So I’ve been at site for just about a month and a half. It’s gone by pretty fast, but the days go by really slow. Our first three months at site are called an “etude de mileu,” or a study. Our job is to get to know the community, integrate into it, and keep working on language (which for me is definitely needed ). In practice, it involves a lot meeting new people and hanging out with them. Which, as for most Americans, is a huge change in pace. At times, I feel so unproductive and without a purpose, but then I remember that the success and sustainability of my work here largely depends on my awareness of the community and my integration into it. It takes time to build the necessary foundation.
Next to anticipation and waiting, just being myself is surprising hard here. It’s really difficult to be yourself in your second (and third) language. Who we are is so much about how we express ourselves and when your ability to fully communicate is limited, it is hard to be yourself. I didn’t realize how much I’ve taken the ability to communicate for granted. It’s really frustrating when you can’t. The good thing is that the days that are the hardest to get out of my house are usually the best days. Just because of little moments I have while taking a walk where the idea of integrating into my community seems so much more reachable.
So when most people think about Peace Corps, they think about no electricity, no water, hole in the ground as a bathroom, sacrifices like that. Don’t worry, that’s definitely my situation. But that’s not the hardest part of it at all. It’s being away from family and friends, living and integrating into a completely new and totally different community, and figuring out how to express yourself in a new culture and language.
One thought I’ve also been grappling with is the luxury I have of knowing a different life. I have the luxury of knowing not just electricity and running water, but also access to education and career options. It’s hard reconciling these opportunities and things I’ve been given with the realities of life in village (particularly for young girls). I realize that on some level I can never fully understand what it’s like to live here and I can never truly be fully integrated because I know a life completely different and I know I’m going home in 2 years. Many people think of what I’m doing here as a sacrifice, but living here for two years is really a luxury I have, something I am very lucky to be able to do. And after I’m done with my service, I have the comfort of knowing I’m going home to so many opportunities, many because of my choice to be here.
One thing I have been doing since I’ve been here is helping out with baby weighings and prenatal consultations. Mostly just the recording, can’t do much else. It’s nice to have something to do and it’s a great way to get to know the CSPS and get to know people in our region. It’s also given me ideas for possible projects. It’s nice starting to have a vision of what the next 2 years will look like and have more “concrete” ideas of what I will actually be doing. I also sometimes help take temperatures of babies in the waiting room. This makes most babies scream. I’m the boggieman with a thermometer. One girl even covered her eyes as she cried. The nurses keep telling me it’s because the babies think I’m going to give them a shot. But I think it’s because I must look like some sort of ghost. You know I’m working when you hear tons of babies screaming.
So in addition to a whole bunch of patience and slowing down, here are some of the others things I’ve learned:
• Cooking over charcoal is really hard. Right now, the entire country is out of gas that powers stoves. It’s not good because it is how CSPS’s with no electricity power the refrigerator for the vaccines. My CSPS may need to send them to Zabre (where there’s electricity) soon. For me, it means if I want to cook, I use charcoal. The first time I did it on my own, it took 2 hours just to get the water to boil. Last time, the charcoal finished before I was finished cooking. My pasta was super undercooked and the sauce was not cooked at all. So not good.
• I have some unwanted roommates. Bats. But, when I’m under my mosquito net at night, they’re not really that scary. My mosquito net is my safety blanket.
• I really like to bike. Really. So I’m way out in the bush. In one month, I’ve biked over 400 km, or 248 miles. Finally getting my cross-training in.
• It really annoys me when people keep repeating the same phrase to me in Bissa when I don’t understand it. It’s not funny. But it makes me feel slightly better to say something back in English. As long as I smile and laugh when I say it, I can probably say pretty much anything.
