To add a little humility to my seemingly “I know how to live life correctly” entry below, let me just say that I’m humbled by my own realization that I have not been invited to nearly as many meals as I assumed I would’ve. I’m not normally the “I can’t believe I wasn’t invited” person, but this is supposed to be a culture of inviting everyone over, of spontaneous meals that come from nowhere for the guest who just popped in. And even my host mom commented that it was weird that none of the students I work with invited me to their house for one of the millions of holiday celebrations. Or my former partner (ever). But that’s the weird line between teacher and friend. I’m neither I guess.
I am perfectly aware of my hypocrisy; I want to be with my host family. Having spent so much time running back and forth to Chisinau, I like to just be at home, especially during the holidays, when we have family here as well. And there has been a friend of the family who has invited me to her village on innumerable occasions and I have turned her down repeatedly because of the rarity that I am actually at home and thus prefer to stay home. And the spontaneous “you need to come to my house to eat loads of food” hospitality can sometimes be stressful instead of flattering.
But now that I realize that I’ve only been to one spontaneous evening (which included two houses – and that was one year ago), well I feel a little disappointed. Am I just not warm with these people? Is my village just slightly less tied to this tradition? I do know that the various traditions of saying “good morning” also vary from village to village. In some villages I should only speak to women. In other villages, anyone older than me (as in my current village now). And the frequency with which young children (and teenage boys) say hello to their elders varies greatly. It is then my hypothesis that the “open doors, big table” attitude parallels the variations in “good morning” frequency.
And yet, I still feel a bizarre combination of rejected, guilty, and disappointed.
Sunday, February 22, 2009
Saturday, February 21, 2009
Going in Circles
February 8, 2009
I recently wrote an email detailing my marathon experience. I wanted to post the whole thing, but it wasn’t entirely publicly appropriate. In fact the details that are the most emotional are simultaneously the most personal – but isn’t that normally the case? I can say, though, that I was surprised once again by the strength of my own body. I have not experienced anything as motivating as the confidence that comes after completing a marathon, especially after not thinking you would and wrestling an angry stomach with an absence of toilets. I finished. And I’d be lying if I said I didn’t doubt it. It had gotten to the point pre-race when I just accepted that it would be painful, but temporary. Muscularly, it felt much better than anticipated. Emotionally/stomach-wise…not so much. But the resulting high that came from emotional stress rather than muscle fatigue was more satisfying.
The trip to Morocco was fantastic. I enjoyed each moment of the trip and was continuously impressed by events that worked out for us. When I first got back to Chisinau, I felt invincible. I was sure that I would be able to battle the remaining winter weeks with style and energy. It turned out that the week of my return was much harder than I imagined. I succumbed back to habits of Office-watching and pajama-wearing. Knowing that a bath would help me only added to the frustration; I didn’t want to start heating water again. There was no longer a marathon routine. No scheduled run, shower, or activity. But there was definitely still winter.
Except yesterday it was a shocking 50 degrees – almost as warm as when we were in Morocco.
February 21, 2009
Well that warm-ish weather left as surprisingly as it showed up. It’s back down to zero and there is snow once again upon the ground. I want the weather to start heating up, but that means mud. I forgot how much I disliked the mud – especially as I was complaining about the ice. The fact was that if I had worn my Yak Traks the snow/ice wouldn’t have been as much of a problem.
They don’t work as well with the mud which is ridiculously slippery. Sometimes the thicker stuff is better – just trudge right through it with those cheap Moldovan boots that you’re going to throw away in a few months anyway. But the thicker stuff acts like a plunger, sucking in your foot and making the same sloppy, popping sound when you pull your foot out.
I’ve gotten back into a semi-routine now, but I wouldn’t mind being able to run again (it’s too cold for pleasure walks). And I remember why the February wind was my enemy; it bites. Unfortunately I left my running stuff in Chisinau before leaving for the race and I haven’t been able to bring it back yet. It’s barely been three weeks since I’ve been back (seems like ages). And I’m already back contemplating what I’m still doing here – or what I’ve ever been doing here.
The mental perception of November-March seemed longer last year. But this year it’s still too long. I’m tired. Tired of heating water for a bath (but I am oh-so-efficient now). I’m tired of washing laundry by hand (so sometimes I just don’t). I’m tired of carbs (and how I usually love them). I’m sure this is all exaggerated by winter. Once things get moving again, when everything starts warming up and I can be outside in the sunshine, I will likely cheer up. But I will be ready to go when the time comes. I can’t wait for the summer sun-heated shower that drips over me bucket-free. I guess, then, it’s not just Moldova…it’s winter in Moldova.
