oo-att is yor name?
I'm so dumb for not thinking of this sooner: Type the blog post in Word while you're waiting for the sites to load and THEN copy and paste.
Finally went to Dhaka (the capital city) for a day and a half. Dhaka is the place where volunteers go to hang out, have American fun, buy stuff they need/want/crave, and occasionally engage in some form of debauchery. There is a Pizza Hut and a few other restaurants in that vein, and never have I tasted anything so wonderful as this. Believe it or not, rice 3X a day can get old. There was also a real live party quite similar to the ones back at home. This one was at the Marine House, which means it was Marines and Peace Corps volunteers (throw in a few Bangladeshi prostitutes and some weirdo ex-pats). It was great to crack a few beers again and play a little air hockey.
Getting very people-d out, I am. Answering the same 12 questions 20 times a day was novel for about a day and a half. It's actually quite arresting, the lack of originality of the questions you'll get. Just once, I want someone to ask:
"So whadja think of Sideways? Me, I saw it twice. Thought it was great, Paul Giamatti always cracks me up. And that other chick who's now on Gray's Anatomy, what's her name . . . ? She was good too. Not in my top ten, but one of the best of last year I think. Made me not want to drink Merlot -- oh, hey, by the way, did you hear that movie caused a measurable decline in Merlot sales? Yeah, some people must have been pissed. I would have been. So are you going on Friday? Yeah, I'm gonna try, some of my other friends want me to go to this housewarming, but I'll probably duck outa that as soon as I can . . . so I'll probably see you there. Yeah . . this is my stop, see you later!"
instead of:
"Watt is yor contree?"
Is that so much to ask?
-Yes.
Crap.
But it's all good; I'll lock myself in my room for an afternoon here one of these days and I'll be right as rain again. I don't mean to complain. Complaining is kind of a way of life for PCV's around here. And there's a fine line between letting off a little steam about a culture that you're committed to loving for the next two years, and just plain bitching. I'm trying to keep from the latter, but it does come in abundant supply. Positivity. The problem that I am attempting to remedy (and advice on which I am desirous of) is how to have the ENERGY to want to talk to all of these people on a day. I feel like such a jerk when I hear some little kids going "HI!" or "HOW ARE YOO!?" and I don't even feel like raising my head to say hello. Not that I'm an extremely bad person, but I have noticed other volunteers who can pull this off much better than I can. They stop, smile, talk in crappy Bangla, spend an extra 5 minutes -- and they do this like 15 times a day. I've usually got 2 or 3 in me. So I'm trying to work up to 15.
Baby steps.
Anyone got any thoughts on the hurricanes? I'm curious to know what discussions are going on.
posted by Adam @ 4:01 AM
13 Comments:
oh adam, you glitch...
I may know a tiny tiny tiny bit how you feel towards the children from working in Mexico and just wishing they'd dissapear.
I don't really have any thoughts on hurricanes, but I do know that the lightning and thunder that is shaking our house right now is a little freaky.
Hey Assface! How's it going? I was glad to see ya bloggin. It kinda helps you feel in touch with the old life ey? At least it does for me here in Merry Ol' England. Man I don't really know what to say. I don't know much about the hurricanes, but it's interesting to watch over here. I'm glad you had a good itme in Dhaka, and I hope that you either get your afternoon locked in your room or obtain the energy you wish for. I won't pretend I know how you feel, but I spend much time in my room here. Always being new to things and people can be exhausting. I send hugs in goodbye!
Heather, what's your blog URL?
What's up Adam. I've been meaing to post for a while, but this will be short.
First, with regard to "oo-att is your name" (I can really relate to your small talk-gripes this week. I'm at a nerd-fest in Texas this week for work.) Follow the link below for more on this one:
http://www.theatlantic.com/doc/200303/rauch
Secondly, with regard to motavational posters:
http://www.thinkgeek.com/cubegoodies/posters/despair/65bf/zoom/
Gotta go, talk to you soon. Thanks for the blog man.
~Matt (Hilden)
Hey boy. Here is the deal: Life is not about you. Not to be harsh, but it is true. Sometimes you need to be there for others even when you don't have the energy. I know you don't have kids, and likely won't for some time, but try to imagine for a moment someone who depends on you--I mean really depends on you. What would you do if they were depending on you and you were out of energy? You would be there for them.
In a way, the people you come into contact with every day depend on you. And sometimes you will need to decide to be there for them despite the way you feel. But you also need to know how to feed yourself--not in the rice or the Pizza Hut sense, but in a more spiritual sense. You have your music and your internet access and hopefully a good book or two. (And if not I'll send you a good book or two.) Remember to enjoy that stuff at least a little every day or every week. Make room for you to think and dream and learn and be and then let the rest of your time be not about you but about those who are around you. After awhile it will become habit and it won't feel like work and it won't take as much energy.
About the hurricanes---they suck. Lots of people's lives suck. The government response sucks. The only good thing is meeting people who have been evacuated and now live here. It is cool to see how strong and alive people can be when their lives are filled with turmoil and struggle. But the whole situation still sucks.
Anyway...try to stay positive. Sometimes being around positive people is the best way to do that, but it doesn't sound like there are many around you, eh? Good luck with that.
