Monday, October 18, 2010

Autumn: Then vs. Now

October in Oregon is a turbulent mix of weather and emotions for me. Past October mornings were spent basking in the glory of a hot shower. The pinnacle of this humid mini-vacation occurred in college when my roommate Ian bought me a shower chair for my 22nd birthday. Some friends were skeptical (including Ian), falsely operating under the impression that shower chairs were only for the old and enfeebled. They would start “well I just assumed that…” and I would rudely interrupt, curtailing even the most self righteous of acquaintances with words of wisdom from my omniscient grandmother. “Assuming makes and ass out of you and me!” Then I’d lock them in the bathroom until they felt the urge to bathe. Don’t worry, I wouldn’t actually lock them in the bathroom. But I would throw some caustic or rancid substance on their person, which would then necessitate self-cleaning. Well I wouldn’t do that with any regularity. But I would write them a harshly worded letter of disappointment (WHY DON’T YOU TRUST ME!??) or encouragement (YOU SMELL LIKE JABBA THE HUTT’S FAT FLAP), assuming I could find my thesaurus. Anyways, after I’ve finished the actual bathing portion of my shower, all I want to do is sit down and relax. But nobody wants to just sit down in the tub. That’s weird. Thus, my desire for a shower chair was born. I had actually forgotten this long lost love of mine. Guyana has a way of curbing all enthusiasm for hot things. (I mean temperature hot, not spicy hot.) But the last week in September, I was staying at a hotel in Georgetown with all the remaining GUY 22 volunteers for a workshop. (Each year another group of volunteers arrives, I’m in the 22nd group, which is abbreviated GUY 22) The rooms had AC, which was fantastic. And I had my first hot shower in eight months. In my mind’s eye, I pictured my shower chair, and whispered “I yearn for you tragically” as I stood in the scalding water until my skin was red and blotchy. It was glorious. This particular workshop was to mark 6 months since we moved to our respective sites all across the country. The focus was on project design and management, or PDM as I will refer to it, since Peace Corps is really into acronyms. We were all asked to bring a co-worker, a Guyanese native that we felt would be a good asset. I brought a nurse from the clinic I work at.



This is June. And she is probably one of my favorite people down here. We’re good friends, talking and joking all the time. The biggest benefit of teaming up with June is that she tells it like it is, and if I have a bad idea, or perhaps my behavior isn’t culturally acceptable, she politely rectifies my social faux pas. We usually travel up to the clinic in the same vehicle, and one morning, I failed to notice her waiting across the street. When I told her this, she replied “Tony, I’m too big for you to miss!” She also knows EVERYBODY and yells at my students if they get too aggressive. Overall, I would consider the workshop successful. June and I made some tentative plans and jotted down ideas for the elderly club at the clinic. Over the next six months, we hope to double the number of participants, and get at least a quarter of them on some sort of regular exercise regimen. Monday was the third meeting of the elderly club since its inception. There were some new participants this time, and the group seems to be slowly growing in size, which is encouraging. People expressed their desire to have this club, and even expressed some ideas about what direction they’d like it to go. This is extremely reassuring for me, as I want the club to be a sustainable venture, and by helping the participants to take ownership of it, the likelihood of it continuing after I’m gone is much higher. One man came in, and we’d spoken before, but it had been about 5 weeks. He’s a hypertensive patient, and had some questions about dietary modifications. He told me that he followed my dietary suggestions, and he was actually feeling much better. In my head, I did a fist pump and yelled ‘VICTORY!!’ He’s struggled with hypertension for some time, and he was feeling so good, he had lowered the dosage of his blood pressure medication. When I measured his blood pressure at the clinic that day, it was down 20 points from what it was a month ago. He and I were both extremely pleased. I’ll go ahead and put a check in the ‘win’ column for that one. It was also a fresh reminder that I don’t have to build a monument here. The seemingly small victories are actually pretty substantial.

But just like that, it’s the middle of October. Back home this time of year, I embrace the cooler days and nights, because that means that my favorite season is fast approaching. I do love winter, but Fall and I have shared heated words before. When I was a child, I remember running outside in October to bask in the glory of Mr. Sun, then yelling up at the sky, cursing the fates for mocking me with this glorious spectral orb as my fingers cramped and turned red, impeding my videogame performance, which in turn made me a cranky panda. “Isn’t the sun supposed to be warm??!!?” I wailed emphatically, and since nobody likes a moody seven year old, I’m fairly certain my parents were tempted to give me a battery to lick in the hopes that my tongue would short circuit so I’d stop being such a whiny little bastard. As an adult, however, I secretly (or not so secretly) get more excited because as the weather turns colder, it means I can wear all my cool hats and jackets and things. In this place, I’m more concerned with fetid and oppressive sweat stains than I am with looking fashionable while staying warm. As I conclude my 8th month in this place, time feels stagnant with no discernible change in weather patterns, temperature, or daylight. The sun rises and sets at the same time everyday, and its regularity makes me a little antsy. But I got another break from the day-to-day grind of regular work the first week of October. We here in Peace Corps Guyana put out a quarterly newsletter called The GAFF. Gaffing is a Guyanese colloquial phrase that simply means to talk or chat. I am one of four staff members who stays in Georgetown for a few days to write and compile articles, pictures, news, etc. So I actually got TWO WHOLE WEEKS of hot showers and air conditioning! I felt pretty spoiled. There are two volunteers from GUY 21, and two from GUY 22, including myself. Once GUY 21 leaves, I’ll be the editor in chief of this humble little newsletter. I really enjoy the work, and I’ll try to get an electronic copy for any of you who are interested.

I’ve started to compartmentalize my remaining time here, and it makes everyday feel like a small step towards a great achievement. Next month, I’m going up to Georgetown with my neighbor Dick to watch some motorcycles races. Then at the end of November, my housemate Sara’s family is coming to visit. The first week of December, I’ll be in Barbados for a weeklong vacation and half marathon (training is still going well!), then it’s jesus’ birthday. Just now, it’s going to be 2011, where two of my good friends are coming to visit! Then I turn 25, then my best good friend Robin turns 25, and I’ll have been in Guyana for one whole year! In March, GUY 22 will have our mid-service training. There will be de-worming medicine and stool samples aplenty! Shortly after that, I’ll be home for a visit! By the time I return to Guyana, I’ll have 8 short months remaining. Not that I’m counting or anything. Overall, this has been a positive experience, full of challenges well beyond the scope of my most loosely defined comfort zones.

The Peace Corps is almost 50. Here’s some recommended reading for you all! Despite all the time that’s passed and all the individuals that have served all over the world, many of the emotions these returned volunteers describe are the exact same sentiments I feel here today. Check it out!

http://articles.chicagotribune.com/2010-10-09/news/ct-met-peacecorps-20101009_1_peace-corps-volunteers-sikh

Oh, and Happy Halloween!