of stress

3 July 2008
I think it’s time I wrote a little bit about the stress of this whole deal. It’s huge. But it’s tiny all at the same time. "Death by a thousand slices," as my dad says. The funny thing is, I didn’t even realize how stressed I was until the doctor called me on it. Well, she introduced the idea that my seemingly never-ending gastrointestinal issues may be caused by poorly handled stress being internalized. I thought, no way! I mean, I’m a Macalester grad. We thrive on stress. Or maybe that’s just what we thought and we were just fooling ourselves… seemed to work fine then. Anyway, suffice it to say, my stress has never manifested itself in my intestines before. Be that as it may, the thought stuck with me, so I re-evaluated. And discovered that I am, at times, as stressed as I ever have been. Now, before you panic, all my moms, hear me out. J Realizing that you are stressed is a good thing! It means I can take measures against it. Like allowing myself more sleep, more chocolate, and giving myself permission to draw necessary boundaries, and reminding myself of the importance of being disciplined in time management and prayer time.
What exactly is the deal? Well, one big thing is the time change. The Moroccan government decided to put the country on Daylight Savings time. So, for the first time in some 17 or so years, the official Moroccan clock moved an hour ahead. However, since the vast majority of rural Moroccans never worried about official time much in the first place, what happened was that everything happens at the same time it did before, but that clock reads an hour later. So dinner, late for me at 11pm before is now VERY late at 12 am. Give or take a half hour.
Other things are cultural… and health related (having your GI health fluctuate every couple of days is stressful!)… and I do miss all of you at home (although I’ve realized that there is no one place, not even one state in the US, not even one country! where I can be close to everyone I love/care about)… and it is harder being spiritually isolated this time around… because religion is such a huge part of this culture, and I am accustomed to being a part of the religious culture wherever I am. When I was in Tanzania, I found a church home. Except in the field but that was only a month and anyway I had GREAT friends who would talk to me and listen to me talk about religion, faith, etc. (I appreciate you so much more right now Susie and Leigh…). At Mac and at home I had wonderful church/spiritual families (you know who you are!). So between all that…
That’s that deal. Word from the older PCVs is that homestay is the hardest part of service—and I can’t say how much I am looking forward to eating dinner at 9:30 at night (or even earlier… hee hee) again in my own place in about a month—so that’s good to know. I have also recently learned that in many countries, PCVs live with host families for the whole two years. All you out there that do that have my undying respect. It’s not that host families are bad people… no, it’s just that it’s really different. We were independent, Western adults, and now we are feeling like teenagers in a new culture. We push for freedom, we want to control when we eat, sleep and what we do with our days. And our host families want us safe and for us to behave according to their culture. See the conflict? It’s just hard. Period. Even for me, and I have possibly the best host family ever. So I eat chocolate, am learning yoga and pilates, and take naps and pray. Which is actually the thing that helps the most in a tight spot. J