Squirmy wirmy or the case of the carnivorous ants

OK that is just a cute title to describe a phenomena that I am fascinated by! In America, I only ever saw ants attack human food. In Uganda, if I squish a bug and leave it on the floor, minutes later a swarm of ants is surrounding it and moving it! I had no idea ants were carnivorous!

So now to try to relate this to my life at the moment, I am feeling squirmy. While I have had many many many emotions the past two weeks I think I am still going to classify it as a honeymoon period. Everything was new and exciting. Going on runs and saying hi to people made me smile and I was still excited by how excited everyone was to see me. This week, not so much. I am having the “zoo animal” phenomena. I go to school and when I’m not observing classes or assessing children I sit in a classroom and read. The children have started sneaking out of class and poking their heads in the window saying my Uganda name over and over again. Sounds adorable, right? But not when they won’t go away and not when they are grabbing my hair through the window. Then I go home, and they poke their heads through the windows at my house. Then I go on a run and they follow me. I know, none of this is meant to be offensive or with bad intentions. I know they are just curious and very excited that I am here. I also can only barely imagine or empathize as to how strange I must seem to them. I was raised with the privileges of great schools with lots of textbooks teaching me about the different people of the world. I have parents who were very intentional about respecting people for their differences. These children are growing up in a much different environment. It astounds me that things can be so different on the same planet, but I guess that is the beauty right? At the moment, I can just barely wrap my head around it.

So back to the squirmy worms. On Tuesday, I was not nearly as calm about the attention and just wanted to hide under a rock, and that’s what I did. Came home and hid at my sight mates house and watched a movie. I’m not saying that was the right thing to do, but I did it. As I said, I feel yet another honeymoon is over and now I’m wanting to squirm and wiggle away from the discomfort. There are plenty of ways I could distract myself during my time here. I could spend all my time watching movies and TV shows. I could find someone and decide I am going to live my service for them, that my job is to help them. I could focus on things I know I will be successful at instead of trying things where I might fail. But I don’t want to do that. I want to live this service to the greatest extent. So it will be stinking uncomfortable but here we go.

I guess another thing I have to own up to is that even if I do distract myself as much as possible, there is still one thing I will not be able to ignore. Every minute, of every day, I am the outsider here. This is the first time in my life that I’ve been the outsider. This is the first time that I am the other. That what I consider normal behavior is seen as strange. And even if I change everything about the way I live my life and live it exactly as my Ugandan neighbors do, there will still be one big thing that makes me different and will always make me different. That thing is also the reason why I lived such a privileged life. My parents worked hard to give me this life, but our skin color is still a huge part of that equation. So how do I cope with that? I know I am having an invaluable experience learning what it feels like to be an outsider, but how do I use this discomfort to learn? To teach? To grow? I feel this will be two years of exploration about skin color. More thoughts to come.

So what does this mean for my service? I want to fit in, to belong, to find my place. Someone once told me that peace corps is about being displaced. Then someone else mentioned on facebook the other day that when you are displaced, you get the chance to not only find “a” path, but to find “your” path. I have spent my life letting the other people in my life help me define my path. I have loved living my life for other people. Now I am here and I am waiting for other people to help me define my path. If I keep up this waiting, I could be waiting for the entire two years of my service. It is time. I have to stop squirming away from the fear of failing and jump in. I feel I have been sitting in the shallow end of the pool waiting to adjust to the water temperature and now, even though it is nice and comfortable to sit in the shallow end, it’s time to swim to the deep end. I’m afraid that there are crocodiles in the deep end waiting to snap my toes and bring me down. I know that there will be nets and those annoying buoy rope things that will get in my way. But I have to risk the crocodiles and find a way to work through, around, and over top of the obstacles.

Going for a run in the village

It starts out my back door around 17:30 p.m. Greetings to my neighbors responded with “Are you going for exercise?” Why yes I am because white people are weird and because I’m still trying to lose the weight I gained form drinking all those margaritas last year. They thank me for my work. I smile and take off. Up a hill, get the heart rate going, exhale ferociously as I pass the college, which for now is empty. Catch my breath enough to yell out greetings and thank you’s to the people outside of their houses as I run through Kabukunge village. The children run out and I smile as they call my name, smile even bigger as they call me “singa” or auntie, and no longer call me mazungu. I reach the first fork and branch to the left and now I am alone. Heading east, the sun setting behind me, I run through the corn fields and stare up at the hills and think “Thank god this path exists.” I pass a few more small houses, say hello to those sitting outside then round a corner to the subtle uphill that lasts just a little too long. It is on this part that I wish things we’re just a little easier. Maybe flatter? Or maybe even steeper, but shorter? But no it continues and I breathe in more air so I have more to give. Breathe in more air, so I have more to give. Catch a wiff of a blooming coffee plant and remember that I had no idea coffee plants smell like 10,000 honesuckle plants squished into a mason jar. Magnificent. I see the end and I make myself go faster. I turn left and now I’m headed north. The path evens out. The sun is setting on my left. I pass two houses where the families no longer laugh at the absurdity but smile at the mazungu who runs by and gasps hello. Past one more house and then the spot where I make myself stop. The spot where it would be easier to pass right through, miss it, continue on and get this run over with. But the spot where I stop, look at the setting sun and the hills. Those hills. Don’t waste an ounce of this. Continue on. Down hill, paved road now. Into the trading center. Say hello to the duka ladies. Decide to cross the street instead of turning to go home. The road turns and now I’m running west. Into the sun. Up another annoying “gentle” incline. Why did I do this? Why did I continue on? Because I don’t want this to be over. There is more to be had. Turn to the left again and now heading south. Those hills again! Meet up with the road, down the hill to home. Up the hill to the campus. Sit on the hill to watch the sunset over the papyrus swamp. I’m a sucker for a good sunset.

