Handling Loneliness and Annoyances

FYI, Lew is a new volunteer serving in Macedonia.  He’s been stalking my blog (in a good way) since he started the PC application process.  I did the same thing to a few people as I was waiting and trying to get mentally prepared. 

In response to my recent post asking if anyone wanted to hear about anything in particular, Lew wrote “…write about how you cope with the annoyances and the lonely times that come your way.” 

First, how I deal with annoyances.  Not well, unfortunately.  Mostly I get cranky, bitchy, impatient and just plain testy.  I’ve never dealt well with annoyances or people I find annoying.  That’s a character flaw that I thought my PC experience might help me with. 

I’m not sure why I thought that leaving all the comforts of home where I found annoyances so, well, annoying, that I dreamed that when I was sweaty, covered in flies and bug bites and doing laundry in a bucket that I’d cope so much better.  I was trying to channel Mother Theresa, I suppose.  Personally, I bet that for all the good work she did, she had the occasional human moment when things got to her.  At least I hope she did, since her situation was ever so much harder than mine and when I get cranky over small annoyances I feel like a failure.

I do work on coping better.  Every day.  I try to look at the upside or at least the funny side of things.

I worked on a heinous project once.  It was the most stressful, exhausting work I’ve ever done.  Lucrative but horrible.  At the end of each day (usually around midnight) the project manager asked us for the funniest moment of the day.  In our exhausted, cranky states we each offered up tidbits.  Most of the humor was very dark.  It got us through the day, though, because when something absolutely ludicrous was happening we could step back to store it as a possible winner in that night’s “funniest moment” contest.

I try to do the same thing.  What’s the humor in this?  How can I turn this from annoying into fun?  “Ha!  You may be really pissing me off but you’re fodder for my blog, you big poopyhead!” 

I’ve preached for years that life is all about choice.  I can choose to react to a situation by getting annoyed or I can look at the upside.  Have to wait in the rain for an hour for a bus?  What a great time to practice my Samoan and meet some new people.  That’s what I try to do.  Unfortunately, sometimes before I consciously make a decision to be Sally Sunshine, my natural instinct causes me to just hunker down and feel sorry for myself. 

When that happens, I try to forgive myself.  I also ask others to forgive me.  A huge difference in cultures between the USA and Samoa is the view on apologies.  Samoans apologize for everything.  Actually, sometimes it can get annoying.  I’ve been told I needed to apologize for something that I had no part in, just observed.  “Wah?  Huh?  Me?  Apologize?  For what?  I didn’t DO anything!” 

Like many Americans, I have a very well developed sense of fairness.  What is right and what is wrong.  If something is not my fault I’d rather eat a plate full of cold, greasy tinned corned beef than say “I’m sorry.”  I’ve learned that saying I’m sorry, quickly and as sincerely as possible can help smooth things over.  “I’m so sorry my foot was right where you wanted to drop that 50 lb. box of corned beef. Let me just move my bloody stump for you.”  Okay, I’m not quite as sarcastic when I say it, but just thinking it that way makes me chuckle and gets me over the annoyance.  Plus, it usually generates a return apology which mollifies my sense of fairness.

I also count to ten, count my blessings and try to think how lucky I am.  Yes, I am waiting an hour in the rain but at least I don’t have to hoof it 10 miles home.  Sooner or later the bus will come.  And luckily, since I’m a natural beauty, I look splendid soaking wet.  I also try to mentally exaggerate whatever I’m annoyed with, sort of like the adult version of “If you want something to cry about, I’ll give you something!”   I think of how much worse it could possibly be until I feel so ridiculous about being annoyed I have to laugh.

Moving on to loneliness.  I enjoy time alone.  That’s actually a bit of an understatement.  I almost married a man once who commented on my extraordinary need for “space”, both physical and psychic.  It’s ironic that I was sent to a culture who finds being alone not just unpleasant but downright creepy.  I’ve been asked to sit at the bus stop with a teacher so she didn’t have to sit alone for ten minutes.  She didn’t want to talk, just didn’t want to be alone.  You know, there, in the sunshine on the beach.