Makes sense. It's true, I don't really know much about the self-sacrifice it takes to have a family, or a lot of other things, for that matter. But it's hard, frankly, to really care about other people in an authentic way, not just in the I-want-to-feel-like-a-good-person-so-I-do-nice-things way. That's no excuse, but I think it's true.
Ever seen Donnie Darko? Y'know how Grandma Death tells Donnie, "Every living thing dies alone"? See, to be honest, I have a hard time not coming back to that. When it all comes down, it's only me inside this head/body. I want to learn how to care (or care more), but I have a hard time getting my head around it. Maybe getting one's head around it is an erroneous task to begin with, but there you go.
But back to your suggestion (which sounds good, by the way): Has it for you been a matter of sort of earmarking or allocating that self-time, then recognizing that the rest of your life is self-less-time? I have a hard go of it figuring out when I should tend to myself and when I should be there for the people around me. The way it is here, you can choose to "be there" for the Bangladeshis at any time, because they're always around you and always want to talk. So for me it ends up a jumble of good will, narcissism, and apathy. So I like this idea of knowing what time is recharge time and what time is for "them." But then again, maybe all of this trying to figure it out and "allocate" is just one big intellectual wank anyway and it's just a matter of DOING it instead of nailing it down.
Anyone who "cares" to weigh "in" on "this", please do . . "."
Thanx for the links, Matt. Nice.
Now that I'm 50+ and my eldest daughter is fast approaching Adam's age, I look back at my own backpacking visits to South Asia in 1979-82 and reminisce with laughter at Adam's discoveries. The place: Varanasi, at the Dak Bungalows cantonment/campsite. With my then girlfriend (now wife of 23 yrs) on my third visit and her first. Leaving the campsite by the front gate and accosted by 30 rickshaw peddlers (or should that be pedalers?), my equilibrium tipped over and I invited them all to "B*gger off". Girlfriend looks in horror at this previously repressed and unseen streak of ill-temper and wonders quietly to herself about future with this cranky creep. Two days later, same venue, same event, same companion - and she shouted "P*ss off and leave us alone". I smiled knowingly. After that we made a pact and always left the campsite by climbing the fence - it just seemed easier and more polite.
Hey,
www.livejournal.com/users/dancingwithjoy
Hope you're doing well.
Hugs again
Adam, you are so trendy hip and cool for doing this blog. Your writings are not so much inspiring as they are inspirational. I appreciate that. I am tempted to not leave my name, and make you wonder forever who wrote this oh so clever comment (you know you think it's oh so clever) but I'll give you a hint: the box office is back open and I'm bored to tears and started cleaning out my email and found your blog email and thus resulting in this tres tres clever post comment thing.
Okay. I didn't actually read any of your blogs, just randomly one sentance about explosive diarreah . . . mmm . . . great. I'll get to them tomorrow. All the best, my far away friend. Stop getting the shits.
CLG
Hey buddy,
First off, why are others calling you assface? I thought that was special. Secondly, I like your old hand friend. Seems like an interesting cat, but I'm pretty sure rickshaw's aren't pedal powered. Third, Christy type too long me not read all. Fourth, shouldn't it be "Shay yesh to..."? Fifth, I think you get those stupid questions everywhere. I have had to explain a million times where I'm from and holland and nannying and thesis and blah blah blah. People just want to know, and I'm not sure why. But I have found there seems to be a compitition among America's hip youth to be original and interesting and quirky. For example, I ran into some kid at a party at Andrew Hoeker's house and he informed me that he was taking a semester off to live in a house that has half "normal" people and half disabled people in it. He found it really challenging, yet really rewarding. What is that? We are competing to be interesting. So it seems the Bengalis are probably curious because you are white, while the PCers are curious because they want to be more interesting. But I guess what I am saying is it happens every-stinkin-where, man. And sixth, Laremy type too long. I gotta go, got a job at a coffee shop again and Becca and I are about to move in to a shitty apartment. Hurrah!
You want interesting, the other day I was driving through the Austin neighborhood, which some say looks worse now than it did during the race riots, at least in some places. Well I passed a storefront church, which was painted bright yellow and said, "Need Chuuuuurrrch. 4 shizzle!" I found driving by to be really challenging, yet really rewarding. And I'm hoping by reading this you'll think my life is intersting, which it truly isn't.
I don't think I know old hand, but I hope he keeps posting.
Rickshaws, at least around here, are indeed pedal powered. People average about one major accident per year in them. Meaning, you run into someone or something else and get knocked out. Mud. Apparently rickshaw wallahs also are the local pot hookups . . . not that I'd care. Of course not.
Can't disagree with you about the "interesting" thing, Lerimee. I'd be lying if I didn't say I was pretty darned pleased with myself for doing something so "interesting" as PC Bangladesh. I look forward to having a leg up on my middle-age crisis. I don't know if it's naive to think one can overcome this kind of narcissism, though. Cynical?
4 shizzle.
Luke! We saw that same exact church--it's not far from my aunt's house. The name of the church is:
"I got 99 problems, 4 shizzle. (and on the side of the building) Don't be a church hater."
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