Mpola mpola mpola mpola mpola mpola mpola (Slowly slowly slowly slowly slowly )

The weirdest thing happened! I googled “overwhelmed” and my picture came up with a weird post about how you might be aware of your personality and qualities but Peace Corps is going to force you to rethink everything you thought you knew and with perseverance, patience, passion fruit and laying on the mattress on your floor, you will relearn how to function.

Two weeks at site and first week of school finished. Ups and downs, let me tell you! School in Uganda begins very differently than school in America. The first day, about 10% of the pupils showed up and they spent the day cleaning the classrooms and the compound while the teachers stood around, speaking completely in luganda and watched. The following days the teachers began teaching but this is when I realized my school does not have enough teachers for the pupils. They invited me to teach but then I had to explain that peace corps has a separate program for me and I will not be teaching in a classroom. They smiled to hide their confusion and let me just observe and sit in an empty classroom feeling awkward about what to do with myself. My headmistress was very busy all week collecting school fees and enrolling children. I tried to catch her to ask if there was going to be a staff meeting or if she and I could meet to discuss my role and she would respond “not until after the transfers” then walk away.

What are transfers you ask? The Ugandan Ministry of Education waits until after the term has started to transfer staff members around the district. Any minute, any number of teachers could receive a piece of paper that says “hey, your entire life moves to here, tomorrow.” There are rumors about who will be transferred from my school- most likely the two male teachers that are my neighbors, have been at the school the longest, and are the most incredible teachers in the school. But nothing has been verified so everyone is holding their breath. The tension and anxiety is palpable but no one is talking about it. Emotions are not discussed in Uganda. Then not only are we probably losing the two best teachers but there is no concrete date when we will receive new teachers to replace them.

So my observations from this week? Things move slow. Very very slow. So that means everything in the future will move very slow. Much slower than I anticipated. I had planned to sprint to get my house set up decorated and organized. Didn’t happen. To get any furniture or paint for my house I have to travel 40 minutes and spend a lot of money. So what have I learned? I can be happy with having just a mattress in my living room to sit on! It is actually really calming! And old desks make great counter tops for a kitchen! All you really need is a jerry can for water and basin to bathe in. My bed is nice too! Uganda is making me slow down, and chill out. Whether I like it or not.

So back to site, I felt so uncomfortable walking into this school that did not have their basic needs for teachers met and saying “lets talk about literacy!” I felt so guilty having these teachers ask me to teach and me having to say no while the children sat in classrooms and stared at empty walls. We were trained in so many creative teaching techniques that all require resources like posters or markers. My school barely has chalk. I asked the deputy head teacher what she wanted for the school and she responded books, teachers, and money. I could raise money for all of those things. But would they fix this huge problem? No, it would be a band aid. I could go in teaching right away, but about when I leave in two years? Then the school will just become dependent on an unpaid volunteer that then leaves. And what about me leaving in two years? What is really going to get accomplished?

Okay, hello overthinking machine! Where the heck is the off switch? O yea, it’s coming home and watching Gilmore Girls and taking a nap. It’s acknowledging that I am living in a brand new country, adjusting to a completely new house, and a completely new job and a language I understand about 4%. It’s acknowledging that little things like bathing, going on a walk, saying hello to my neighbors, letting myself relax, are big accomplishments. It’s realizing that keeping myself busy and doing lots of little things so I distract myself and feel productive is not the same as taking care of myself. It’s realizing that I do not always have to be productive.

So back to how things move slow. Development, improvement, will move very slow. My project at my school will move very slow. And that is ok. There is no one saying I need to be accomplishing or implementing huge projects right now. And even if I was, I can almost count on the project failing. I know that right now, the important thing is to build the relationship with my school. To explain to the teachers why I am here. To advocate for a time to meet with the staff during lunch. To explain to the staff that I will have them over for tea once I have a table and chairs and not just a mattress. And it is ok. I am still a successful volunteer! Things will happen. They might be so little, but they will still be important and they will still happen. And this literacy stuff? Might actually help. Hopefully the students will improve, just a little, or at least just begin to have fun at school. Hopefully the teachers can learn new ways to teach that is actually easier and more affective. Hopefully all of that can continue after I leave.

So for now, I am slowing down. And I like it. I am amazed every day at how much I’m learning and adjusting in just this short time. I am making sure to take an hour or two every day to unwind that way I don’t overload the next day. I’m not distracting myself from the discomfort but instead sitting in it. Really feeling it. Letting it teach me what it means to be displaced. Then growing through that displacement, finding my place, finding my home, what an invaluable lesson and experience.

So to summarize the whirlwind of endless thoughts of this past week, I finally let go of the paralyzing fear that I’m going to be a bad volunteer. I also accepted the fact that things move really really really slow and that being productive is going to look very different in this country. I knew that I got overwhelmed easily but I’ve learned that I have to manage it much differently in this country. In the states, I would keep myself busy and do lots of productive things to distract myself. When I did that here, I ended up more overwhelmed because I didn’t give myself time to relax. Alaina told me the things I needed to hear- you don’t always have to be productive. I’m realizing that being productive at my school is not an option yet. So it is all coming together- things move slow so I have lots of time to relax and this wonderful chance for self-discovery. And while I still feel a little guilty about that, I’m managing that too. I’m letting the guilt remind me that I care and that since I care, I will be an amazing volunteer. I’m also reminding myself that more I learn and grow, the more effective I can be. I can find the way to best help my school and myself. And even if it is very little, any little help, any relationship built, are huge successes.