One of the things that has helped me enormously is packages from friends and strangers.  Going to the post office and seeing a box or letter with my name on it is a treat.  Getting home and ripping it open is like Christmas.  And the gifts keep on giving.  This week I’ve used a pocket pack of tissues and hand sanitizer from one friend.  I just took a shower with lavender soap from another friend.  She also sent some great cookies from Trader Joe that I’ve been enjoying with my tea each evening.  And dinner last night, which turned into leftovers shared with my teachers for lunch, featured dehydrated green chiles sent from an RPCV who served in Samoa.

Every time I use something that someone sent me, it reminds me of them and fills me with the warmth of their positive energy and love.  That holds loneliness at bay and reduces the size of most annoyances.

I love to read and would rather spend time with a bad book than a boring person.  I enjoy putzing around my house.  I spend quite a bit of time cooking and planning meals.  I play with the dog.  When I’m feeling down I find a baby or some kids to play with.  Or a baby anything – puppy, kitten, pig.  They all brighten my spirits.

I’ve found here (much like at home) I’m loneliest when I’m with other people.  For example, yesterday my teachers decided to stay after school to share some rice and sardines.  I was ready to head out but it would have been rude.  So I ate a bit of food, even though I wasn’t hungry.  I sat patiently as they talked and laughed and ignored me.  It made me lonely and sad.  The teachers don’t understand that.  To them, I’m in the room so I’m part of the “family”.  They forget that when they go into full-on K language at full speed my language skills can’t keep up.  I don’t blame them.  They’re stuck with me for 2 years and they’re usually patient about making sure I have a clue what’s going on but sometimes they just want to relax and talk and laugh without having to play interpreter.  But it still makes me feel lonely.

Sometimes even when I do understand what is being said I feel lonely because our views on the world can be so different.  Samoan humor is very different than American humor.  We are at opposite ends of the politically correct spectrum.  I want people to get my jokes.  I want people to say things I find funny and not hurtful.  It feels lonely when I feel like there’s all of them and … and then there’s me.

When I first arrived I frequently felt lonely after calling home.  Ironic, eh?  Instead of being comforting, it made me want to hop on the next plane.  That’s eased as time has passed.  I still miss the people I love, but this is home now, too.

I’ve described what makes me feel lonely.  How do I cope?  I assume good intent.  They are not blocking me out.  It’s just what happens when there’s a language/culture barrier.   I promise myself a good cry later, when I’m alone.   I think about all the times when we’ve laughed together at things we all understand and that hit everyone’s funny bone the right way.

I recently read in a PCV blog some words of wisdom.  I wish I could remember the name of the volunteer.  I’m going to do a bad job of paraphrasing, but basically what he said was that after a year he’d accomplished what he came to do – have an adventure, learn a new language, experience another culture, see a new part of the world.  He was ready to go home.  But he signed on for two years and the second year is when he’s serving. 

I feel very much the same.  I feel like I’ve gotten what I came for.  But it’s not time to go, I promised to serve in the Peace Corps for two years.  I didn’t sign up for a vacation or be catered to or have a walk in the park.  Sometimes, annoyances and loneliness are part of the price of serving.  For me, they’re a very small price, given all I’ve received.  And heck, I had annoyances and loneliness at times at home, too.  At least here I’ve got the most beautiful view on earth to enjoy while I whine to myself.

Rain!

Plans for the ark are currently on hold.  I’m very happy to report that after a mostly-rainy day, it is now just breezy and overcast.  There appears to be a storm brewing on the horizon but that’s typical for this time of day.  It is the rainy season, after all.

