BRE 20: It means no worries…

It’s been a while friends, and for that I apologize. Part of the reason I have not written recently is that things have assumed a routine, whatever seemed noteworthy before now passes without a second notice and it feels as if there is nothing new to report. That is not to say that life is dull, because it is not, but simply that it now feels like my life rather than “the experience of a lifetime” or a two year escape from it. Despite the settled dust, there are things that occur every day to remind me I am not in Kansas anymore. Firstly, the sounds I wake up to. The loudest sounds come from the ancient farming trucks. I live on the last road before miles and miles of rice fields. Thus the trucks that carry equipment and rice farmers back and forth are constantly passing my house. Often 15 to 20 people will pile in the back, yelling things over the din as they prepare for the day. The second loudest sounds come from the animals. A motley assortment of roosters, chickens, dogs, birds, and cats are constantly roaming around the village, making noise, and irritating each other (as well as me). The next noise that weaves its way into my burgeoning consciousness is the pounding of a mortar and pestle. Most Thai dishes begin with mashing a few main ingredients together with a mortar and pestle. Most Thais eat a full meal in the morning, and thus the sounds of the women next door cooking waft into my bedroom window during the early hours. This sound has a soothing regularity to it, although it still does not motivate me to eat spicy curry and salted fish for breakfast.
Right now it is rainy season, although it has not been raining often. It usually rains at night, which can shut off the power and the water supply, but also cools the air which makes sleeping more comfortable. It is an unpredictable coquettish rain, that falls on impulse when you least expect it. The sky could be ominously black and not a drop drips from the clouds, or it can pour out of a clear sky. It is mischievous rain that never rains when you want it to, and always knows when you need to do your laundry. On the topic of laundry, it is allegedly this very activity that caused the rash which has been living on my arms for 10 days now. I wash my clothes in a bucket with my hands, and my arms usually end up covered in soapy water. Last week a mysterious collection of dots and splotches that did not itch or hurt, but was unsightly, began climbing my arms and was not going away. The Peace Corps doctor said it was a probably a reaction to the chemicals in the laundry detergent powder and will be better in another week, but I would like it to go away, as some people look at me like a leper. Still I prefer an innocuous rash to the ant bites I received after wrapping my towel around me, where they had unfortunately set up camp. Ah, and did I mention on the train to Bangkok I had my purse slit by a thief, and my phone, money, and credit cards were stolen?
These may all seem like negative things, and they are. Sometimes I think the smallest things will tip me over the edge. But for the most part, I have acquired quite the hakuna matata perspective on it all, or at least I am beginning to. Things are out of my control, the good outweighs the bad, none of these annoyances are a big deal, and the key is to take deep breaths and let it all go. I have acclimated to the sounds and enjoy watching the animals puttering around my yard; I use the misbehaved rain as an opportunity to do art projects or yoga in my house; the rash will ultimately go away and I view as an “earning my spots” type thing- plus it is not nearly as bad as the bacterial skin infection on my chin from a few months ago. As for the purse, there was not too much money in it, I wanted to switch banks anyway, and thankfully my passport and camera were stashed elsewhere. These silver linings do not come from unfailing optimism or perfect inner peace, but rather from the realization that getting worked up over things, particularly in this country, has little to no effect, and it is better to let things flow as they will, rather than trying to fight them.
Furthermore, as I mentioned above, no situation is going to be perfect. For us Peace Corps volunteers, I think sometimes we revel in the misfortune, in the pains, in the aggravations, because it is not supposed to be easy, nor do we want it to be. But to dwell on these is a mistake, to forget the joys is ignorant. When I get so frustrated at the students I want to scream, or feel completely drained after a day of school, I remember my neighbor who works 20+ hour shifts on her feet in a wire factory, and feel sheepish, but also a greater conviction in what I am doing. She desperately wants her daughter to be better at English so she can have a better life, and many of my students are like that. I can also laugh at the silly things, like when I accidentally taught my kids that people from Norway are Nordish, or when they tried to say soccer and all I could hear was 30 little voices saying “suck it”. When I first got to site, I disliked that I lived close to an ugly little town. I wanted the pastoral small Thai village and resented the town’s presence, for violating my ideals and expectations. Now I appreciate it for the daily market, the bike and paper shops, the convenient stores, and most of all, the smoothie stands. Additionally, the town is just a small part of my site. The 10 villages around it are beautiful, with vibrant flowers and lush foliage bursting everywhere, homes clustered in tightly-knit communities, and a river that flows towards the mountains. My friend Liz from Cornell who visited for a day on her way to Chiang Mai said it was like a butterfly garden. I had barely even noticed the butterflies before.
Even writing it now, my petite pearls of wisdom seem trite. I’ve read these same things many times before and none of my thoughts are original or surprising. I suppose what I am driving at is how more than ever, I am feeling the harmony that exists in the universe, the ying and the yang, the churning, inevitable, inexplicable flow of life swirling around us that is not necessarily good or bad, but just is. It is not about optimism or pessimism, but about balance and perceiving things as they are. And for the first time in my life, these ideas I’ve had and heard before, I truly believe and am experiencing in what feels like a deep and visceral way. Now that these notions are being put into practice, and I am beginning to understand them beyond the words that express them.
Hakuna Matata