And Sometimes I Feel So Out Of Place
As training seems to drain on, frustrations over long sessions and Kinyarwanda becoming more complicated grows with everyday throughout our cohort and my mind has started to drift home. I can’t help but think of the things happening with my friends and what amazing restaurant my parents could be going to tonight (yes, I am craving good, non-Rwandan food right now). The reality of FOMO (Fear Of Missing Out) becomes more real each week I am here. It is a very real fear for many of us here that we will miss a big event (wedding, birth, etc.) or a tragedy (death, sickness, etc.), but it is not just the big things that I fear missing, it is the small changes that happen over this long time.
I spend every day surrounded by 41 other Americans and countless teachers and trainers and yet as the weeks of training have continued I have come to feel more and more alone. While cliques naturally formed, and language divisions became more and more clear I found myself walking home alone more and more. I found that I have been separating myself from the gossip and constant complaining that is PST (Pre-Service Training). I truly believe this is the best thing for me mentally and emotionally. Negatively and quick downward spiral that you can’t afford when you have 2 years of service ahead. That being said this act of being positive, patient and giving everyone the benefit of the doubt is exhausting and lonely. This lonely definitely feels worse when you are the only person who looks like you in your house and constantly get called Umuzungu as you walk. These things are constant reminders that I am out of place.
As I was walking home alone today I had the chance to talk with a woman about her family and her business selling sheets at the market. I also had the opportunity to buy igitenge (fabric) from my favorite stall in the market (Jean-Pierre always has the best selection). After I began my slow walk home and I began to feel bad that I was walking alone and to tell myself that I should have someone to walk with everyday. As I began to berate myself for not having a bes friend in my cohort I stopped myself. I could throw myself a pity party over feeling lonely and out of place or I can change my thinking.
Today I choose to think:
Walking alone is a sign of bravery.
Speaking a language you’ve only been learning for 2 months is a sign of bravery.
Bargaining at the market alone is a sign of bravery.
Choosing to go a different way is a sign of bravery.
Asking someone about their day knowing there is a 50% chance you won’t understand them is a sign of bravery.
Walking down the street knowing everyone is watching you is a sign of bravery.
Standing against the negative/incorrect stereotypes of Americans is a sign of bravery.
A volunteer recently told me (and its posted on our classroom wall):
Although these things may have been easy and natural for me in the United States that are achievements in this foreign country. Today I chose to not look at them as negatives things I have to do alone, but as brave things I choose to do alone.
So, although I am exhausted and can’t wait until PST is over I choose to not let the negativity and loneliness consume me. I choose to continue the things I love despite doing them alone. I choose to be brave and not hide from the uncomfortable and unfamiliar situations that surround me.