My thoughts are with the people, especially the PCVs, of Vanuatu.  The cyclone that veered away from us and just gave us lots of rain and some heavy winds is heading to them.  According to the Australian radio station I listen to, they’re expecting 140 kph winds and quite a bit of damage.  NGOs in Vanuatu and Australia are gearing up to be prepared.  Over 100 residents have been evacuated.  I don’t know if that includes the volunteers.

I’ve been in 4 hurricanes.  That was in a sturdy house with lots of emergency personnel nearby.  Still scared the bejeebers out of me.  Until you’ve witnessed 90 mph winds and had to go out in them to lower the level of your pool to keep it from overflowing into the house, it’s hard to understand how intense it is.   Let’s pray that this cyclone and any others coming are more bark than bite and do minimal damage.

For me, my roof repairs seem to have done the trick and my kitchen floor is now almost dry.  Life is good.  I hope the folks in Vanuatu are saying the same thing tomorrow.

I Choose the Bright Side

The rain has continued.  Unrelenting, all night.  The wind has stopped, which is great.  But the rain has not.  The 2x4’s in my kitchen ceiling are now so saturated, I can’t put a pan to catch the drips.  They drip the length of the room.  There were large puddles all over the floor when I woke up.  What ceiling I do have has begun to ripple and bow from water weight.  Just a matter of time until it soaks through and collapses.  It’s currently furry with mold.

My clothes have been languishing in a bucket of soapy water for two days.  I need to do something about that or they’ll be moldy, too.  And to top off my morning, as I sat down on my bed to type this, one of the damn wooden slats that make up my bed, fell to the floor, leaving a gap where my butt usually resides.  Clearly a message that it was tired of my big ass.

I can either focus on the water torture and go to school in a pissy mood or I can choose the bright side.  Even though the sun is nowhere in sight, I know there is a bright side.  So here we go.

I don’t have to wonder where my dog is.  I can smell him coming.  Wet dog smell is universal.

It’s cooler when it rains.  I didn’t use my fan at all last night.

I can be even less concerned than usual about my hair before school, since it will be wet by the time I get there.  I read an old magazine last night that a friend gave me for school (to use for pictures).  They said the tousled look is in.  Just let your hair air dry (that could be an issue), then tousle with your fingers.  My style is in.

All this moisture HAS to be good for my dry, wrinkly skin.  I should look dewy fresh and only 22 by the time this rain is done.

It could be snow.

Soon, I may be able to fish from my front porch.

I have an indoor bathroom.  I have to walk across a damp floor to get to it, but I don’t get rained on in the process.  Dripped on but not rained on.

My bed isn’t permanently broken, just a pain in the neck to get the board back in place and my family will cheerfully help.

The wind is gone and my roof didn’t blow to Kansas.

I get to teach today.  Up until now, it’s been preparing the rooms, teachers planning/drinking tea and doing attendance stuff.  Today I get to do an actual lesson.

 The rain, oddly, still seems to be holding the mosquitoes at bay.  I would think just the opposite but am not going to question a miracle of nature that works in my favor.

Last, but not least.  It will stop.  Sooner or later.  Or, I’ll have to learn what a cubit is and build an ark.  There will be chickens and pigs and dogs and cats and geckos and…the ants and spiders better know how to swim.

The Rain, The Rain

A shot of our new church in Lu'ua - about a ten minute walk from my house.  One of the nicest churches I've seen in Samoa.  I was early - there were about 100 people at the service.

I went to church on Sunday.  I walked there and back in sunshine and sweat.  The phrase “sweating like a whore in church" came to mind but seems inappropriate, me living a sort of nun-like existence.  Anyway, not a breeze stirring.  Within a couple of hours, though, the rains came.  And continued.  Monday it rained.  Monday afternoon heavy winds joined the downpours.

Last night was the worst weather I’ve seen since I arrived in Samoa.  I have 10 windows in my house.  9 in the main room and a small one in the bathroom.  Three of the windows have no glass.  The remaining have jalousie windows.  I can easily explain why they are no longer used in Florida, where they used to be very popular.  They leak.  Air and water.  You can “close” them, but they never close all the way so when wind is blowing the rain sideways, it comes in the house.