When April comes, I’ll tell you that I didn’t gain 15 pounds this winter. March was the peak of last year’s winter weight. I’d never had a winter weight before. And that will be Marathon Goal #1. Check.
No this experience has not been what I expected but I think that is a factor of my expectations. I don’t want to hypothesize on my final Peace Corps recommendations as I’m not done with the experience yet. But I am more solidified in my belief that each person needs to follow their own direction and that following the advice of people who have different intentions will only end up in frustration and disappointment.
Ironically, this also means that I’ve shifted gears slightly when it comes to graduate school planning. I’m still planning on getting all of my applications ready by the time I leave Moldova, but my expected direction has morphed again. My interests (numerous as they are) haven’t gone away. They haven’t narrowed themselves or changed drastically in any other way as I expected them to do during my two years in Moldova. Instead, they’ve become more unified and magnified as a whole. Thus it’s become more essential to find a program, a field that would allow me to study the relationship between each of my interests. And, funnily enough, it leads me right back to the place I started. Every step, every degree idea I’ve researched (and on dial-up, each “idea” is a month-long process of researching schools, courses, and options) has led to the next, more specific program. It follows the same theory that discovering what you don’t like (or “what you’re not writing about” as the metaphor started) leads you to what you DO want. And it’s taking me in a circle, which each turn more educated than the last.
It’s funny too, that one small green book continues to echo in my mind, telling me something I knew even before I read it. Isn’t it interesting, too, that my “favorite little book” is one that agrees with my own thoughts? Do what you love. If you have the chance to be where you want, to do what you want, take a leap and do it and things will end up where they are supposed to end up. Follow your gut. Get down to the simplicity gut-driven heart of the matter. Me, who has been so lucky in the past…how could I not trust that? I have seen the way that life leads ME in the right directions. And I’ve spouted this to friends and family, so why not follow it myself? It’s not a matter of what you are good at but what makes you feel good. (I’m writing this to myself now.) And the scariest part is sometimes feeling that you aren’t supported in your bizarre interests, your unorthodox desires. But if there’s a natural gift within you for something, if it sparks a fire…that’s the type of motivation you want to follow! And I’ve have been so phenomenally supported by friends and family (especially throughout my Peace Corps experience) that I can almost throw out the “what if I don’t have support?” whopper.
And so when I think about what I’ve actually taken my precious dial-up time to read about, to argue about, to research and discuss…well that’s as simple as it gets. The things that interest me most about the youth I work with, for example…the idiosyncrasies that may not stick out to someone else. Or perhaps they are frustrations to someone else and, in this particular interest, they are curiosities to me…something I want to get to the heart of. Simply put, this is what I want to study and if I can find a place where I can explore each of these (I can) then why not? Why choose one and feel incomplete?
Perhaps this is the most time I’ve devoted to talking about a program I’m not naming (but I’ve changed my mind so passionately so many times).
So I’ve come around the circle once again, both with my feelings about being in Moldova and my ideas about what to do when I get back. Undoubtedly I’ll flip around a dozen more times, but there is something reassuring in the fact that it’s brought me back to the same spot each time.
I recently wrote an email detailing my marathon experience. I wanted to post the whole thing, but it wasn’t entirely publicly appropriate. In fact the details that are the most emotional are simultaneously the most personal – but isn’t that normally the case? I can say, though, that I was surprised once again by the strength of my own body. I have not experienced anything as motivating as the confidence that comes after completing a marathon, especially after not thinking you would and wrestling an angry stomach with an absence of toilets. I finished. And I’d be lying if I said I didn’t doubt it. It had gotten to the point pre-race when I just accepted that it would be painful, but temporary. Muscularly, it felt much better than anticipated. Emotionally/stomach-wise…not so much. But the resulting high that came from emotional stress rather than muscle fatigue was more satisfying.
The trip to Morocco was fantastic. I enjoyed each moment of the trip and was continuously impressed by events that worked out for us. When I first got back to Chisinau, I felt invincible. I was sure that I would be able to battle the remaining winter weeks with style and energy. It turned out that the week of my return was much harder than I imagined. I succumbed back to habits of Office-watching and pajama-wearing. Knowing that a bath would help me only added to the frustration; I didn’t want to start heating water again. There was no longer a marathon routine. No scheduled run, shower, or activity. But there was definitely still winter.
Except yesterday it was a shocking 50 degrees – almost as warm as when we were in Morocco.
