Light A Candle

I’m reassigned as an English teacher in Indonesia starting March 2014. Since I gave up my real job a month ago because I expected to leave for Kenya in October, I’ve been looking for seasonal and part-time work to keep me busy. So I applied for an activity aide position at a nursing home where my sister works, and I was basically hired. The job seemed super cool with lots of interaction with different kinds of people. I’d be leading BINGO games and doing sensory exercises with the residents. It all seemed like a productive use of my time for the next four months. The Activities Director approved of my choice to serve in the Peace Corps. She also really needed the help so didn’t mind my four-month stay. But when the HR manager found out how long I planned to stay, I was un-hired. 

In this unfortunate situation, I could do two things: move on or dwell.

I could have considered lying to the HR manager, saying I’d stay longer then quit when I eventually leave for Indonesia. But that would weigh on my conscience. I could have damned the whole facility and stayed angry for not being given the opportunity to grace its residents with my charisma. But would that solve anything?

A proverb:

“Look at what you’ve got and make the best of it. It is better to light a candle than to curse the darkness.”

But sometimes I pride myself for writing down every thought and emotion I have that I think it’s self-reflection when I'm really just over thinking. Ranting is not self-reflection. Dwelling on the past is not self-reflection. Looking to the past can be helpful if you're using those mistakes as a jumping off point to start negotiations with yourself. Is it time to change my behavior? What does this mistake mean for me in the long-run? 

It can be hard to spot the over thinking when emotions run high. I always thought it was a good thing to be aggressive when it came to expressing how I feel, but perhaps the aggression should be redirected in a positive way. Instead of plotting some grand revenge, I should be using that energy to thinking about the next opportunity. 

I’m still bummed I didn’t officially get the job, but it's no use letting the bitterness rule my life. Time to move on. Time to learn from my mistakes. Time to tweak my resume a bit more for the next interview. 

Afterward, I enjoyed some retail therapy. I went rogue and bought very trendy pants (I think they’re pants) from Forever 21. I typically wouldn’t buy pants there but until Indonesia, I will try to be more stylish. We all need roles to play to make life more interesting. And please take note that “try” is the keyword. I just hope I don’t look like I’m trying too hard.

Added Pressure

Our trip to Kenya has been indefinitely postponed. And all the volunteers who were supposed to go will be reassigned to different countries with different assignments. This process may take several months, so I’m sure I’m not the only one who is feeling the pressure to figure out what to do for the next several months. I keep telling myself:

“You have to let the added pressure move you forward, not drown you.”

But the setback has me drowning in pity for myself because I feel stuck. I should easily move on to the next leg of my career goal, which is graduate school. But I want to do the Peace Corps before graduate school because I expect the experience to mentally and emotionally prepare me for the new level of academic rigor that graduate school demands. Basically, I feel unproductive, which is a feeling I do not welcome.

To drag out this pity party, I still feel like a kid and I need to get over that by drastically changing how I live my life. But I can't really do that until I start this Peace Corps journey. I need to transform into a person who is ready to accept adulthood because I currently do not.

At my current mental state, I’m reminded by Robert Frost’s poem,

"Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening"

Whose woods these are I think I know. 

His house is in the village though; 

He will not see me stopping here 

To watch his woods fill up with snow. 

My little horse must think it queer 

To stop without a farmhouse near 

Between the woods and frozen lake 

The darkest evening of the year. 

He gives his harness bells a shake 

To ask if there is some mistake. 

The only other sound’s the sweep 

Of easy wind and downy flake. 

The woods are lovely, dark and deep. 

But I have promises to keep, 

And miles to go before I sleep, 

And miles to go before I sleep. 

I’m still committed to serve because I know Peace Corps will be worth the wait. And I expect the journey to be "dark and deep." I expect Peace Corps to challenge me in unexpected ways. I expect to develop new skills that could only develop from overcoming adversity. 

The only thing I wasn't expecting was the journey to the start of the real journey.

The Next Four Weeks

The Westgate Mall shooting delayed my trip to Kenya six weeks for security reasons. A terrible thing happened in the capital and I can’t help thinking:

“I just want to start my awesome Peace Corps adventure now!”

But I’m so thankful to have friends who give me reality checks. Some say:

“Everything happens for a reason.” While others say:

“You can still have meaningful experiences here before Kenya.”

They both hold some truth, but what are those meaningful experiences? I’ve already put my head in the Peace Corps game and now I need a new game plan for the next few weeks. How can I hope for meaning when I feel like I’m in limbo?

A friend sent me an article about meaning and happiness. Meaning and happiness seem exclusive from one another, but at the same time affect each other. For example, I’ve a lot of eggs in this Peace Corps basket. I want this experience to develop a lot of meaning in my life to the point where I feel comfortable seeking out experiences that make me happy.

This thinking may seem too linear and there’s obviously some overlap between meaning and happiness, but overall I see meaning as a requirement to finding happiness because having experiences that have meaning, like public service jobs, define who we are. Once we are defined, we’re able to stand on our own two feet, to make sound decisions by weighing the pros and cons, to practice empathy, and to know when to listen and when to talk.

How can we find happiness and do the things we really want if we don’t even know who we are first?

How can we seek out happiness if we first don’t know our own abilities and limits?

These meaningful experiences test our boundaries and let us know how well we function in different situations. And once we establish those boundaries, then we are able to stretch those boundaries with things that make us happy. We test our resiliency and expand our perspectives in hopes of widening those boundaries. We can’t test the strength of our resiliency if we’ve yet to establish the boundaries first.

