The last time I was in New Orleans, I stopped in Defend New Orleans (a local brand/advocacy org) and bought two postcards: one says “see you later” with an illustration of an alligator, and the other one has an illustration of a pelican that says “I must be in a good place now.” I brought them with me as a little reminder of one of my favorite cities, but I quickly forgot about them until about a week ago when I found them in my bag.
I have been discouraged lately. Halfway through training I am tired, sweaty, dehydrated, and anxious a lot of the time. I hate relying on my bicycle as my only form of transportation, and I hate barely having any control over where I go and when I go there. Every hour of every day is scheduled for me, until sundown, when I have to be home for the rest of the night. I have Saturday afternoons and Sundays off, but neither are particularly relaxing as they are usually spent doing things other than training—like laundry, swimming, lesson planning, and the occasional temple visit. Is much of my free time here fun? Yes. Is it relaxing? No. I feel like I haven’t unclenched my muscles in weeks. Even if I have a Sunday with nothing scheduled, I have to find a relatively cool place to sit in my house while my host mom and grandpa hang out—I am never left truly alone. The neighbor kids see me roll in and yell “KAT!!!” and I play with them—whether I’m in the mood to or not. There’s not even anywhere I can go to be alone. Going from living independently in New York to a host family in a pretty collectivist culture is like emerging from the fortress of solitude into the Mall of America. I know I’ll adjust, but I’m not sure I’ll ever understand the lack of alone time people have here.
Last week was full of breakdowns. I didn’t get enough sleep, and biking 9k against the wind in midday sun for 3 days out of the week resulted in a lot of crying on a bike. Biking 8k during the hottest part of the day on a 100 degree day with 40% humidity also resulted in crying on a bike. One day, I didn’t lesson plan well enough and had to scramble for activities for my class to do for the last 30 minutes, and a lot of people I knew got food-borne illnesses (which if you know me, you know that that’s usually the straw that breaks the camel’s back). That was a hard day. Then I got flustered in a review when they asked me what my strengths are and I said “that’s a hard question.” My boss said “really??” and it spiraled from there. I got a lower score than I was expecting on my language proficiency interview, and I was placed in a lower-level language group because of it. I’ve been exhausted, unprepared, and totally unsure of myself. I’ve felt like there’s no way my kids will like the lesson I have planned, and I’ve felt like I’m going to positively combust with anxiety.
But with the downs, come the ups. My new language class is going well, and I know that I’m progressing because I’m able to have longer conversations with my host family now—no matter what my LPI score may have said. Valentine’s day came and went at my school, with kids plastering us with stickers and giving us little roses, and I got a hug and an “I love P Kat” from one of my quieter students. I got very positive feedback in my midterm progress review (the constructive criticism being that I’m too expressive), and I have good relationships with my fellow trainees, teachers, and managers. Everything is an adjustment, and when I was down last week—contemplating if I’m really cut out for this—I found myself feeling better after I interacted with my students. That showed me more than anything else that I needed a reminder about why I’m here: to work. It’s been wonderful learning so much and gaining new friends in such a short time, but when I was obsessing about the things that I disliked (really just the bike commute), it was my work that reminded me how much I enjoy what I’m going to be doing for the next two years. I’ve also been dating another volunteer here and having him around definitely helps when I’m feeling down about anything (the bike ride—it’s always the bike ride).
Everything is an adjustment, and although I still don’t love taking 45 minutes out of my lunch to ride 9k to school, I’ve accepted it this week and I don’t hate it anymore. A lot of my bike rides are pretty nice, and tonight I rode home after riding with my mai-sabai (in Thai this means sick) boyfriend back to his house at dusk. The sunset was so beautiful and serene over the rice fields in the wind that I stopped and marveled at the view for the first time in a very long time. I put on “Sunshine” by Atmosphere for the rest of the ride home, and a lot of it has been resonating with me as I come out of my mid-PST slump. The song is talking about a day that starts on a bad note, that gets increasingly better as he leaves his house and rides a bike around his neighborhood. He says “If I could, I would keep this feeling in a plastic jar” and “every day that gets to pass is a success, along with a bunch of other things that make me feel like a bad day can always get better (“never really seen exercise as friendly, but I think somethin’s telling me to ride that 10 speed” is particularly spot on).
Last weekend, we had a massive storm. It was pouring with gale-force winds for about 30 minutes, and then it just… stopped. What emerged was a beautiful sunny day with an aggressively pleasant breeze. I spent some time playing with my 3 year old neighbor who is still a little wary of this tall, pale farang in her aunt’s house. My family was busy and I was left truly alone for the first time in this entire experience, and today, I unclenched. I rode my bike through rice fields with a cool (read: 85 degree) breeze helping me along, and a muddy happy dog trotted past me. I got to just lie down without anyone knocking on my door or caring what I was doing. My friends who run the convenience store in town gave me kanoms (Thai sweets) for no good reason, and I listened to the chillest music I have. My boyfriend was better and we got to hang out and do nothing together for most of the day—it was just a pretty endless stream of good things. I have had plenty of hard days, I’ve even had a hard week or two, but I am continuously reminded why I’m happy to be here. It’s hard not to think: “I must be in a good place now.”
Recommended listening: Sunshine- Atmosphere