February 21, 2009
Well that warm-ish weather left as surprisingly as it showed up. It’s back down to zero and there is snow once again upon the ground. I want the weather to start heating up, but that means mud. I forgot how much I disliked the mud – especially as I was complaining about the ice. The fact was that if I had worn my Yak Traks the snow/ice wouldn’t have been as much of a problem.
They don’t work as well with the mud which is ridiculously slippery. Sometimes the thicker stuff is better – just trudge right through it with those cheap Moldovan boots that you’re going to throw away in a few months anyway. But the thicker stuff acts like a plunger, sucking in your foot and making the same sloppy, popping sound when you pull your foot out.
I’ve gotten back into a semi-routine now, but I wouldn’t mind being able to run again (it’s too cold for pleasure walks). And I remember why the February wind was my enemy; it bites. Unfortunately I left my running stuff in Chisinau before leaving for the race and I haven’t been able to bring it back yet. It’s barely been three weeks since I’ve been back (seems like ages). And I’m already back contemplating what I’m still doing here – or what I’ve ever been doing here.
The mental perception of November-March seemed longer last year. But this year it’s still too long. I’m tired. Tired of heating water for a bath (but I am oh-so-efficient now). I’m tired of washing laundry by hand (so sometimes I just don’t). I’m tired of carbs (and how I usually love them). I’m sure this is all exaggerated by winter. Once things get moving again, when everything starts warming up and I can be outside in the sunshine, I will likely cheer up. But I will be ready to go when the time comes. I can’t wait for the summer sun-heated shower that drips over me bucket-free. I guess, then, it’s not just Moldova…it’s winter in Moldova.
When April comes, I’ll tell you that I didn’t gain 15 pounds this winter. March was the peak of last year’s winter weight. I’d never had a winter weight before. And that will be Marathon Goal #1. Check.
No this experience has not been what I expected but I think that is a factor of my expectations. I don’t want to hypothesize on my final Peace Corps recommendations as I’m not done with the experience yet. But I am more solidified in my belief that each person needs to follow their own direction and that following the advice of people who have different intentions will only end up in frustration and disappointment.
Ironically, this also means that I’ve shifted gears slightly when it comes to graduate school planning. I’m still planning on getting all of my applications ready by the time I leave Moldova, but my expected direction has morphed again. My interests (numerous as they are) haven’t gone away. They haven’t narrowed themselves or changed drastically in any other way as I expected them to do during my two years in Moldova. Instead, they’ve become more unified and magnified as a whole. Thus it’s become more essential to find a program, a field that would allow me to study the relationship between each of my interests. And, funnily enough, it leads me right back to the place I started. Every step, every degree idea I’ve researched (and on dial-up, each “idea” is a month-long process of researching schools, courses, and options) has led to the next, more specific program. It follows the same theory that discovering what you don’t like (or “what you’re not writing about” as the metaphor started) leads you to what you DO want. And it’s taking me in a circle, which each turn more educated than the last.
It’s funny too, that one small green book continues to echo in my mind, telling me something I knew even before I read it. Isn’t it interesting, too, that my “favorite little book” is one that agrees with my own thoughts? Do what you love. If you have the chance to be where you want, to do what you want, take a leap and do it and things will end up where they are supposed to end up. Follow your gut. Get down to the simplicity gut-driven heart of the matter. Me, who has been so lucky in the past…how could I not trust that? I have seen the way that life leads ME in the right directions. And I’ve spouted this to friends and family, so why not follow it myself? It’s not a matter of what you are good at but what makes you feel good. (I’m writing this to myself now.) And the scariest part is sometimes feeling that you aren’t supported in your bizarre interests, your unorthodox desires. But if there’s a natural gift within you for something, if it sparks a fire…that’s the type of motivation you want to follow! And I’ve have been so phenomenally supported by friends and family (especially throughout my Peace Corps experience) that I can almost throw out the “what if I don’t have support?” whopper.
And so when I think about what I’ve actually taken my precious dial-up time to read about, to argue about, to research and discuss…well that’s as simple as it gets. The things that interest me most about the youth I work with, for example…the idiosyncrasies that may not stick out to someone else. Or perhaps they are frustrations to someone else and, in this particular interest, they are curiosities to me…something I want to get to the heart of. Simply put, this is what I want to study and if I can find a place where I can explore each of these (I can) then why not? Why choose one and feel incomplete?
Perhaps this is the most time I’ve devoted to talking about a program I’m not naming (but I’ve changed my mind so passionately so many times).
So I’ve come around the circle once again, both with my feelings about being in Moldova and my ideas about what to do when I get back. Undoubtedly I’ll flip around a dozen more times, but there is something reassuring in the fact that it’s brought me back to the same spot each time.
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