Fellow trainees go on and on about where they’d like to be placed for their permanent site after training ends in June. They’d like to be placed close to the beach, high on a mountain, or biking distance from another volunteer. My preference criterion is based on one thing: laba-laba (spider in Bahasa Indonesian).
After being stared down by a gigantic laba-laba while squatting in the kamar mandi (restroom), I began to feel paranoid about who or what observes my daily routine. I constantly feel like I’m being watched and discussed. And it doesn’t help that every time I say hi to an Indonesian on the street, he or she giggles. Because I already have the village residents gossiping and keeping an eye on me, I’d rather no other creatures follow suit.
There is little possibility that my request will be taken seriously. Because my fear could probably be cured through exposure therapy, there’s no doubt in my mind that Peace Corps will choose a site for me with the most laba-laba if I request otherwise.
Current volunteers constantly say I will love my permanent site. Or rather, I will be very good at convincing myself that I do. I may fear laba-laba in general, but apparently the laba-laba at my permanent site will be an exception. They will, instead, become part of the family, part of the village, and in turn part of me.
By seeing it that way, I guess I can kind of get aboard that train. I mean I’m far from adopting a laba-laba and welcoming him into my home. But, uh, I guess I can kind of be open to eventually trying to, well, build some sort of working tolerance for those leggy creatures.
No comments:
Post a Comment