Culture Shock (Week 3)

An honest statement: This week has been hard. 

I was hoping the second stage of culture shock would hold off for a while longer, but it hit with decent force this week. (First stage: Honymoon stage. Second stage: Irritablity stage.) As much as I had hoped, I did anticipate it would hit around this time. Most of my previous international travels have lasted about 2-3 weeks, and while I've loved each adventure, I've always felt profoundly ready to arrive back in a familiar culture. I am feeling that same longing. It's a desire for comfort and familiarity, and it's nearly breaking my bones. Yet this time, that feeling will have to settle in for a while. This is more than a quick jaunt around the globe.

I was ready for culture shock. It hasn't taken me by surprise. I know how to handle it. I know what to expect. But, yikes, that isn't making anything easier. 

The heat and humidity are driving me insane. Although, I've discovered that if one can at least keep their forehead cool that's much of the battle. 

The dust and grime and bugs weren't ever "easy" but now they're working their way into every part of me. Nothing is "clean," not even the clinic operating tables. Last night I saw a little cricket crawl into my room. I gently nudged it out with my foot. It came back. I left it. I've made as many  precautions towards spiders as I can, but the truth is bugs are a part of Peru. And now, so am I. Today, as I opened my door, I was startled by an ant posy carrying the cricket out...dead. 

A few nights ago we watched as Papa Henrry operated on an 8 year-old girl with severe burns. The thick humidity seemed to magnify her piercing screams. I think only adrenilen kept my blood from running cold. Ideally, she should have been sent to an emergency room and sedated with more than just ibuprofen. But, not everything CAN be ideal here. (That story deserves its own post as well. Maybe for next week.) 

Naps are frequent, but lately the heat has kept me from truly resting. Either sleep can't find me, or it tosses me around with it's sweaty fingers. 

We have markets close by and a store similar to Walmart, but learning to anticipate how much food we'll need for a week is more difficult that I expected. We keep coming home with too few apples and bread, too many onions and garlic.

I'm an independent soul (as long as not too many phone calls are required). At college, my saving grace was having my own car. If I needed a change of scenery and some time to myself, I'd just grab my backpack and gallivant into town. Here, it's too dangerous to venture off by myself. I have all the freedom I need between my room and the kitchen, but if I want to explore...independence can't follow. 

So far, I'm still enjoying doing laundry by hand, but having no dryer is taking some adjusting. We must plan ahead. It's not like we can throw dirty scrubs in the laundry and have them ready by morning. They have to dry on the line and that takes time. Yesterday I walked to the laundry room to grab some dry clothes. I turned on the light and found myself face to face with a great spider. It sat between me and the clothes line. Now let me ask you this. How is one expected to put on their big girl panties and kill the dang spider, when that dang spider is standing between you and your big girl panties? 

I love learning Spanish, but it is rough not being able easily to communicate with 95% of the people in my life. 

Yesterday we drove almost 2 hours out into the jungle to help an American medical group from Kansas City with clinic. The road was bumpy and rutty. A couple times Pastor David and Papa Henrry had to get out to figure out how to get the car across particularly bad patches of road. Honestly, it was grand fun! But, it was still not home.

I discovered the other day that it takes eleven soles to send a letter home. Not bad if you convert it to American currency, but shocking seeing that I can buy 8 (small) tomatoes for 1 sol. No matter! I consider it a necessary expense. Words are my love language, and if that's what it takes to send letters home, it's worth it. 

My friends are settling back into Walla Walla for another year of college. It's weird seeing everyone's reunion pictures and knowing they will be preparing to say goodbye again before I even make it back. Life back home isn't waiting, nor should it. Life in the United States is moving forward, just like it ought. I know I'm not forgotten, but wow, I feel stuck. I feel stuck in a life with no dryers and plumbing that won't accept toilet paper. I feel stuck in a life that can't give decent anesthetic to little girls with feet charred black. I feel stuck in a life with no air conditioning. 

And then I feel guilty. I feel guilty for feeling stuck in a world where I have more food money than many of the locals. I feel guilty for feeling stuck in a world that I'll only be living in for 9 months. I feel guilty for still wanting home even when I'm surrounded by some of the world's most loving, dearest people. I feel guilty for wanting to communicate with words, instead of embracing the beauty of communicating with love. 

And then I remember that it's just culture shock. I won't feel like this forever. There is no need to feel guilty. It's important to strive towards growth, but it's OK to feel a little buried. It's okay to feel a lot homesick. It's okay to embrace that life back home is moving forward. It's okay to feel. It's okay to be a little annoyed with the stye and dust in my eyes. It's okay to be human. It's okay to be real. 

What isn't okay is to allow those feelings to stop me. What isn't okay is to allow those feelings to embitter me. What isn't okay is to allow those feelings to keep me where I'm at. 

So, like Mama told me, "Remember that the first step in the miracle of service is just showing up." 

~TBS~