My New House

 This is the bedroom/office/yoga studio/closet/clothesline/best room ever. You can see my bed in the corner. My desk with computer on the left as well.

 This is the other half of what I will call the 'multipurpose' room. Same room as above. You can see my desk with computer on the right. My fan!!! And my dining room table and chairs (made out of old desks and chairs from the school. The blue sheet serves as my door.

 My kitchen. You can see my counter, rice cooker and electric burners. On the other side is my back door.

Different view of my kitchen, You can see the styrofoam cooler that the medical staff gave me. Through the half wall if the empty large room that I am using right now for a clothesline. May eventually be for English classes, but right now I like that its empty.

 New animal friends in my house. Fruit bats!

 My sink, for dishes, laundry, and bathroom needs (like washing hands and brushing teeth). Also shelves with my dishes and the two doors in the back ground lead to my toilet and my shower.

 My sink. You can see my backyard here, its the soccer field!

 My room full of sand. Doesn't your house have a sand room? I killed with that joke yesterday.

 My house from the front. The window on the far left is a bedroom window.

 My neighbors. The school is the yellow building and the pink building is the cafeteria.

 My new bike!

Sugar. So cute!

Things will get ... different

I think its time for a little bit of the truth. No more humor to avoid reality, no more avoidance to ignore pain.

Upon arriving back at site the problems with rats in my house had become much worse. I can confidently use the word ´infestation.´ Not only were the numbers multiplied, but the rats were now entering my room. I also learned that two walls in my room and my ceiling are hollow. This is why I can always hear the rats, when other people in the house cannot. I am not crazy (a more difficult realization than expected).

Rats were on the floor of my bedroom at night, squeaking and scratching at the feet of my bed. They were running in the walls, walls that my bed was pushed up against, running what at times felt like across my face. They were in the cupboards in the mornings, having spent their nights with the dishes I eat on and the food I eat. They were in the sink, where the dirty dishes from the day before sit. (This only became a notable problem when we did not have dish soap in the house for a week) They are screaming and fighting in the ceiling above my bed, and I can hear that they are trying to chew through the walls. I am not eating, I am not sleeping and I am spending most of my days in bed because I have very little energy and even less motivation. I am depressed. I am exhausted. I am beat.

I left after 3 weeks. It took leaving the situation to realize that I needed to leave. To realize that leaving wasn't a personal failure and that it didn't mean I wasn't tough enough.

I have received wonderful support from Peace Corps and when I return to site I will be moving into a new house and living alone. I am very grateful for the medical and administrative staff who have supported me through this process.

Valuable life lesson...? It is important to acknowledge when your limits have been exceeded. Sometimes its not just a matter of being a little bit tougher, sometimes its a matter of personal health and safety. And friends and family can help you with those distinctions, when you aren't able to make them yourself.

livin the life

Yesterday during a soccer game with the woman's team I broke my large toenail on my right foot. Now that happens to be the foot that didn't recently have surgery (but the foot on which I broke my ring toe a few months ago). Gracias a Dios. I usually wouldn't be one to complain about breaking a toenail, but let me explain how exactly this toenail is broken. About halfway down the toenail it is broken halfway to the middle horizontally. I don't know how to fix it or make it better. So I painted my toes today, because when I have no way to actually solve a problem, I guess I believe that making it look prettier helps.

Change and waiting: two things that I am generally not a fan of. Right now I am waiting for change, and that may just be the worst of all worlds (hyperbole-intended for effect). To add misery to misfortune I can’t do anything about the waiting, what I could have done I have done and the rest is in the hands of other people, other people who are not affected by the waiting or the lack of change. It’s just me, waiting (rather impatiently). Each day I’m getting increasingly more frustrated by the status quo. Also sounds like there is some self-pity happening there too.

 Third and final random topic of the day. Grocery stores. I have been having very longing dreams about grocery stores. Whole Foods, Trader Joes, Madison Market, QFC, Fred Meyer and the like. I think its the variety that I am really dreaming about but either way my subconscious is hungry.

should have turned around and left before the sun came up again

Today a friend and respected fellow volunteer told me- “I don’t know how you are doing it. I couldn’t, I would have been long gone by now.” Hmm. I am not going to lie, there have definitely been days when I thought, ok, well, I am done with this now. Not in a dramatic fit of tears, or in the middle of the night when the rats are creeping closer to my bed. But just in the middle of a mundane task I catch myself thinking, solid effort but I think I will take that free plane ticket home now.

One of the things that I hated about life and work in the US was the feeling that I was trapped. Waking up Monday morning to a blaring alarm I couldn’t help but think, only 4 more days of dragging my ass out of bed until I can decide how to spend my time for 48 hours. Or looking at a calendar and counting the months until the next paid holiday. And I enjoyed my job, it was something that I was passionate about and felt served a necessary purpose. I enjoyed my co-workers and was not actively looking for work anywhere else. But still, I felt trapped. MondayTuesdayWednesdayThursdayFriday, Weekend, repeat.

