Expectations and Faith

Site announcements were this week. We found out where we are going on Monday night. To give you an idea of the kind of anxiety leading up to site announcements, let me provide a brief synopsis of the narrow ramp without rails we have been negotiating.

For virtually all 35 of us (FRE 8's - Fiji Re-entry class #8), there was at least a one year span from application to departure for Fiji. For that year, we didn't know what region of the world we would be going to, let alone the country. When we finally received our invitation for Fiji, it became a whirlwind of preparing for departure - wrapping up all of our affairs. Imagine clearing your schedule for 27 months - bills, obligations, ties, relationships, everything. The enormity of what you are getting into hasn't even begun to settle in. You just know you're going (in this case literally) halfway around the world, pretty much on blind faith. For the year leading up, you think about it a lot, but you don't really know what to think about. It's a surreal process. But once the invite comes, you've got 6-8 weeks to clear the schedule, so you're dealing with that and beginning to realize just how much you don't know what you are getting yourself into.

Departure comes, you say goodbye. If you are a human being, you shed a lot of tears. For me, both of my daughters gave me letters to read when they dropped me at the airport. When I read them it was a watershed moment (in more ways than one - pardon the pun) in that they put into words what so many struggle to command - in a word, faith. They believe in me, in themselves, and in us as a family. Those letters have, and will, carry me through so much of this. It's staggering . . .

So, composure returns (then and now). You land in Fiji. You get on a bus. You go swim in the ocean (because they want to know you can). You spend 3-4 days in this blur of camp-like setting. And then you go to your host family and you begin to settle in. The novelty is gone. You are here. It is poor. You shower in a bucket. You are expected to do a lot of things to accommodate culture - things like drink grog, sit on the floor all the time, try and learn a new language, and live in a world seemingly without walls where privacy is concerned.

Immersion is a very interesting thing. It is so consuming you don't seem to miss things. I think we always miss people. We miss people when they're in the next room. Sometimes we miss them the most when they are lying next to us in bed. But the culture thing is different. Exactly that. Different. You still clean your body, it's just different. You eat. But it's different. And you adapt incredibly quickly. Time is redefined. Money is completely redefined (more on that a little later). Anyway, point is, you are IN IT. And you begin to realize they are soon going to tell you where you are going to be for 2 years. Exactly where. The name of the village or city. Whether you will be living alone or with another volunteer. If you will have electricity and/or running water (or not) for 2 years. And what kind of work you'll be doing. For 2 years.

2 years.

So, there is some anxiety leading up to site announcements. Unlike everything else in the Peace Corps, they actually consult you for this part of the process.. They want you to be successful (read: don't leave the country and adapt) wherever they send you. So there are two interviews with your program manager talking about the work and placement. Being Peace Corps though, these interviews are vague. After the first of these, I was certain of where I was going ("where" being either urban or rural). After the second one, I was less certain. But I got to voice my thoughts, preferences and desires regarding all sorts of things. The kind of work I want to do. That I want to be urban for a variety of reasons. I gave really compelling reasoning for everything that we talked about. It really makes perfect sense for me to be in Suva working for the Ministry of Health or the Ministry of Eduation. I won't get into the details here. It just makes perfect sense.

Expectations are also very interesting. I have come to work really hard at minimizing them in general, and the depth of them when I am aware of them. I know that in this process, I was aware of really trying to keep a lid on them. I am fond of saying (not my original thought) that expectations are resentments in training. But I'm beginning to believe that some expectations are a lot like falling in love. I know that for me there have been times in my life when falling in love, there's this game I have played with myself - when there's the uncertainty of whether the other person is feeling the same way, or if they can meet me the way I wish to be met. I start putting conditions on the relationship so early. Like, "well, if she doesn't feel this way about me, then I'm going to not have these feelings anymore and it won't hurt" (ha!) or "I don't want to get my hopes up" when my hopes are through the roof. The truth is I feel what I feel. I am in love. I can pretend all I want and it's not going to make any difference in the amount of pain I will experience if she can't . . .

