Sprung!

With the mountainside in my view, the sun splashing the kitchen walls, I sit and write this as the fire burns and breakfast’s potatoes sizzle in my new non-stick pan. This is my second morning to wake in the house which I will be in until at least October.  While there are drawbacks, like the non existent bathroom ( but there’s an outhouse) and the bare cement walls (which my brother noted made it look like I was in the newest SAW movie), I am happy to be here. There is a wild satisfaction engendered by cleaning all of my own dishes, organizing things in the kitchen (and every where else) into the precise way I want them. It’s mine. 

Now that I have total control over my environment, I have very high expectations of myself. I no longer want to melt into a make believe world watching movies or TV shows on my computer. There is no reason for me to sit in my room for hours on end anymore. Luckily, there have been times in my life when the last thing I felt like doing was turning on the TV and so my challenge will not be as great as possible. Recently, I can’t stop thinking about my favorite little paradise on earth, Lake George. Only, it’s not just the body of water and land that is Lake George that I yearn for, it is the summertime Huletts Landing Community as well.

Last summer I didn’t find myself wishing for this oasis at all. With all the new sensory experiences, there almost wasn’t room for missing anything. Now that my group’s year anniversary in Armenia creeps closer, I think we are all reflecting on the time that has passed. Not only are we seeing how very fresh and fragile we were upon arrival – but also we are remembering why we are here and what we sought in coming. I’ve been having a lot of conversations with my friends here and it seems we are all coming around this first year bend. We know what we want to focus on and how exactly we are going to approach that goal, we know who our friends truly are and finally, we just watched our first year flash in an instant. With this is in mind, we are all taking mental note to accomplish whatever it was we sought from the beginning.

I know that one of the things I desired most was an opportunity to take a large step back from my reality and realize what is was I needed to be happy.  Already I am seeing a much greater difference than before, understanding that some things are far more important to me than I had previously realized.  For one, cooking meals daily and entertaining folks semi-regularly is a great passion of mine. I’d forgotten how much I love to host get-togethers. Lengths of uninterrupted silence is yet another need that I have discovered. While I had known that each of these things were enjoyable for me, I didn’t quite understand how it would affect me were they to be taken away.  Huletts Landing has always been a place where I could have many of my needs met. There is such a serenity in the atmosphere and people , joy in the voices of children and an attitude that whatever you want to do to make yourself happy, just go ahead and do it. I miss that sort of freedom, I value that freedom.

One of the greatest challenges of my Peace Corps service will be the limitations of freedom as a young American woman. Yet with the new house, I get to spread my wings that much more than before. And Lordy-lord, does it feel good.

Home Sweet Home

What's that you say, darling? Weren't you just escaping your 'prison' for the last two weeks? Yes, yes I was.

My dear readers, followers, friends, and stalkers I thank you for hanging tight during my times of tribulation. I must admit, I have deleted the post which describes in detail my melt down approximately two weeks ago. I thought it was wise to do so for two reasons. One, my country director sort of asked me to and two, well... it was really just one I guess. At first I edited some parts out, and then I thought "shiiiiiiiit, delete". I could see his point, reiterated by others that it would bring shame to my community and could be misinterpreted. One of the things I reflected on heavily while taking my little mental health vacation was what did I come here to do? Certainly, it was not to bring negative attention to the people I live and work with.

I thought long and hard about this, spoke for probably a total of 20 hours with different friends about the topic. Why am I here? What was I seeking? It's so easy to get lost in the romance of living abroad, meeting new friends, etc. I lost my way, I lost sight of my intentions and it's been a great relief to be back in my original mindset. I have always viewed service, or self imposed hardships as an opportunity for self cleansing. Through altruism, we can see the bigger picture and better understand our own purpose in life. I have been wrestling with the idea that one of my larger expectations from before coming has been a huge disappointment. I had it made up, that where ever I ended up serving, I would become enlightened or have some huge epiphany that while different and unorthodox, this new community's way of operating in this world had merit. This doesn't mean I hate Armenian culture. There are many things that I enjoy. I feel guilty even admitting this is the way I feel.

But yesterday, as I walked up the steps toward the train station which leads me to my village's bus I realized I was going home. In that moment I knew, the dread that had resided in the bottom of my belly was gone. Let's rewind a few days backward. I was sitting in Chris's bathtub -in the dark- seeking answers or meditating. Last April, I participated in a women's retreat in Pennsylvania recommended to me by my therapist at the time. For a while, I was really good about utilizing some of the tools we'd been given to cope / heal. It's been a long time since I returned to any of that stuff. I decided in Chris's bathroom to start with the very first guided meditation.

Now, I don't think I can properly describe what it is or what I saw, but what I realized and concluded was that my sense of well being or 'happiness' was shattered months ago. It was in the start of my actual service (after training) that the idea I'd been clinging to as my thread of hope and love became obsolete. He was the bandage I'd been using to protect a very old wound, and it got ripped off. I was unhappy. I have been unhappy, deeply sad and lonely for the last six months. Can you imagine? REALIZING that you are unhappy? It sounds so odd, but it's the truth. With that, it became clear that my reaction to uncomfortable situations in the host family, with the director and my counterpart and other PCVs is deeply tied to this other thing that I've been ignoring. It was then I understood that a house with painted walls and wood floors and a nice bathroom is not going to make me happy. If anything, these things that I have with the host family have kept me lulled into happiness. I like the blue walls, I love their shower, I like being taken care of even more. But ultimately, a couple layers below the surface this discontent remains. And so maybe praying that whatever gods may be give me a nice house was short sighted. In a way I think I need to take the unfinished house. It is shelter. I can cook there and entertain there and sleep there. There are walls, a roof, a bed and a kitchen. So, I will continue to rely on my host family for showers. SO WHAT. It could be worse, this could be my actual life.  As my brother Andrew pointed out, there are poor families in America who spend their whole lives relying on others for something so much as a shower.

If there's something I'm extremely good at, it's pretending that everything is okay when it is not. My moment of reckoning came two weeks ago on the phone with an older volunteer. She powerfully blew away the smoke and smashed the mirrors, revealing my unhappiness. Only, I couldn't tell where it was coming from. It took two weeks away, cooking nice meals for loved ones and new friends, a cry outside the bar with a new friend, an international conversation with an old friend, 3 hour long baths, and a ridiculous amount of coffee and writing to get back to good.

I am on my two feet again, eyes and heart wide open.


Song Of The Week: Ben Howard - Keep Your Head Up
Quote Of The Week: "Wait, isn't that the place with the serial killings?"
                                   "What can I say? It's a convenient place to bury people."
                                    "Oh my god, Carolyn."
                                   "Whatever, it's a great beach is all I'm saying."