I love that in Peace Corps each day is different, or the same, but either way I get to make the choice. I am the master of my daily destiny, and its wonderful. I get out of bed at 6am some days to run before it gets to hot out, and other days I stay in bed until 9am. Some Sundays I sit in a rocking chair the entire day and read. I have started and finished multiple books all in the same day. If I need to go into town to run errands I can dedicate an entire day to errand running. If a friend is having a rough time then I go spend the night at her site. I get to play soccer every afternoon and pick fruit off the trees with the kiddos. I love the freedom.

What a stark contrast: US trapedness and Peace Corps freedom. Makes Peace Corps sounds like the obvious choice (for me at least). But then why is that ticket home so tempting sometimes. I’m not sure if I know why. It’s probably the other side of the freedom coin. Free to stay or free to go.  Free to choose, obligated to choose.

I think the important point is that I’m not thinking about leaving in the midst of emotional turmoil or overwhelming fear. I am thinking about leaving in moments of adjustment or uncomfortableness. When I pour myself a cup of coffee and just as I am bending over to take the first blessed sip, a drip of my sweat drops on in. Or when I get off the bus in the early evening just as it starts to downpour and not a single car passes me until I am 5 minutes from home. Or when I hungrily sit down to lunch and then realize that after my first bite of rice and beans, my appetite has begun yet another protest in search of variety.

 If you read this and finish thinking: “Well it sounds like Chelsea is really struggling and is ready to call it quits”—then you missed the point completely.

It is possible that there really are no boundaries.

Yesterday evening I was exhausted. Having walked 2 hours roundtrip to take the bus to town and running errands all day is enough to exhaust me on a good day.  On top of that I had only slept very few hours the night before and I decided to play soccer with the kids before the sun went down. I ended up falling asleep on my bed with my clothes on, net off and lights on at 7 o’clock. When I woke up a 9, I was a little confused, but mostly drowsy. I changed into pajamas, put my net up and went to use the bathroom before bed. Here is the problem with using the bathroom after the lights have been turned off; critters. Rats, bats and toads. You have to dodge the rats on the floor/walls while bobbing to avoid the bats that begin circling once you turn the lights on. Now I was under the (false) belief that I had concurred the toads. They were an obstacle that was behind me, I had concurred that fear. Wrong. Last night as I was half asleep and shooing a toad out of the kitchen with a broom I glance into the bathroom to see two other toads. Well shoot. I can easily shoe toads away in an open area, but a small-enclosed space is another story. I would have to enter through the door, and then try to find a way to position myself in a corner (without startling the toads) so that I could try to sweep them out the door, but the door opens into the bathroom and only opens about a third of the way. In the end I went back to bed and hoped that if I woke up desperately needing to use the bathroom then the toads would have relocated.

I live with rats. Okay no news there. But as previously stated they seem to be more frightened of me then I am of them.  My strategy: avoidance with a dash of denial. It was working wonderfully. Key word: was. So a few days ago I dropped a file of papers in a plastic bag on the floor behind my dresser. At the moment I was feeling lazy and decided to pick them up another day. Fast-forward a few days. I had heard some squeaking in the morning coming from my dresser, but I wasn’t too fazed because the rats usually like to hang out behind the wall that my dresser is pushed up against. Well after Sugar kept sniffing the dresser all afternoon I decided that I had to investigate-deciding that it would be better to know then to continue in unknowing. (Usually that is not my opinion, I usually like to put off certainly as long as possible, because without certainty there is still hope) So after putting on my rubber boots to protect me feet, getting the broom and cat, and doing a little freak out dance and inner squeal, I pulled the dresser away from the corner, lifted it up, and closed my eyes. Nothing happened. Upon further inspection there were no rats, but chewed up papers and lots of rat shit. Bummer. The delusion that I was safe and rat-less in my room was thus shattered. As you may have guess this is the reason for my sleep deprivation from earlier in the story, because when you know that rats are coming into your room it is much harder to sleep.

Now I have been to the store and I have bought sticky rat trapping paper. (Couldn’t find rat traps and rat poison seemed to dangerous- I don’t want to kill the cat or Sugar) So…now I have sticky paper that I can put on the floor that will trap the rats and then I just have to ‘dispose’ of them. So says the directions. I like the idea that I could catch the rats and teach them a lesson: It is not okay to fuck with the gringa. But then again I am going to catch LIVE rats. I think the only thing that may scare me more than having rats enter my room at will, is having to deal with a live rat stuck on a piece of paper. Rock and a hard place.

