And the fun begins.....

8/19/12

1 week in, 3.5 books down, 3 marriage requests declined, and I’m already tired of peanut butter and banana sandwiches…

I’ve learned a few things about myself these past few days. Like for example, I like my privacy. A lot. I’d always assumed I was an introvert, but something about having my boss be my next door neighbor be my surrogate mother and her children, grandchildren, nieces, uncles , etc. be my coworkers, neighbors, and surrogate brothers and sisters…. Well, you get the picture. They’re an absolutely wonderful family; very welcoming and friendly. I suppose it’s the stark contrast in expectations that has thrown me these initial few days. After these past 3 months of training where I was a guest in someone else’s home I was looking forward to a safe space to nest in and make my own; meanwhile they were looking forward to adopting a new member to their family and had already taken the liberty to decorate my home (which I finally took down today). While I was excited to take baths when I wanted and have a say over my own diet, I arrived to my new home with a steaming bucket waiting for me and the family patiently waiting for me to bathe so we could eat the dinner they’d prepared. Not only do we share the small yard, water supply, bathroom, and kitchen, but many people in the immediate and extended family all work in my boss/ “mother’s” organization.

Needless to say, this first week’s theme has been trying to find the delicate balance of disentangling myself enough to keep my sanity, but not too much to compromise a relationship I very much cannot afford to scar.

I have to remind myself that the fact that I have been welcomed with open arms into a new family is not the worst problem one could have; really it only has to a problem at all if I label it as one. Rationally, I know that in time we will all learn how to live with one another - but it’s just so much harder to remember when I’m living every awkward pull and tug between what they want and what I will give. Once I can build my own kitchen, get a door in the bathroom to keep the kids out, put a screen on my house’s door to keep the chickens out of my bedroom… once the family realizes I’m not going to join their church (no matter how much they try to convince me) and that I’m perfectly capable of going to the market without a chaperone… and of course once I bring down my own walls and accept their hospitality – well THEN we’ll be the happiest little family/ neighborhood/ organization in the whole village J

I’ve also learned that I had expectations about my service that I didn’t realize existed - and unsurprisingly, reality is much less romantic than my imagination’s version of where I would be right about now. Somehow I hadn’t expected so little space – physical and personal. The first few days I was no less than terrorized by children. They’d stick their faces and arms through my barred door and windows to watch every little thing I did, they’d run around my reed 2-room home screaming and hitting the walls, or they’d just sit on my veranda in front of my door crying, laughing, and/ or yelling things I couldn’t understand in their high-pitched Portuguese. Also, I’d never lived in a neighborhood where every house is arm’s throw from the other, where I can constantly hear the music from at least 3 neighbors’ homes at all times. Where is my garden going to be? Where can I put my compost? Where will my dog run free? Well, my future pup will just have to run around my neighbor’s yards.

Sorry to be complaining so much. If you couldn’t tell from the tone of this post, this first week has been a tad bit tough, both emotionally and mentally. I can’t quite put my finger on what about this experience living abroad in a foreign culture is different from all of the other times I lived alone in other countries. Perhaps it’s because it’s a longer time frame. Or perhaps it’s because for the first time I don’t have a clearly defined role. I’m not an exchange student and I’m not here to do a specific job. I’m a volunteer. My current objectives for the next 3 months are to observe and integrate, to understand and find places for improvement not just in my organization but in the entire community. It’s such a broad and open task that you’d almost assume that no matter what I did or didn’t do that I’d eventually learn about my surroundings and integrate to some degree or other. And yet, I find myself second guessing my every action. Which people are the most respected in this community that I should become close with? Who/ what/ where should I avoid that could potentially cause some people to not want to work with me? What will my work be? Where should I focus my energy? Should I paint murals downtown about malaria prevention methods? Create youth groups that focus on gender equality? Gather people together to start income generating projects. Try to build a library? Build an orphanage? Maybe I’m struggling because I have no direct supervisor to tell me what to do; the lack of direction is both exhilarating and terrifying. I can go anywhere and do anything I want and technically most everything I do will fall under my overarching goal of settling into my new home. Time is both a blessing and a curse for while I need time to understand what my role is and what my work will be, I can’t help but wonder if I could or should be doing something/ anything more productive at any given moment. Does staying home to cook fish curry and coconut rice with my host family count? What about shopping with my coworkers? Visiting different churches? Can walking around town talking with people really be considered work? Will simply going for my morning run every day and saying good morning to everyone I pass help the community get to know and trust me?

It’s funny. I knew I’d have difficulties here and there during my services but I never expected that simply beginning would be so challenging. Blegh! Okay time to wrap this up– it’s way past my bed time, almost reaching 9:30pm!!

But I supposed before I finish this post I should come clean and disclose the unfortunate news I’ve recently come across. No. My village doesn’t have a beach L . We have a dock that’s half a mile from my house, but alas, my neighbors discourage swimming with the mangrove trees. There are a good amount of lovely beaches within an hour from me, but none in my immediate vicinity. Whew, glad I got that off my chest. Family and friends – this doesn’t mean you shouldn’t still visit!!! I’m surrounded by palm, mango, banana, avocado, papaya and cashew trees, the ground is all sand, and there’re crabs, fish and prawns everywhere you look – so basically it’s as if I’m in a beach town without the mess of getting sand in your swim suit J

Até pronto (and feel free to email/ call WHENEVER YOU’D LIKE!!! Seriously. Call on me.)

-Ems