Unfortunately, I have been getting sick a lot lately. At first, I thought it might be allergies since it all started about when spring weather was arriving. However, it has become clear that is not it.
Some of it isn’t really new; since I’ve been in Moldova, my stomach hasn’t felt normal. I definitely don’t get a balanced diet here, many foods aren’t cooked properly, and basic sanitary practices are not followed here. These factors added together result in my stomach never feeling great. I can’t remember the last time my stomach wasn’t bothering me.
The thing is that I got sick in America, too. But somehow, being sick in Moldova is so much worse. My sicknesses aren’t necessarily worse, except for the whole stomach thing; the act of being sick in Moldova is not preferable. I guess being sick any place isn’t preferable. But I’m noticing that I react to “small” illnesses more extremely. For example, if I had a headache when I was working in America, I would drink some water and carry on with my day. But when I get a headache here, I go home as soon as possible, bury my head in my pillow, and try to shut the world out. I guess being away from home and being sick is too much for me. Or I’m just turning into a big baby.
Showing posts with label melodramatic. Show all posts
Showing posts with label melodramatic. Show all posts
Wednesday, April 11, 2012
Tuesday, March 13, 2012
Woes of a Whiny Volunteer
When I started thinking about joining the Peace Corps, I did a lot of research. I talked to many people who had been volunteers, and I read many, many memoirs about volunteers’ experiences. However, whenever I was reading someone’s account of his or her experience, I had to remember that each person’s experience could be vastly different than another’s. Pieces of advice depended greatly on your job and location. Someone’s difficulties in Africa could be the exact opposite problem for someone in South America. However, after reading and hearing many different experiences, there were two things that seemed to be the common problems for most volunteers: loneliness and boredom. Therefore, I tried to prepare myself for these very likely future difficulties.
Loneliness is very easy to understand and quickly experienced. Everyday, I am surround by people of a different culture, which, in some ways, is pretty exciting. But when the stress of this difficult job in a different culture is getting to me, the fact that I’m the only American in a 20 kilometer radius feeling this way makes me feel even lonelier. Not to mention all the cultural and language barriers floating out there. Additionally, I don’t have social life. A lot of my work is done after school hours: planning, making material, typing everything, laminating everything (i.e. using packaging tape), etc. When I was in America, I was active in many activities after work hours. That is not true here. And pretty much any activity I do after work hours could technically be categorized as work. And I miss my family and friends back home, obviously. Anyways, being 5,000 miles away from the people I love the most and the only American in a town with a job that requires me working in my room after school hours and allows no social life results in loneliness.
Boredom, however, is not something that can apply to my situation. Many PCV experiences that I had read talked about having nothing to do when they leave work, and how their “office” cancels work a lot, so they have a lot of time to fill. In my situation, I think it would be more accurate to describe my feeling as restlessness. I feel like I am always working. When I finish my day at school, I come home to the pile of work I need to prepare for school the next day. Most night, I’m not done until 8 or 9 o’clock. I keep waiting for that day when I’m going to get faster at this. But as I start to get faster, I find a way to make something better, which takes more time, and therefore, I’m still working the same length of time. And while I feel like all the work is necessary and well worth (although sometimes I have to remind myself that fact), it can be very difficult working all the time. I’m used to being a busy and active person, but usually my time is filled with multiple things. I had activities I did outside of work, plus (what is now a foreign concept) a social life. Having my all my time filled with one thing is a new concept for me, and I’m not sure I like it very much. Sometimes, I’m so tired that I wish I had never heard so many accounts of PCV needing to find things to fill their free time. It sounds like a luxury I would appreciate.
I mentioned that I’m going to start teaching an adult English class and continue a youth English club. Both of these things seem like the perfect kind of thing I would like. They will be something I enjoy doing, and they will give me a break from my schoolwork. But I must confess, I’m worried about adding one more thing to my full days. Even though I think it will help my mentality, it will not help my constant feeling of restlessness. But I’m hoping that my feeling of restlessness will change to a feeling of vivacity and accomplishment. Here goes it!
Loneliness is very easy to understand and quickly experienced. Everyday, I am surround by people of a different culture, which, in some ways, is pretty exciting. But when the stress of this difficult job in a different culture is getting to me, the fact that I’m the only American in a 20 kilometer radius feeling this way makes me feel even lonelier. Not to mention all the cultural and language barriers floating out there. Additionally, I don’t have social life. A lot of my work is done after school hours: planning, making material, typing everything, laminating everything (i.e. using packaging tape), etc. When I was in America, I was active in many activities after work hours. That is not true here. And pretty much any activity I do after work hours could technically be categorized as work. And I miss my family and friends back home, obviously. Anyways, being 5,000 miles away from the people I love the most and the only American in a town with a job that requires me working in my room after school hours and allows no social life results in loneliness.
