11 June, 2018
These past couple of days have been really rough. I try to keep all of my posts positive, but the reality of my life here is that it is not always positive. Actually, it’s really hard sometimes. 6 days ago, I went on a two-day field trip with all my students. I arrived back home in my village to constant rain and no electricity; although, luckily, I still had phone service for most of the night. I am now on day 5 with no electricity and haven’t had phone service in 3ish days. If I’m lucky, electricity/phone service will come back for a couple of hours, and I can quickly catch up on missed phone calls and messages.
It really sucks.
Peace Corps volunteers often talk about being lonely. It’s actually the thing I hear about the most. Luckily for me, I haven’t really struggled with feeling lonely except here and there, in small spurts. Until now. Constant rain and almost no interaction with the outside world bring loneliness to a whole new level. I walk outside every day and see people I love and want to have conversations with, but I can’t. Sometimes, I start to talk about something with the one almost fluent English speaker here, but then I stop myself because stories and jokes lose so much meaning when you have to explain everything. I want you to know that everyone here is very kind to me and helps me with everything. A few people try so hard to learn English/teach me Thai, and talk to me all the time, and I appreciate it more than anything. But it’s so hard not being able to pick up the phone and call my mom or my friends. It’s so hard trying to explain to people what it’s like being without electricity and phone service all the time because no one seems to get it. It’s so hard just wanting to make a cup of hot tea or read a book without worrying about my phone dying, or having to hold a dim flashlight between my chin and chest, all the while with giant bugs flying at me because this is the only light they can find.
Tonight, I broke my only cup on my tiled bedroom floor. I found my dying phone and turned on the flashlight so I wouldn’t step on the glass in my pitch-dark room. I was so frustrated that I couldn’t see anything, and then I started to think about all the people in the world who live their whole lives like this. Or people who have ordinary lives and then everything is taken from them, either by other humans or natural disasters, and their lives are forced to become like this (well, worse). I was feeling sad but also grateful that I am lucky enough to understand that this is a frustrating situation, so I wrote a Facebook status about it. Right as I was about to press ‘post,’ my phone lost service. And I just started to cry. I was just sitting on my bed, with my broken cup in a pile by my feet, sobbing because I couldn’t post my stupid Facebook status. Honestly, I feel kind of ashamed struggling so hard with this, especially because it’s only been a couple of days, and I barely even want to get on Facebook when I do have service. But… the reality is, this is how I feel; this is my loneliness, and it is so hard.
A couple weeks ago, I was on a bus heading back to my village. I was so happy because I had just had a really wonderful weekend with friends I hadn’t seen in months. I remember looking out the window at the mountains and thinking, “I’m grateful for the hard moments because they make moments like this so much greater.” I’m going to keep holding on to that.
P.s. “Fai dtap” means power is out, and I hear it almost every day.
Note: I wrote this on Monday, and soon after, my computer and phone died. Electricity and power never returned nor did the sunshine. I decided I wasn’t going to let myself drown in the rain, so I started going on long walks every day with anyone who would join me. Today (Friday), I was able to leave my village and come to Chiang Mai City, where I am basking in sunshine and the artificial light of my hostel. Although this week has been tough, I made it through with many happy moments and much laughter with students and teachers. It can only get easier, right?