In less dramatic news, life continues at a glacially slow pace. I am working on being a member of the community by just being here. I am occupying space in public areas, playing lots of soccer and talking about a community meeting to present my work plan. I am getting lots of plans about when I am going to start up again with English classes. And although I could very easily start more classes tomorrow I am holding back. I think rushing into English classes would be a cop-out. I have some other projects I would like to work on, and although they will definitely be more difficult I need to force myself to take the more difficult road, or else I may end up teaching English classes for two years without ever delving into some of the deeper and more difficult needs. One day at a time.

Tomorrow I am meeting a friend from the soccer team and we are going running in the morning. I’m excited to have workout partner, because historically that has been the one thing that gets me up and motivated about exercise. And maybe running will improve my soccer, because my soccer is in desperate need of improvement- I am just not that well-adjusted to being an inadequate athlete.  

Gigantic thanks to Mom, Ajla and Michelle. I received and opened all of your packages yesterday and it made for the best day ever!!! Endless gratitude.

Loves, patience, and courage,

Chelsea

Karma

Today walking home from the bus stop the older gentleman who carried my books last week had 5 gallons of gasoline. A younger gentleman carried the gasoline for him. Isn't that nice.

Suddenly I’m in over my head…

Ok, well maybe not so suddenly. But I am definitely in over my head.

I am working on finding my place again. Where do I belong during meetings? What are appropriate places to voice my opinions and plans? How do I interact with different members of the community, and in which ways do I show them respect? Who is Chelsea the Peace Corps Volunteer in rural Costa Rica? And how does she resemble Chelsea the Seattlite of my former life?

My experience to date has definitely brought into question much of what is my self-identity. I am constantly defining (for myself and my community) what it means to be an American, a foreign female, a Peace Corps Volunteer and last but not least a Chelsea.  What are the important parts of me that I want to keep, which parts were more societal then personal, what are my fundamental driving values (and why), how should I spend my time when I am in complete control of it, what are my outlets when I am stressed or when I want to have fun and how can I undergo this process while I am still living my daily life?

Things I have learned so far.

1.     Transition (still) makes me uneasy, but an awareness of that helps (it doesn’t lessen the anxiety, but it allows me to settle into the uneasiness)

2.     One on one friendships are very important to me- I need them to feel supported

3.     I (almost) always find clarity in problems when I write them down

4.     Positivity is invaluable as a personal perspective and as something I can offer to others

5.     I enjoy time spent (physically) traveling (ex: buses, walking, etc)– it is some of my most productive thinking time

6.     I value direct honest communication

7.     Physical activity makes me feel more alive

8.     I value teamwork and enjoy leading

9.     I need outlets for my creativity

10.  Reading good books is an integral part of my life

11.  I am a very visual learner and need lists to stay organized – organization is important to me

12.  I don’t know where I am going

13. It is important to me to remember where I have been, what I have accomplished, and the people who have been a part of my journey

That’s all I’ve got in this moment. Vamos a ver how this experience continues to affect/shape/mold/imprint itself upon me.

Ups and Downs and All Arounds

Arrived back in community. The bus schedule changed, again, which means that there are fewer buses now. The good news is that the return bus is earlier so I don’t have to walk home alone in the dark. The bad news is that an earlier departure is going to make traveling in the future and returning to site a little more difficult, but luckily I have a friend in my closest city that I can always crash with.

An older gentleman from the bus walked home with me in the downpour and helped carry on of my bags, which was very nice, since about halfway through the walk we passed his home. When I passed the school and some houses in town the kids waved out the window and screamed my name and a few kids ran into the street to give me hugs, which felt wonderful!

Then I got home. Gma told me she thought there was a rat in my room. I had been gone over a month and she thought she heard some scratching from inside. Good news is that there was no rat. Bad news, there was a lot of rat shit on my bed, really gross. After some cleaning and unpacking I settled back in.

I definitely am going to need some time to readjust to life at site, and I am taking things slow and giving myself time, but its pretty overwhelming knowing that I am here, alone and now its time to start projects. Yikes, good luck Chelsea.

You have brains in your head. You have feet in your shoes.You can steer yourself any direction you choose.You’re on your own. And you know what you know. And YOU are the guy who’ll decide where to go.

After what was a long medical journey, some intense Peace Corps mid service training, a trip to the beach and a weekend waiting for the bus it is almost time to head back to my site. After being gone for over a month (with little communication to those back in site) I am a little worried about the upcoming week. Will things go right back to the way they were? Will I have lost some of the trust that I had gained? Will they be surprised, happy, disappointed? Just a few bus rides away and I will have answers to all of my questions.

But aside from the anxiety of transition I am blissfull happy. It was nourishing to see friends and have fun in the old familiar ways (although I find soccer and fishing fun, it was nice to have a night life and be in a bookstore). The beach was breathtaking and probably little bit healing too. And we saw a sloth with a baby on his belly at the beach, which was surreal.

I´m ready to settle back into stability, I just think wonder how the settling in process will go...will report back soon.

Enjoy your three day weekend. Sending loves, sand and smiles,

Chelsea