The rain not only came in through the windows, it came in by the bucketful from the leaky roof.  I put a soup pot under the largest leak and had to empty it every half hour or so.  I decided to just enjoy the cooler air and let the water come in, since there wasn’t much I could do about it anyway.  I curled up on my bed with my laptop and the complete DVD pack of a season of Grey’s Anatomy.  I was going to McImagine I was with McDreamy in Seattle.

My curtains were blowing sideways into the room, which was no big deal until it was time for bed.  The head of my bed lies under two windows.  Every time the curtains blew in, they rubbed against me.  I’m not an idiot, so I got up and tied them into a knot to keep them from blowing on me.  That worked swell until the knots blew out because of the force of the wind.  Then they’d blow against me again. 

Since I discovered signs the other day that a new rat has taken up residence and has been hanging out near my bed, every time a curtain would brush up against me, I awoke thinking “Rat!  Giant ass rat rubbing up against my face!”  Then I’d realize it was just the curtain and would try to relax back into sleep. 

The biggest sleep disturber, though, was the sound of banging coming from my bathroom.  I went in and stood there, trying to figure out where it was coming from.  Then I saw the roof move.  Now, I’m no engineer, but I think it’s probably not a good thing to have your tin roof flapping like it’s waving goodbye.

I realized the problem was that they had not put nails to hold the roof in place close enough to the walls, so whenever a gust of wind got under it, it flapped.  And in flapping, was beginning to pull out the existing nails.

I thought about that for a minute and then crawled back into bed.  Then I lay there for awhile, brushing the curtains off of me, considering what I’d do if the roof blew off.  I didn’t come up with any great ideas so I just rolled off and went back to sleep.

Now it’s Tuesday night and it’s still raining, but there’s minimal wind and the rain is just a shower not a freaking waterfall.   My brother came over and climbed onto the roof to hammer in some more nails.  I’m hoping we’re good to go.  I still am not sure what I’d do if the roof blows off.  I suspect there would be tears involved and a lot of swearing.

Exciting Shower

The other night I was following my typical evening routine.  Skin a piece of chicken and throw the skin to the dogs and the leg/thigh into a frying pan to start cooking.  Then into the shower.  Hardly worth writing about but that night was a bit more exciting than usual.

It was a hot, humid evening and the cold water felt good.   I’d just soaped myself up when the water stopped.  Hmm, what’s a soapy, naked palagi to do?   Usually when the water stops it’s because the pipe is broken.  Most often by a pig or member of my family stepping on the pipe, which is more exposed than buried.

Several of my brothers and their friends were making a fire for the saka and the umu and just generally chilling.  All within about ten feet of my shower.  I could yell to get their attention.  I thought I heard the sound of gushing water just outside my bathroom, so assumed that’s where the pipe was broken.  Maybe they’d notice?

I stood there, dripping suds and trying to figure out how to say “Hey, the pipe broke and I have no water and I’m in the middle of my shower.”  As I stood there thinking about the best plan of action, I heard laughing and some commotion next to my shower wall.  Then the water came back on.  I yelled my thanks and they laughed some more.

I finished my shower and as I turned off the water, something exploded.  Near my head.  I ducked for cover.  Luckily I didn’t scream because it only took me a second to realize that one of the enormous ripe breadfruit had fallen onto the tin roof about a foot over my head.  I heard it roll off the roof and splat on the ground. 

There is a saying here that you can never die of starvation in Samoa because food falls on your head here.   So true.

For anyone interested in my meals, dinner that night was mashed potatoes (actually 1 small potato, mashed) and the chicken quarter cooked in a non-stick pan with carrot slices and some orange marmalade.  Easy and tasty.  If I’d known the breadfruit was getting ready to fall I could have had that instead of the potato.