I have been bored out of my mind as of late. Basically, my organization doesn't really have anything for me to do. I occasionally write a report, or do a project. And I feel like dying when I do reports.
After my "volunteering" time, there is only about an hour until night-time, and so I run out and try to do something in town before rushing home so as to not be out alone at night. I don't ever feel unsafe at night, but people still tell me not to be about. Then I come to where I live and talk to my neighbor, to Lakshmi, and now to new French volunteer Celine who shares my room with me.
This all worries me. I have not felt "depressed" for many months now, but I know that it will come if I have nothing to do for so long. I think too much about things when I don't have anything to do. It is detrimental for me.
This is so frustrating to me as I very dearly love India, at least the part of it I have experienced. I love my friends here. I love coming into the office to get a hug and kiss from Sita, and going home to make some joke to Lakshmi. I love going to the Hindu temple, and riding the bus, and going to my store and to my chemist. I love going up to my terrace, and talking to my neighbor, which was at first a trial for me as I wanted alone-time.
But again, this is all in contrast to my volunteering duty. I spoke to my friend and office supervisor, Nandhini. She said they would get some kids together to start an English class I can teach. I jumped in excitement at the thought! I would have something to do!! YES!! …However, kids are now in school. Class would only be from 6 - 7 in the evening - the only time I normally have to explore town.
For the past week, I have had many thoughts of leaving India early, not because I am stressed here or dislike it at all, but because I am bored. I have quickly brushed these thoughts aside, knowing that probably everyone coming to India for a few months has that thought. At some point in our stay here, we foreigners hit a wall where we get bored or frustrated. This is just my wall - that Stage 2 of Culture shock.
I have prayed a lot, asking Father to help me be present to these feelings, and to feel them out. But things at work have only gotten worse and more boring for me. And usually thoughts of going home fade after a day or two, but now they are more recurring. I prayed to God that if He thought it best for me to leave earlier, to let me know. And now these thoughts are more frequent. Now, staying til September seems to be the incorrect thing to do.
Hm. I don't know. I don't want to leave my friends here, dammit!! I want to keep learning Tamil!! To keep discovering layers of culture by hanging out with my host family after work everyday. To wake up every day and to draw kolam, designs made with powder, on the porch every morning. I want to keep watching horribly made Tamil soap operas with Lakshmi, and play with Perumal's niece and nephew. I don't want to go back to America, to Utah, with its big highways, its disconnection from the land, and other factors which I cannot quite place my finger on. I don't want to go back and to get used to thinking that life in America is how the world is. To be just another person that "lived in India for a couple months" and assimilates back into the person they were before. I hate coming home and being unable to fully describe my experience to others. To go back and to let my time here become another memory. To return and not be understood by the majority of people I meet.
Every time I come home from a trip, I think of Frodo in Lord of the Rings, the story that I have looked to every time. He returns to his home to find that he cannot go back to the Shire as he knew it, that he is a different person, and he cannot fully live in peace after gone through such a long and hard journey. "Sometimes there are wounds that never heal."
Sometimes I think the hardest part of living internationally is coming home. You are a different person. You try to adapt back into society while also not losing what you have learned in your time away.
But then comes the thought, "Sarah, what's best for you, and your state of being?" I know it isn't making myself endure doing nothing all day everyday at the office. Perumal and Lalida would be disappointed at me going away early. I feel like I would be disappointed in myself a bit. And then I'd feel like I would have to calmly explain to most people, "Look, I didn't come back early because I couldn't handle it, but because I would die a slow and painful emotional death if I continued to sit at work reading newspapers and playing solitaire all day." (I actually think they would be glad I returned for my mental health, but the insecure part of me disagrees).
At the same time, the thought of coming home and being satisfied with myself and knowing it was the right thing for me to do, despite of others' thoughts, sounds refreshing. I totally know the people I trust, (Ann, Mom, Kenzie, you're included in this) would agree with that.
Ugh. Ugh. UGH. DAMMIT!! PUTAIN!!! (Mom, don't look up the meaning of putain…but, it's a French bad word that I learned, I'll just say that.)
I'm watching Sita now, my favorite person here. I love her a lot. I don't want to leave her.
I have often spoke to my friends who have also spent time living abroad (Maggie, Ann, Heather, Natalie, Jay, the list goes on) about why we love learning about other cultures so much, and yet most of us seem to be outsiders to our own society. Maybe that's why we love other cultures. We immerse ourselves in them and make connections. We feel more connected with them than in our native culture. Yet if we do feel like an outsider wherever we visit, it is not because of our social or emotional differences or insecurities, but because of our nationality or skin color. It is much more affirming than feeling like an outsider in our own communities.
In the end, maybe going home, and not staying here to endure boredom, is what the Lord wants me to experience and to struggle with.
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