So, like I said, it makes perfect sense for me to be in Suva working for the Ministry of Health. Politicking, convincing, figuring out systems, writing curriculum, training large groups of people, etc. All things I'm really good at.

Except that I am going to a very small, rural village to a new site for Peace Corps with no real job description and a very unclear set of objectives.

For 2 years.

Oh, I was in love. I had my hopes up. I had expectations. I was in Suva. I honestly didn't know I had the expectations until I saw the piece of paper showing me the location of the village I am going to. As I write this, it's been almost a week and I'm still learning how deep the expectations were. During the two days after site announcements, I was around all of these (mostly) really young, (mostly) really happy, people, most of whom were drinking a lot.

For site announcements, we spent 3 nights in a really nice hotel in Suva. Kind of a resort. Showers with hot water (Oh My!). A swimming pool. On the ocean. Variety of food. And a lot of alcohol. And the FRE 7's (the PCV's who came last year) were there as well. Of the 35 of us (FRE 8's), there is only one other that seemed as stunned as I was. Mostly, people are thrilled with their placements. The surfer guy (he brought 4 boards with him) is going to surf paradise. The Jodie Foster water environmental chick is going to the best dive spot in Fiji. And yes, there is the guy going to Suva to immerse into the mental health system in the Ministry of Health (I didn't even know the specific job existed).

The last week has been very up and down. I have been writing this entry in bits and pieces during the week. I have a commitment to be honest about my process in these writings, but have to be careful not to succumb to negativity - or more precisely, not to succumb to my will - what I think is the best thing for me. But before I go to faith, I will vent a smidgen more. In everything I wrote to the PC regarding the kind of work I wanted to do, I was very consistent in wanting to work for the Ministry of Health or Ministry of Education - specifically in any drug/alcohol prevention education programs. Yesterday, I was walking around and saw the front page headline on the Fiji Times - "28% Increase in Alcohol Use among Primary Students". An official was quoted with words like epidemic, our youth is at risk, etc. Right up my alley. But it would appear, not to be - at least for now.

Then there's the whole language thing - where urban makes a lot more sense because of the prevalence of English as the spoken language. The village I'm going to speaks a completely different dialect than the one I have (not) been learning. Ahhhhhhhhhhhh!!!

Where am I going? Just outside of a small city (really a town) called Sigatoka on the southern coast of Viti Levu (the biggest island). Sigatoka is a tourist center - the town nearest resorts on the coral coast, mostly patronized by Aussies. I will be about 3 kilometers inland from the town in a village called Nakabuta Village. 22 families. 78 people. They've never had a volunteer there before. I evidently will have water and electricity and there is internet connection available in town. My job description is generic boilerplate verbiage that's the same for any rural volunteer at a new site in Fiji - water, garbage, sanitation. Usually, this means that the village - and Peace Corps - has no idea of what is needed. Essentially, I am back in the place of not really knowing what to expect - I'll find out more when I get there (July 9th I believe).

Yes, I am disappointed. Some days, I am ok with the notion of not doing a lot of work - living a very quiet life in a small village, close to amenities, close to tourists, etc. But the truth is, a major reason I joined the Peace Corps was to work. In talking with FRE 7's and FRE 6's, a lot of them talk about how much they DON'T work. A couple even said they're not here to work - they are enjoying their time here and taking advantage of the time they have. Many speak of boredom. I knew this was a distinct possibility when I applied for PC. So now, I deal with a new set of expectations, and the game in my head begins again. And of course, the truth is I don't know - anything really.

So what of faith? That is the question I am currently wrestling with. There are many forms to the question. One being, WTF am I doing here? :-) (which I'm sure some of you are asking). But the more thoughtful one is "Will I be available to see the signs?" - the clear signals that in retrospect are almost always present if we are willing to see. Or will I be too caught up in what I think I am missing out on to see? Being open to the idea that the "why's" won't be answered on my schedule - in fact not until much after the fact, or I may never receive what I consider to be a satisfactory answer - that has never been part of my equation until the last 2-3 years. I know that this newfound faith (if you will) is fragile, easily injured, but hopefully not quickly shattered.

Moce for now.

~MP~