me

At some point earlier this year, I started writing about things that didn’t necessarily pertain directly to me. Clearly, everything I write about is at least of interest to me, but I found myself more excited about more general topics (i.e. Haitian agriculture or the earthquake response) than about things that were happening in my life each day. This certainly had a lot to do with the fact that, as I wrote about, I felt like I was in a bit of a slump - I was bored.

Well, here I am, two-and-a-half months after I arrived in Haiti, and I'm once again interested in turning inward. What brought about this sudden wave of Narcissism? Simply put, I'm overwhelmed and I'm having a hard time.

A good friend of mine recently began a stint with Peace Corps in Senegal, and I've enjoyed reading her blog and reflecting on the similar feelings I had at the beginning of my Dominican Republic experience. Cultural mishaps, the struggles with the language, a general what-the-hell-am-I-doing-here-and-what-did-I-get-myself-into feeling. Of course, part of my enjoyment stemmed from the fact that I was so over those things, and that I had everything figured out. It wasn't that I no longer found my little cultural speed bumps to be blog-worthy - they simply weren't happening! I was, in good dominicano, aplatana'o (plantained, Dominican).

Well, those proverbial chickens have sprinted home to roost. I, once again, am wandering a foreign landscape with about as much savvy as your average street dog: I know how to not get hit by cars and I'm fairly adept at scaring up my next meal. I should probably give myself more credit than that, considering that I do have a job and am picking up Kreyòl more quickly than most of the street dogs I've met, but each day feels like an uphill battle.

It's like Peace Corps training all over again, with one enormous difference. Here, I'm doing this by myself. As suffocating as training was in the Dominican Republic, there was a countrywide support system of fellow trainees, volunteers, and staff, all ready to help me succeed. Not to mention I was already quite proficient in Spanish before I got there.

As I've mentioned, Kreyòl has tons of great proverbs. I think my favorite is this one: yon sèl dwet pa manje kalalou. Literally, it says this: one sole finger doesn't eat okra. Now, I know there are a ton of professional okra eaters out there, and I'm sure you are aware that okra is quite slippery. Well, the Haitian that came up with this proverb knew the same thing, and he or she realized the implications that the slimy veggie had toward life in general. That person knew that tasks are mostly easily accomplished when people work together, just as okra is most easily eaten when at least two fingers are used to snatch it up.

I miss the support system. I've met some cool people here, but it's a completely different vibe that what I experienced nearly three years ago when I got to the D.R. And, as quickly as the language is coming, I just haven't reached a level of proficiency conducive to a good talk with my Haitian friends about how I'm feeling.

A little bit of a challenge never hurt anyone too badly, though. Things will come along, as they always do. In the mean time, it's time for dinner. Must be all this okra talk.