Boredom, however, is not something that can apply to my situation. Many PCV experiences that I had read talked about having nothing to do when they leave work, and how their “office” cancels work a lot, so they have a lot of time to fill. In my situation, I think it would be more accurate to describe my feeling as restlessness. I feel like I am always working. When I finish my day at school, I come home to the pile of work I need to prepare for school the next day. Most night, I’m not done until 8 or 9 o’clock. I keep waiting for that day when I’m going to get faster at this. But as I start to get faster, I find a way to make something better, which takes more time, and therefore, I’m still working the same length of time. And while I feel like all the work is necessary and well worth (although sometimes I have to remind myself that fact), it can be very difficult working all the time. I’m used to being a busy and active person, but usually my time is filled with multiple things. I had activities I did outside of work, plus (what is now a foreign concept) a social life. Having my all my time filled with one thing is a new concept for me, and I’m not sure I like it very much. Sometimes, I’m so tired that I wish I had never heard so many accounts of PCV needing to find things to fill their free time. It sounds like a luxury I would appreciate.
I mentioned that I’m going to start teaching an adult English class and continue a youth English club. Both of these things seem like the perfect kind of thing I would like. They will be something I enjoy doing, and they will give me a break from my schoolwork. But I must confess, I’m worried about adding one more thing to my full days. Even though I think it will help my mentality, it will not help my constant feeling of restlessness. But I’m hoping that my feeling of restlessness will change to a feeling of vivacity and accomplishment. Here goes it!
Thursday, October 27, 2011
Ode To Ben and Jerry’s
Today was a particularly difficult day. It’s not like it was really that different from any other crazy day. I think it’s just that I have been trying to not let things bother me that actually do bother me in the long run. All the little things add up. Straw that breaks the camel’s back kind of thing, you know?
All week, I’ve had no idea how long the classes were going to be because they would ring the bells early to end the school day early because the building is too cold. Then today, I tried to play a game of Memory with one of my classes for the first time. But it was a huge headache. The students only know how to behave with lectures. So when I introduce an activity, it can be kind of wild. Then half of my students in my last class were missing (there are only 8 students in the class total).
Usually, I have a lot of patience and stamina for this chaos. I actually am kind of proud of myself because I have become pretty good for letting things roll off my shoulder, which says a lot coming from this slight (okay, more than slight) control-freak. But apparently on my hard days, my newfound maturity and flexibility are out the window, and what is left of Maggie wants to jump out the window. Oh well. I guess I’m bound to have hard days. It’s just difficult having hard days in a foreign country.
When I had a bad day back in the States, I often turned to my good friends, Ben and Jerry. But they don’t have it here. I miss Ben and Jerry’s. They have ice cream here, but most of it is served on a stick. And it’s relatively cheap. It’s not the same. I miss good ice cream.
I went on a mission today after school to find ice cream that wasn’t served on a stick. It took a great deal of searching, but I found some in a carton at last. Unfortunately, there was only one kind, vanilla with caramel swirl. Normally, I need something with chocolate after a day like this. But beggars can’t be choosers. And in my current state, I really don’t care. I’m just happy to be able to eat ice cream with a spoon tonight.
Well, in my misery, I have turned to poetry to express myself. I dedicate this to you, Ben and Jerry, lifelong friends to those in need.
You are the ice cream with much flare.
For your taste I greatly care.
But since I moved to Moldova,
My life’s been all ova’
Since I can’t find you anywhere.
Yes, I realize I’m being a little (okay, more than a little) melodramatic. But can you blame a girl? I mean, I’m in foreign country having a bad day. Add in the fact that I haven’t had Ben and Jerry’s in almost 5 months, not to mention countless other things I miss (ode to Mexican food soon to come). For those who might not know me as well, have no worries. I’ll get my ice cream fix as I watch a sappy romantic comedy and I’ll be back to my semi-mature and capable self. But for now, I will moan and groan and complain.
All week, I’ve had no idea how long the classes were going to be because they would ring the bells early to end the school day early because the building is too cold. Then today, I tried to play a game of Memory with one of my classes for the first time. But it was a huge headache. The students only know how to behave with lectures. So when I introduce an activity, it can be kind of wild. Then half of my students in my last class were missing (there are only 8 students in the class total).
