It’s not a secret that this Peace Corps thing is tough. I’d prefer my blog to be interesting and on the cheerful side – nobody wants to listen to me whine when I have so many cool exotic experiences to talk about! This past month, though, has been a doozy. Since the week before Christmas, I have been...frustrated.
Life in my village finally seemed to be on an upswing at the end of last week. I had some good times with my students doing an art exhibit and a weekend break with friends in Phnom Penh. The day before yesterday, though, three things happened:
1.My bike tire blew out for the second time in a week, leaving me stranded and giving me the options of either walking everywhere or riding a bike borrowed from the neighbors that everyone laughs when they see me on (since my knees come up to my chest).
2.We had a school staff conference. In addition to meaning my English club, my favorite and probably most productive part of the week, was cancelled, this involved sitting through 2.5 hours of incomprehensible meeting and being volunteered by my co-teacher, without my knowledge, to create and proctor the 9th grade semester exams.
3.(This was the tipping point.) I was told, in casual conversation, that the people at school think I’m lazy and unfriendly. They think this especially in comparison to Jane, my dear friend and closest neighbor who is doing some amazing things at her site, and her teaching of sports.
Word gets around here, and this was not the first time I’d heard people’s thoughts about me (I’m shy. I’m fat. I’m not very smart. I’m spoiled. I don’t know how to wash dishes/clothes). But these are the people I interact with most in my community. This is my boss. To find out they don’t respect me is, well, disappointing to say the least.
I’ve spent the last two days trying to see myself through their eyes. I understand how they can think I’m not doing all that much or trying very hard. From day one, the site assignment Peace Corps handed me contained a map of my province and 10 sentences about my school, 4 of which were about sports and how they wanted someone to come help teach sports. At my initial meeting with the school director and admin staff, I was asked multiple times if I could teach sports. No, I can’t, I told them. What about football? No. Volleyball? No. Maybe basketball? No. They have to wonder why Jane down the way is willing to help with sports when they got stuck with me, who refuses.
My school director has also asked about help finding books for the library, which clearly someone has told him many Peace Corps Volunteers help with. He’s asked multiple times about that, delegating my co-teachers to broach the subject with me. Now, I love libraries and coming in thought that would be a good potential project for me. Then I got a tour of our school library. A big stack of books labeled Room to Read (one of the big book donation projects), which someone had apparently gotten donated previously, were sitting in the back corner, still shrink-wrapped and gathering dust. And, well, no, I haven’t done ANY work to see about helping our school library.
The other request I got was to teach English. To the school director and his buddies. To my host mom. To other teachers at my school. Maybe, I told them. Let me see. After a while I can start. But I had no real desire to teach more English to people who would, in all likelihood, never have a need for it, after 20 hours a week of pulling teeth trying to get my students talk. Instead, I have been trying to make weekly trips to a bus stop in the next town over to practice English with the staff there who talk to and sell things to maybe 50 foreigners a day. But my school colleagues don’t see me do that. They also don’t see me sitting up in my room late at night, planning lessons and making activities for the students when most teachers teach straight from the book, or grading exams for my co-teachers, or correcting my students’ writing assignments. They don’t know about work I’m doing with Peace Corps or the meeting I had with an NGO that I’m hoping will do some programs with my students. No wonder they say I’m lazy. I can also try to be more friendly. I usually sit pretty quietly, since I can’t understand much of the teacher gossip that goes on all day during break times. Today as I was leaving school, I stopped by the teacher’s table to say I was going home, that I had to do my laundry, sorry I couldn’t sit and chat. “Who asked?” said one of the women.
I think I’ll move to Australia.
Sure, it’s easy to come up with all the problems I had today. The language barrier. My students’ lack of interest in my lessons. Not wanting to eat some stinking fermented fish thing for the third meal in a row. Vague stomach issues. My busted bike. Having to do my laundry by hand. Not having anyone to actually talk to.
Then there were a lot of pretty cool things about today too. My new buddy Mai (see the entry about Kirirom) who now looks for me to ride her bike home with me. The funny conversation my host mom and I had about school gossip. Iced coffee. The students who were excited to talk to me outside of class. The fact that I have yet to feel bored, a problem many other Volunteers have faced. My ability to zone and listen to American music on my iPod while I do my laundry by hand.
Peace Corps is not forcing me to be here. On the contrary, I could be on a plane home to the states within a few days if I wanted. I do think I’m having some positive effect on someone, somehow, even if it’s just myself. And it’s probably good I know what people really think of me, because I want to work harder to show them they’re wrong. Instead of thinking about the projects I want to do, I need to listen to what my community wants, even though I’ll never be able to satisfy everyone. I’ll probably wake up tomorrow and hear how fat I am and how big my nose is. I’ll probably get be asked to do more likely meaningless work for my co-teachers. I’ll probably be a little bit sick, as I have been for the past few days. I’ll probably feel pretty alone in the world, like I do most of the time.
But some days are like that, even in Australia.
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Three things:
ReplyDelete1. Also, at school Mrs. Dickens liked Paul's picture of the sailboat better than your picture of the invisible castle.
2. I think you should re-read the entry from your blog called "A bowl of Dessert". One of my favorite things I ever read, and I have two degrees in literature. I cry every time; no joke. You are making a difference.
3. There are a lot of times in my life when I've thought back about things people told me or taught me, and I realized I haven't really understood them until later (years later, sometimes, I am embarrassed to say). I think about that often as a teacher. Sometimes you don't see a student get something in the classroom, but it's possible you've planted something that's going to sprout later, even if it's a word they recognize or the name of a place they decide to visit because they heard you talk about it. Your time where you are now is a learning experience for you and the people you are with, and growth your visit engenders will continue to unfold - for both of you - for a long time after you've come home. Don't lose heart! It's all happening, just as it is supposed to.
Wow. I wrote an entry on being frustrated about the exact same time you wrote this one. Weird finding comfort in being simultaneously frustrated with life. Though I think I mostly just ranted and you wrote constructively. Hope things get better. This month was a doozy.
ReplyDelete-Helen