Maybe this is a blog about Christmas, I havent decided yet. A quick warning, I am writing this, typing rather on a computer in a small cramped internet cafe without air conditioning while the owner is blasting and singing to tipico music on a spanish keyboard, close to every word I type is underlined in a read squiggly and I have under thirty minutes left, so if the grammar or spelling is worse than ususal, it is only because I rely too heavily on spell check.
Christmas in Panama was nothing like Christmas in the United States, but then again, my Christmas experience in the United States is nothing like the general Christmas practices of the majority of citizens in our fine country.
I am not going to describe word for word my recent Christmas experience, because like I said Ive only got thirty minutes and I would get very bored with that. Here are some key words and phrases to describe my recent holiday experiences. Sweaty, whiskey, chicken decapitation, poker, whiskey, hats, yo-yo. I think that is sufficent and paints a wonderful picture. Voy a seguir, those words arent squigglied. These are.Anyway.
What I am wanting to share is how Christmas feels to me, not hot and humid, but emotionally. I dont feel as though I am a person who loves Christmas as much as I love the idea of Christmas, and not the true meaning of Christmas, I like that Christmas is a day with presents and food, a day where you give you love to others in a solid, tangible way and it isnt weird. I like that at Christmas families suddenly grow and morph to include almost anyone. Christmas is acceptance and understanding (ideally). I like that about Christmas. And I had that here.
Christmas, to me, is not snow (luckily), or Jesus, or Santa Claus. Christmas is a day to be happy with people I love, or at least enjoy the company of, and I have that here in Panama, and I had it the US, in Michigan, in Ohio, California. I could have Christmas anywhere at anytime with any combination of food, loved ones, gifts, or alcohol and it would still be Christmas to me.
I am not sure this blog makes sense, but I am not sure that I make any sense eiether. What I am saying not so eloquently or even efficently is that I had a great Christmas, and I am lucky to have a life filled with so many wonderful and welcoming people all around the world at Christmas time, and always.
Im out of internet time and I have a boat to catch, but Happy Holidays to everyone, everywhere, except maybe Blackhawks fans. Just kidding... ish...
Saturday, December 27, 2014
Wednesday, December 3, 2014
The truth about life.
I started writing on paper today because I was upset by what seemed like a never ending chain of a million tiny problems one right after the other, an unconscious stream of sadness and rage from a lack of sleep to a lack of money, dishonesty, rude employees, obnoxious bus drivers, slowness in the office, perceived injustice, a cold from nowhere, an excruciatingly long wait for a boat, ant infested cockroache infested food, and invaded privacy. I wrote it, ink on paper, college ruled, line after line, the kind of writing you don’t share with others because it is sad, depressing, raw. Its whiny, makes you look weak, it shatters the illusion of the perfect life typed up in blogs and reflected in shiny white smiles in photographs. Nobody likes complaining, in person, let alone uploaded to the internet. We like happiness and we like absolute tragedy, there’s no space in-between to share a rough day. Don’t tell me about your obstacles until you’ve crushed them or they’ve crushed you. Let your problems stew within you, bottle up the demons, bottle up the darkness, one little problem at a time, let them fill you slowly until all you see in the world is suffering and inconvenience.
I was going to procrastinate this blog and write about how great everything has been, like always. Save the world, myself from reality. But hey, fuck that.
Sometimes life sucks, but living doesn’t suck. I am unhappy today and it is my own fault, it is the fault of Panamanians, the fault of Americans, it is the fault of people in charge of me, my neighbors, friends, bacteria. I am unhappy and sometimes I am just unhappy. I am not going to complain about all of my problems, and I am not going to bad mouth anybody, because sometimes other people are unhappy, stressed, overworked. Sometimes we are unlucky, we make the wrong decisions. Sometimes we are exhausted. Its cloudy, it rains. Life.
Today I doubted my service, I second guessed being in Panama, I tried to decide whether I actually wanted to be here, or if I am just too proud to quit. I contemplated whether my service is challenging or actually miserable. Is what I am doing here worth my time, will I live up to expectations of my community, my boss, my country? Do I even care to help people, who don’t seem to help themselves? Do I feel invested in a community where I cannot share any aspect of my personality? This isn’t the first time I’ve asked myself these questions, and I really doubt it will be the last considering I haven’t found any answers.
What I did find was an envelope of post it notes written by both Panamanians and other PCVs that had been squished and wrinkled and left unread, forgotten in my bag during all the adventures I had following the seminar. And on the post it notes I read praise for my spirit, positivity, and energy. While I do not feel as though I am living up to the praise at this moment. I remembered that people, PCVs, Panama, LIFE is beautiful. Life makes us unhappy sometimes and it can suck, but in the end life is living. Because I am alive, I am lucky, happy even when I am unhappy.
And so at any rate, I will still be here, but I just want to say it is hard sometimes, really hard. And if you’re reading this blog, there is a ninety percent chance that I miss you very much and really appreciate everything you have done for me, whether a smile, a letter, a loan, a hug. There is a ten percent chance you’re planning on or contemplating joining the Peace Corps, and I don’t mean to sound like a recruitment poster, but if you decide Peace Corps service is for you, it will be the toughest job you will ever love. Go out there and live life.
P.S. The volcano, Chiriqui, Thanksgiving, the beach, and the Comarca were great. Thanks to everyone who took me in for a night or two, and showed me the west side. I am so lucky to be in such a solid group of great people.
I was going to procrastinate this blog and write about how great everything has been, like always. Save the world, myself from reality. But hey, fuck that.
Sometimes life sucks, but living doesn’t suck. I am unhappy today and it is my own fault, it is the fault of Panamanians, the fault of Americans, it is the fault of people in charge of me, my neighbors, friends, bacteria. I am unhappy and sometimes I am just unhappy. I am not going to complain about all of my problems, and I am not going to bad mouth anybody, because sometimes other people are unhappy, stressed, overworked. Sometimes we are unlucky, we make the wrong decisions. Sometimes we are exhausted. Its cloudy, it rains. Life.
Today I doubted my service, I second guessed being in Panama, I tried to decide whether I actually wanted to be here, or if I am just too proud to quit. I contemplated whether my service is challenging or actually miserable. Is what I am doing here worth my time, will I live up to expectations of my community, my boss, my country? Do I even care to help people, who don’t seem to help themselves? Do I feel invested in a community where I cannot share any aspect of my personality? This isn’t the first time I’ve asked myself these questions, and I really doubt it will be the last considering I haven’t found any answers.
What I did find was an envelope of post it notes written by both Panamanians and other PCVs that had been squished and wrinkled and left unread, forgotten in my bag during all the adventures I had following the seminar. And on the post it notes I read praise for my spirit, positivity, and energy. While I do not feel as though I am living up to the praise at this moment. I remembered that people, PCVs, Panama, LIFE is beautiful. Life makes us unhappy sometimes and it can suck, but in the end life is living. Because I am alive, I am lucky, happy even when I am unhappy.
And so at any rate, I will still be here, but I just want to say it is hard sometimes, really hard. And if you’re reading this blog, there is a ninety percent chance that I miss you very much and really appreciate everything you have done for me, whether a smile, a letter, a loan, a hug. There is a ten percent chance you’re planning on or contemplating joining the Peace Corps, and I don’t mean to sound like a recruitment poster, but if you decide Peace Corps service is for you, it will be the toughest job you will ever love. Go out there and live life.
P.S. The volcano, Chiriqui, Thanksgiving, the beach, and the Comarca were great. Thanks to everyone who took me in for a night or two, and showed me the west side. I am so lucky to be in such a solid group of great people.
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