adaptation

It’s been awhile since I’ve written, and though it’s always a cathartic process that makes me feel like I’m instantaneously catching up with everyone whose emails I haven’t answered yet, sometimes I think I avoid it. Yes, I’m “very busy” with other things pulling me this way and that (namely, work), but I guess I know that though my environment may be somewhat exotic, my days are often incredibly lackluster… I go to the office. I have a stressful, long day. I go home. I crash.

And then the cycle repeats itself, deviating at times for trips to the field and other more inspirational activities, evenings out at one of our three dine-able restaurants, and lately, sadly, farewell parties. Yes, the exodus of the original team we had when I arrived has begun, and we recently said “see you later” (not “good-bye”) to two of our colleagues within just 10 days. The first was Elzat, who was both a beloved housemate and an office buddy who sat beside me almost my entire time here. She’s home in Kyrgyzstan now, spending a few months with her younger sisters and coaching them through the process of applying to study in the U.S. like she did. I’m thinking I may just have to go see her when I leave Banda. After all, I’ve never been to Central Asia before…

Transitions are happening all around me. Just as projects are really starting to move full steam ahead, national headquarters is searching for my replacement, and I hear myself in planning and strategy meetings saying things like “Well, actually, I’m leaving in October…” It’s strange, exciting, terrifying and endless other emotions all at the same time. And amid it all is the perpetual question – “So, what are you doing after this?”

My most often used answer = “Sleeping.”
My humanitarian answer = “I hope to work in Sudan or in the Middle East.”
My intellectual answer = “I’m going to write a novel.”
My homesick answer = “Buying a house in the South and settling down.”
My over-worked and frustrated answer = “Starting my own business and working for myself.”
My honest answer = “I have no idea.”

Or better yet, I have too many ideas. Perhaps if I come home and sleep for a long, long time clarity will come to me in a dream… I’m kidding. Sort of. I know my next path with be just as clearly marked as the one that led me to Banda. But as I start to see glimpses of this journey’s end, I do wonder what is next…

Part of discovering what’s next, I think, is the continuous process of finding what inspires you most in your current environment. And one of our programs that I’ve loved and grasped the most since being here is our Psychosocial Support Program. You won’t hear the term “psychosocial” in the U.S., but perhaps it’s best explained as community counseling for the whole community. After major disasters, psychosocial specialists help communities re-establish their cultural traditions, community structures, and daily routines through relevant, unique activities. In an emergency, they do things like psychological first aid (yes, there is such a thing) and help set up informal schools for kids when schools are damaged or destroyed. It’s a lot to explain (an entire emerging field of psychology actually), but basically, it’s an incredible program. So, just in case I wanted to leave communications and tackle a new area of disaster response in the future, I have currently immersed myself in a 15-day training to become a certified psychosocial “Crisis Intervention Specialist.”

It’s a mouthful, I know, but it’s exciting. And perhaps I’m insane for still trying to work while doing this intensive course, but I really have too many things I can’t lose momentum on at this point and have no idea what other opportunity I may have to get this training. It’s currently Day 6 of the 15, and I’ve been to most every session, understood it all extremely well, but have met one reoccurring challenge – group work.

Though the course was technically supposed to be in English and all of the trainers are my English-speaking colleagues, each session uses an instructor and a translator, and two projectors simultaneously showing powerpoints in English and Bahasa Indonesian. This is not a problem. However, me being the only non-Indonesian participant, and only three or so others being fluent or brave enough to really interact with me, it leaves me in “group work” sitting and staring off into space while the rest of the group jabbers rapidly about a question or topic I am longing to discuss. So, as you can imagine, it’s a wee bit frustrating. I wrestle with my own linguistical inadequacies for not learning to speak more Bahasa after ten months, and then simultaneously I feel oddly excluded, which is never a good feeling, especially in a training that teaches people how to re-establish community bonds and relationships.

After the second or third day, I was feeling particularly the Oddball and was honestly relieved when the final group activity ended and my colleagues (who are leading the training) and I hopped in the car and headed home. Before I could even utter a word in English to start a bit of conversation that I could actually understand, my dear friends with me, who are all from India, started speaking in Hindi! As I slumped back in my seat, they proceeded to chatter the entire way home… and something in me (selfishly?) just wanted to scream – SOMEONE SPEAK IN MY LANGUAGE!!

But, as we all know, it’s not “all about us” and selfish people are indeed among the most miserable people on the planet. Yet, I suppose we all have moments of wanting to be heard, and included accordingly… Random thought, I know, but I felt the need to share that small little reality of my daily life, as I have spent so much time here listening to people talk and having no clue what they’re saying. Hopefully, though, I’ll come back much more skilled in understanding non-verbal communication, if not Bahasa Indonesian.

selamat malam (good night),
bonnie jean