Not quite a week, but I think Sundays will be a great day to reflect on my weeks and write a blog. Therefore, it is my goal to post a blog each week on Sunday (we'll see how that goes; it could definitely change in a few months).
I'm sitting on the front porch of my host mom's house listening to the "Michigan" album by Sufjan Stevens. It's been five days, but it feels like a year has passed already. Time passes differently here. When I studied abroad in South Africa in 2015, I found this to be true, as well. Things move slower, the sense of urgency disappears, and while I've had quite the to-do list I find myself with more time dedicated to building relationships, instead of simply accomplishing tasks.
My last weekend in Michigan was everything I needed it to be: foggy, cold, and full of love from remarkably special people. Not to mention Michigan beer, Tacos el Cuñado take-out, and all of the vegan food I could manage to put in my mouth.
My week since then has been the strangest series of ups and downs, starting with delayed flights to DC and ending with a meltdown after leaving Albrook Mall yesterday. There are so many emotions that I'm feeling so fully right now, both positive and negative. I've had some absolutely serene and hilarious moments, but arguably more moments of intense frustration and sadness. When I experience discomfort or hardship, my mantra has always been: "I can do (activity) for (amount of time)." For example, when I was in Colorado in 2016: "I can go without a shower for a week, it's only a week!" Or, when I go to the gym: "I can push through a workout for an hour; it's only an hour!"
That technique doesn't work so well when you're suddenly confronted with: "I can do this for 27 months; it's only 27 months." And maybe it is only 27 months, an arguably short amount of time in the grand scheme of my life. But right now, after spending a week feeling isolated because of language barriers and placing a huge filter over my mouth and actions, I'm exhausted, and 27 months feels nearly impossible.
Currently I am in Pre-Service Training (PST), which consists of 10 weeks of pretty intense language, cultural, and technical training. During this time, volunteers live with host families in training communities and spend their time in classes, on excursions, and in the Peace Corps office. Some highlights of my first week of PST are as follows:
1. Realizing that I'm picking up more Spanish every single day, even after only 5 days.
2. Finding myself writing/saying/thinking random words in Spanish, rather than in English.
3. Making friends with some of the volunteers serving in my cohort (Group 82 in Panama).
4. Lots of yucca, corn, and potatoes (I love starch)!
5. Learning to love my host mom (Mábel).
6. Having a really great interview with Francisco, the Director of the Community Environmental Conservation program in Panama (basically my boss for CEC work).
While I've had some great high points, the lows are more frequent. Most of it comes from me feeling like I can't be my authentic self here, and it's proving to be a huge source of stress and upset. I can't properly articulate my thoughts and feelings, so I often feel stupid. I'm unable to speak candidly about specific subjects. I can't have a beer when I come home from a particularly stressful activity, or just to enjoy socially. It's hard to abide by my moral compass when it comes to consumption because there aren't as many ethical options when it comes to making purchases. And who would I be, to show up here, and expect that my privileges would be preserved? I knew all of this was coming, but I'm finding it harder to manage than I originally thought.
I tend to overestimate my ability to do things, but so far in my life, I've always been able to wing it and pull things off. My Peace Corps Service is a whole new monster though. While I'm excited to be here, making some friends, and looking forward to doing projects, the time frame has become terrifying. I didn't realize how quickly I would begin to miss home, miss my people, and grow skeptical of my purpose here. It might be silly to think this way, as it has only been 5 days. However, feelings often magnify with time and distance.
It is my sincere hope that as I learn more language and cultural skills, acclimate to my routine, and get used to the lifestyle and expectations here, I am able to navigate negative situations and feelings better. It's been hard so far; exceedingly more difficult the more time that I have to spend surrounded by people I don't yet know well. At this point, the goal is to keep my head up, my mind open, and my body well cared-for, while taking everything with a sizable grain of salt.
This evening, the goal is to do yoga, eat dinner, and mentally prepare for 20+ hours of language training this week (during which I will have a bewildered look of confusion and irritation on my face).
This is definitely my biggest adventure yet, and the curviest learning curve I've encountered.
Here's to another week of giving it my best.
Here's a picture of the Panama Canal, for fun (I drive over it every time we had into the city):
