I would enjoy that process, the ability to use my creativity in the development of a school. In fact, I see myself being quite giddy during that adventure.

And then there’s the language love. Even on frustrating days, the “you think you know more about America than I do because I can’t express myself in your language” days, or the “please stop saying ‘you don’t know, you don’t know’ because I do know, it just doesn’t make sense in Romanian” days. Repeating what I said in the last post: learning languages makes me happy. In fact, I’m glad I didn’t end up in a French-speaking country because I love learning this NEW language, adding one to the list!

I’m not trying to define life. I’m not even pretending to assume that I will be a master of universal knowledge by the time I head stateside. Or that I want to be. But how exciting is this so far?!?! All my written worries are only mental ponderings. And they are normally the firings that result in great discoveries and adventures.

On a non-thought-involved note, I’ve never snored so much in my life. My apologies to those I’ve woken up, to those who I’ve scared because I sounded like I was drowning. I’m going to have a cold until summer, so I will probably snore at least until June. Buy earplugs.

Bathing is much more efficient. “You learned how to have a Moldovan bath.” Indeed. I can heat the water, get something accomplished, and then bathe in five minutes as opposed to the twenty it took before. That might have something to do with the weather heating up a bit; the tile in the bath room is less biting.

And one of my favorite games is Let’s Talk About How Wonderful So-And-So Is. And what’s better is when that person comes around the corner at just that moment. Man…really…I love when that happens. But I also love that I’m surrounded by people who like to play this game as well. It sure beats the Let’s Talk About the Bad Things game. I don’t like that game. And I don’t like being around the people that like that game.

This is where I am: balancing being somewhere that got decided for me, doing work that other people have requested, simultaneously discovering what it is that I’d rather be doing instead. It’s quite lovely.

“You’re a capable girl; tell them if you don’t like it.” I’m not bothered, I said, just curious. And I smiled. And then she laughed this spontaneous laugh, not from her belly, but honest, more than a chuckle. And I didn’t think I was being funny, just trying to explain my story. But her lightheartedness mirrored my own and that’s when you know that nothing is as serious as we make it seem.