Monday, September 29, 2008

One Year Down: Exhaling, Running, and Eating Apples

It’s been a weekend of exhaling, that’s what I’m calling it. It’s amazing how many times you can catch your muscles relaxing when you didn’t even notice that they had been tense. Let me catch you up with what followed my one-year-in-country moment: gray sky. Sixteen days without even a hint of blue sky, not one moment of sunshine. That’s 24/7 moodiness and complaining; 384 hours of “you’ve got to be kidding me” and “it’s way too early for this.” When September 1st came, so did a cool, dry wind, i.e. Fall. I told myself: it’s not that cold yet, this is ok. And then BOOM! My “congratulations for one year” was freezing rain on September 12th. The “cold months” in Moldova (as allocated by the Peace Corps heating allowance) are October through March
(read: HALF OF THE YEAR!). Six months is too long as it is, the additional September phase was not welcomed at all.

But, that’s all over now; there’s blue sky today. And there was blue sky yesterday, too. It started Saturday evening on my way home from a full Friday of baking. Let me tell you, for someone who hasn’t felt sunlight in a while, you can almost forget what it feels like on your face. It’s beautiful and calming. It’s necessary.

Other little “thank you” moments came from finding my tweezers, then my engraved Swiss Army knife, being able to (finally) save my documents after not being able to use the portable hard drive for an entire year, then reloading the operating system and applications on my computer. Being able to sign on to the internet from my own computer was exciting, too. But the largest, most anticipated exhale came today when I submitted two separate grant proposals, one of which asks for way too much money for something that is totally necessary.

Perhaps this is the more appropriate one-year-in-country entry, as only passing the one year mark has made me better able to reflect on it. As with the previously mentioned exhaling moments, I’ve found that my prayers changed a million times over, as well. They went from “please let this pass” to asking for patience to “please let this work” to trying to be open to what came my way. I cannot help but put expectations on some of these project proposals – one of the most dangerous non-defensive moves I can make. Yet the fact that I have actually put a significant amount of tangible work into these is not something I can easily ignore. Of course, there is a second option, and I just hope that I am optimistic enough to follow through with it if this 27,000 Euro request isn’t granted. It would prove that there’s no need to give up after a first try. And while that “proof” would be directed toward my Moldovan counterpart, it would be essential for my own learning as well.

Moldova has emphatically proven to me that what we learn in theory is not always easily transferred to practice. After graduating, I felt confident that I had enrichment my Child and Adolescent Development education with thorough, simultaneous practice. I’ve spouted multiple times that it was the busy schedule, the parallel of work and study that propelled my learning and made it more comprehensive. However, what works in California (in English) doesn’t necessarily work in village of 3,000 (in Romanian).

I realized that my “relationship” with youth, in front of a class, in the gym, and in uncomfortable situations, was language-dependent. Not just language in the English-Romanian sense, but language in my ability to communicate emotionally, to relate through examples, to choose age-appropriate responses and to explain myself. While it was immediately evident that I was the “talky coach,” I hadn’t outlined how I exhibited that – I just thought I talked more. I also hadn’t realized that those methods would be more difficult to utilize here.

Additionally surprising was the realization that I had always been “supplied” a group of youth, kids, girls, etc. What I hadn’t been prepared for was the motivating-from-scratch factor. Sure, I understand the necessity of motivating in all social domains, but motivating a group that isn’t yet formed, in a language you’ve just learned, for an interest that you came up with yourself….well, it develops a lot more slowly.

I also find that my patience with cultural difference, with questions that I feel are inappropriate, with hospitality that comes across as pushiness…well it tires. And yet, just when I snap and say something sarcastic to myself, I’m proven wrong and the motives that I judged as improper dissipate to reveal misconceptions and prejudgments on my part. Of course, I acknowledge the need to express frustration, especially as some get ready to leave for good. Working day in and day out with logistics that don’t make sense and apparent intrusions to personal space…well we spend so much time trying to have patience with it, trying to understand the beauty of cultural differences, that when the time comes when you can exhale and release all frustrations, when you no longer need to conform to someone else’s standard…I can see the liberation. But I’m not there yet. Right now I still have one more year, and, truthfully, I hope that I don’t need to think of it as liberation. I’d rather spend this next year finding better ways to express, explain, and stand up for myself.

And what I never knew how much I loved: chopped apples in brown sugar and cinnamon. I knew I like the combo as it’s the same as apple pie filling (and don’t get me started talking about pie…) but whenever eating or making an apple pie, I never ate the filling before baking it, and I never eat the filling without the crust (or it just wouldn’t be pie). But there’s something so enjoyable about crisp cool apples that make their own glaze when tossed with brown sugar.

I need to acknowledge that any moment of release, any of those “thank you moments” was aided by another person. I have been so blessed by the people around me. I’ve caught myself literally wondering why I have been as blessed as I am, and I know that I won’t hear or see an answer for years to come – if ever – but all I know is that I am frequently filled with divine gratitude and that all I can do is make it all worthwhile, to live up to it, not letting inconsequential factors get in the way of momentous and purposeful experiences.

On a similar subject, I’ve decided to train for another marathon, publicizing it as much as I can so that I have more motivation to get my tush outside when it gets permanently cold and uncomfortable. Last winter I didn’t know what to expect, which, in hindsight, helped me until March when I was confused about why it didn’t feel like Spring. The problem with this upcoming winter is that I know exactly how long it might very likely last and I don’t like it. While hibernating is comfortable when it’s cold outside, the 24/7 sedentary-ness doesn’t help your state of mind. So I’m going to stay active, to keep my mind moving, to fight the emotional-ness that creeps up indisputably in the winter. And yet, even though the majority of my winter-related thoughts involve grimacing and complaining, the random “it wasn’t actually that bad” thoughts come up from time to time, too. We’ll see. I do know, though, that I don’t plan on letting winter get the best of me. So I will run through the majority of the winter and February 13th I will run in Luxor City, both keeping me motivated and getting me to a warm climate in the winter.

And if there were any host family I would want to be snowed inside with, it would be this one. I feel no stress about food or communication here and they are always up for a chat when I need some non-American support. I know that I will stay here, in this house, for the full two years. I will not move families (don’t want to) and I will not live solo (nowhere to go anyway). But instead of being frustrated, I want to embrace the short-lived time when I will have homemade bread available everyday, when the patter of chickens is normal, and when all dairy is home-processed.

It doesn’t surprise me either, that while I may be adapting well enough to this situation, being out of the loop on happenings at home – and unable to help when need be – hasn’t gotten much easier.

Yes, I am enjoying my time in Moldova. Yes, to date I have had the experience that I could wish to have during the first 12 months. But I also know that the next year will bring even more uncertainty and anxiety and that it will shock me, as well. I can’t comprehend, let alone express, the weirdness that is living in an experience that you know will end. Working and adapting and fighting for an experience that you will soon leave can be reassuring but is often discouraging. I came here for an experience that I hoped would not be isolated, that I would utilize for years to come. And I trust that will be the case. But there will surely be some experiences, relationships, realizations, and memories that will remain only here…and that is enormously bizarre.