Usually, I have a lot of patience and stamina for this chaos. I actually am kind of proud of myself because I have become pretty good for letting things roll off my shoulder, which says a lot coming from this slight (okay, more than slight) control-freak. But apparently on my hard days, my newfound maturity and flexibility are out the window, and what is left of Maggie wants to jump out the window. Oh well. I guess I’m bound to have hard days. It’s just difficult having hard days in a foreign country.
When I had a bad day back in the States, I often turned to my good friends, Ben and Jerry. But they don’t have it here. I miss Ben and Jerry’s. They have ice cream here, but most of it is served on a stick. And it’s relatively cheap. It’s not the same. I miss good ice cream.
I went on a mission today after school to find ice cream that wasn’t served on a stick. It took a great deal of searching, but I found some in a carton at last. Unfortunately, there was only one kind, vanilla with caramel swirl. Normally, I need something with chocolate after a day like this. But beggars can’t be choosers. And in my current state, I really don’t care. I’m just happy to be able to eat ice cream with a spoon tonight.
Well, in my misery, I have turned to poetry to express myself. I dedicate this to you, Ben and Jerry, lifelong friends to those in need.
You are the ice cream with much flare.
For your taste I greatly care.
But since I moved to Moldova,
My life’s been all ova’
Since I can’t find you anywhere.
Yes, I realize I’m being a little (okay, more than a little) melodramatic. But can you blame a girl? I mean, I’m in foreign country having a bad day. Add in the fact that I haven’t had Ben and Jerry’s in almost 5 months, not to mention countless other things I miss (ode to Mexican food soon to come). For those who might not know me as well, have no worries. I’ll get my ice cream fix as I watch a sappy romantic comedy and I’ll be back to my semi-mature and capable self. But for now, I will moan and groan and complain.
Wednesday, July 13, 2011
Nobody Nose The Troubles I've Seen
Imagine this…you are walking through a garden filled with flowers. There is that clean and fresh scent in the air, evidence of a summer rain that had only happen a couple hours ago. The flowers seem to spray a burst of sweet floral mist as you walk past each kind, and you can’t help but smile at nature’s miracles. There is a small, brick building at the end of the garden. You open the door and a gust of warm summer air hits you.
You breathe in the air and your nose is suddenly filled with the foulest scent you can possibly imagine. You know that if you turn and leave, you won’t have to continue to experience this odor, but there is nowhere else civilized to do your business, so you proceed on into the building. As you shut the door, you take yourself to your happy place to escape the God-forsaken stench that seemed to grow worse at the mere action of closing the door.
As you sit there with your nose in your shirt to dull the smell, you wonder if you would be able to hold your breath during your remaining time in there, knowing full-well it would result in you fainting, making matters worse. When it is time to leave, you walk away from the viceo so quickly that you don’t even have a chance to smell the flowers of the garden you have to walk back through that you were so keen on noticing only moments before.
Okay, so I’m being a little melodramatic. There are a lot of viceos that are way worse than my family’s; in fact, there are viceos that are just holes in the ground (and I know that the title is inaccurate seeing as many others have to use viceos, but I thought it was clever). But there have been times when the smell in the viceo was so awful, I lost my ability to think reasonably and imagined my few minutes in there as such. On the really hot days, the smell is obviously worse. And on the days when it’s cooler from a rainstorm, the floral scent is stronger, making the contrasting scent of the viceo seems worst. One day, it’s bound to be less noticeable, right?
You breathe in the air and your nose is suddenly filled with the foulest scent you can possibly imagine. You know that if you turn and leave, you won’t have to continue to experience this odor, but there is nowhere else civilized to do your business, so you proceed on into the building. As you shut the door, you take yourself to your happy place to escape the God-forsaken stench that seemed to grow worse at the mere action of closing the door.
As you sit there with your nose in your shirt to dull the smell, you wonder if you would be able to hold your breath during your remaining time in there, knowing full-well it would result in you fainting, making matters worse. When it is time to leave, you walk away from the viceo so quickly that you don’t even have a chance to smell the flowers of the garden you have to walk back through that you were so keen on noticing only moments before.
Okay, so I’m being a little melodramatic. There are a lot of viceos that are way worse than my family’s; in fact, there are viceos that are just holes in the ground (and I know that the title is inaccurate seeing as many others have to use viceos, but I thought it was clever). But there have been times when the smell in the viceo was so awful, I lost my ability to think reasonably and imagined my few minutes in there as such. On the really hot days, the smell is obviously worse. And on the days when it’s cooler from a rainstorm, the floral scent is stronger, making the contrasting scent of the viceo seems worst. One day, it’s bound to be less noticeable, right?
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