So perhaps this waiting period is yet another meaningful link in the chain that defines who I am. Waiting requires flexibility and resilience. And if I want to widen my boundaries with things that make my happy as I hope to do, I have to practice these skills now. So yes, I can acknowledge that I’m impatient with the wait, but I also have to practice against the urge.

Supporting Unconditionally

Parents may love unconditionally, but that’s not the same as supporting unconditionally.

It was difficult to get my parents to understand my decision to serve in the Peace Corps. I was actually surprised when they asked me not to do it at first. They had always been on my side, cheering me on. But suddenly, they weren’t. It reminded me of that scene in the movie 10 Things I Hate About You where Mr. Stratford struggles with accepting his daughter’s college choice. Mr. Stratford says to his daughter, Kat:

“Fathers don't like to admit it when their daughters are capable of running their own lives. It means we've become spectators. [Your sister] still lets me play a few innings. You've had me on the bench for years. When you go to [college], I won't even be able to watch the game.” 

Maybe my parents just want to be part of the game. And when I’m in Kenya, they won’t even be able to watch the game. It’s hard to choose what I want when I know my parents may not approve. Yet they still love me.

Once the initial stage of apprehension wore off, my parents transformed into the rooting cheerleaders I remember them to be. They want to be a part of my life whether or not they agree with what they see. I always assumed it was an arduous and dreadful process to forgo personal expectations for the sake of maintaining good relationships, but they’ve showed that it is possible. It’s true they may not support all my decisions. Instead, they support me. So I just wanted to say thanks to my Mom and Dad, the heroes in my life. 

Thanks.

Mental Beasts

I will work at my current job tutoring autistic children for one more month. Although I am very excited to end this chapter of my life, some part of me doesn’t want to leave the job until I’ve transformed into some sort of mental beast. What I’ve learned from tutoring autistic children:

• I am no longer fazed by a crying child
• I’m pretty adept at figuring out why a child is crying (i.e. for attention or to escape a task) 
• Learning how to organize the world of chaos, according to a child, and figuring out what needs to be done, has helped organize my less chaotic life in more meaningful ways 

I used to think children were the scariest kinds of people because they often act on their instincts and sometimes act aggressively when an effective form of communication has not presented itself in times of deep emotion. We are taught to deal with our frustration and anxiety by using our words to express how we feel. Children are still learning how to do this and are, therefore, more prone to reacting physically to their emotions. Learning to interpret physical action as a cry for help or for something else proved challenging my first months on the job. But it did get easier as I learned to understand emotions in terms of pictures, rather than words. Then it was easier to respond to the children once I understood what they were trying to express in their own way.

I would imagine that mental beasts break communication barriers and easily find an access point to channel both what the person is trying to convey and what the mental beast chooses to respond. Though I haven’t yet donned the coveted role of mental beast, I do respond less negatively in times of crisis. But I wonder how much better I’d understand children that have an everyday struggle with expressing themselves if I stayed longer.

Regardless, maybe it’s time for a new struggle. Maybe moving to Kenya will provide me with another awesome opportunity to accept different forms of communication and learn to communicate in response.

Starting Over

I am so excited to start this adventure in Kenya. I want to dive right in. It’s a chance to start over. Many people like the idea of starting over. It’s a chance to redefine who you are and to allow people to define you based on what you choose to convey.

But the downside to the novelty of starting over is chronic dissatisfaction. My biggest fear is getting bored with my job and wanting to escape it. While I think dissatisfaction can be completely normal, chronic dissatisfaction and wanting to escape, instead of fixing the problem, is not.

If the thing to which we’ve committed is not the right fit, that’s one thing. But if we foster this “more, more, more” mentality to infect everyday life, we’d be allowing the loss of novelty to justify our moving on.

So how can I limit my exposure to this disease in Kenya? How can I decrease the probability of burn out when all I want is a different adventure? A friend suggested that every project completed should be celebrated in a big way. Celebrate its success and finality. Basically, she’s saying I should celebrate life, a skill I’ve yet to perfect.

I believe the reward for hard work is more work. But I’ve yet to learn how to do that without experiencing burn out. I fear that more than I fear the unexpected from living in a foreign land. Learning how to incorporate the “more, more, more” curiosity and seeing novelty in perspective rather than in things or places will be my biggest adventure yet.

Three More Months

I have three more months until I leave for Kenya. I’m trying not to get too excited. Sometimes I daydream about potential adventures and notice I’ve already wasted 20 minutes of the day. I have to remember to keep my excitement at bay. Words to live by when faced with new prospects:

It’s a marathon, not a sprint.

If I expend too much energy daydreaming about the Peace Corps, I won’t have any energy left to actually prepare for it. The same goes for any eventuality. If you waste valuable time being anxious or too excited for an upcoming event, you lose the opportunity to live in the present and take advantage of what’s happening now.

I recently met a returned volunteer that served in Africa. Some useful advice:

• Buy a head light to watch out for snakes hiding in the toilet 
• Take prenatal pills (super pills for the undernourished) 
• Avoid a type of malaria medication that induces hallucinations 
• Don’t be an easy target 

And most importantly,

• Your job as a volunteer isn’t to change anyone or anything. Your job is to understand. It is the hope that with mutual understanding and trust, you can eventually help the community you serve.

In A Jane Austen Education, William Deresiewicz says:

“The job of a teacher, I now understood, is neither to affirm your students’ notions nor to fill them with your own. The job is to free them from both.”

Wise words, Mr. D. I hope to overcome the community members’ skepticism of my seemingly neo-colonialist attitude to eventually build a rapport with them. I can’t attempt to serve the community if I don’t understand first. And from experience, mutual understanding often begets mutual trust. And I think that is a pretty good basis for teaching well.