A Depressed Day on the Island (Edited Version)

August 21, 2008

Okay, I am just going to write. Handwriting a blog seems kind of pointless, but then again a) every single aspect of my life feels pointless today b) I’m going into Vila soon and and transcribing will be an infinitely less arduous task than composing something new, which I would undoubtedly feel obligated to do - but I can never write in Vila. I’m always far too busy and stressed and shell-shocked and…like…happy when I’m there…and then there’s, of course, c) I would be typing this, but quite suddenly, my laptop is unwilling to put forth the letters “S” “J” “G” and some others. I have NO idea why, other than that it’s lived too long in Vanuatu, where every Big Thing Always Works Out in the End, and every Small Thing that Can Go Wrong Does.

I will spare you the litany of Small Things that Have Gone Wrong Lately. It’ll make me seem petty.

I started writing because it occurred to me I could be suffering from Vitamin D deficiency (it’s been cloudy for a couple months) and should sit out in the sun for awhile, so I went outside and then remembered that sunlight makes me nauseous and anxious, and I am now safely hiding in my mosquito net in my bed - the only place in this country I can stay for more than ten minutes without experiencing an overwhelming urge to get somewhere else.

So, my mom called last week and asked if I was “feeling better” after the last blogs I got Bridget to post for me in July. I was incredulous. I mean, I don’t remember exactly what I wrote that long ago, but I am pretty sure it was one of my most upbeat and cheerful postings in awhile - at least I was feeling the most upbeat and cheerful I’d been in several months.

My mom asked if it could be my [anti-malarial] “medication”. I mean, I guess it could be, even though it’s been a year since I switched off the one that’ supposed to make you suicidal and to the one that’s just supposed to make you allergic to sun (oh! maybe that’s why I hate sunlight - nah, I always have…), even though when I take my pill after 1 p.m. I invariably have epic nightmares involving a lot of blood and guts and gore.

So Bridget (my BFFL fellow volunteer on the other side of the hill…you know, where the grass is always greener) was over that day, and when I got off the phone and told her about the conversation, we actually laughed about it. How can you explain to someone that’s not here, “No, no, I’m fine. It’s VANUATU that’s depressing. No, really, ask anyone!”

Now, in the old days I would have considered myself an Eternal Optimist, and in fact I still do - in matters completely removed from the Peace Corps Vanuatu experience. But here…well, it’s just not an appropriate strategy for living…

This is my general philosophy for living here, refined over the past sixteen months…

1. Assume everything you are told is a lie.
2. Assume no one will show up to anything.
3. Assume no one will ever pass a message.
4. Assume your flight will be cancelled.
5. Every ‘gift’ is a request in disguise.
6. Always assume people are spreading false rumours about you at any given moment.
7. Trust no one, as betrayal has a myriad of forms.

So here’s the thing. As bitter and jaded and offensive the above principles may seem to the the outside eye, I actually have found that adhering to them does make me happier, more compassionate, more effective at work, and generally more fun to be around - compared to when I was stupid enough to expect anything else from people.

Epiphany: it’s because everybody HERE operates under these assumptions too, so we’re finally on the same wavelength.

But, like, really, I’m not trying to be ironic or anything. I really am happier this way, or at least was, until this wwwk, where everything seems to have collapsed suddenly, but I think it’s just because I know I’m going into Vila soon and am therefore forced to acknowledge the sheer superiority of the Outside World. That and the fact that I am suddenly out of everything: toilet paper, candles, kerosene, food, conditioner, patience, faith, dish soap, stamps, etc.

Sigh…I was Doing So Well, too…

It recently occurred to me that life would be more enjoyable if I had a reason to get up in the morning. Because knowing you’ll be hungry eventually if you don’t isn’t the greatest impulse around which to base your whole existence. But the problem is, I can’t actually think of anything currently available to me that would make me want to get up. I’d bribe myself with chocolate but I’m out of that too.

Anyway, don’t get me wrong. I do get up in the morning…usually around six, and I make my way through my morning routine and Yoga practice. My practice is more consistent and stable than it has ever been, but I still dread it, and certainly never look forward to it.

I think tomorrow morning I’ll schedule playing with Play-Doh at 6:15 a.m.

[Editor’s note - I did]





I’m trying. Really.

Maybe I always led a depressed and pointless existence. Maybe I was just as frustrated, conflicted, self-hating and deeply unsatisfied in my Old Life - but at least I had tofu. And broccoli. And grapes. And Rolos. Okay, maybe I haven’t purchased a Rolo in 15+ years but I’d kill a pig for one right now.

And of course, there are all these personal benefits to being here, like having lots of time to do Yoga and contemplate everything I hate about myself, but it does seem like a…strange use of public funds. I mean, thanks, taxpayers, but surely you’d rather spend your money…not on my spiritual development. Think of how many young, virile soldiers you could be sending to Iraq right now instead…

Oh, a note from my split personality: I really do love Peace Corps and I strongly encourage every American to do it. You really can make a difference. I mean, I’m not, because I’m slothful and selfish, but it doesn’t have to be that way. Better People can certainly do awesome things with their two years, and I personally know several who are. So, write your congressman! Don’t cut the Peace Corps budget!

Seriously, please don’t confuse my personal woes with being a reflection of this institution. (Not being sarcastic,) I love Peace Corps, as an institution and as a community, with all my heart and hope to serve again in my life (hopefully with a husband, you know, so I’d have a reason to get up in the morning).

Just to put a bit of balance into this particular entry, so you get the full bipolar flavour of my Peace Corps experience, here are some of the highlights of the last month or so…

1) Independence Day-Week Festivities with my peeps Bridget & Travis. We gave out over 200 condoms, mostly to 15-year-old boys, which was a really inspirational eye-opener for me, since I had previously resigned myself to the fact that no one cares about safe sex. It turns out they do, they just don’t want to get beaten by their parents for admitting it. Fair enough.

2) “Mommy & Daddy: My Health is in Your Hands!” a modified (and greatly expanded) version of the nursery school program I did in June. But this time the poster has 58 hands on it traced in Magic Marker (thanks, Jackie!) And this time it involved a last-minute improvised one-woman theatre-in-the-round performance by yours truly, with, of course, my indispensable support team (Bridget & Travis) chiming in for the chorus of the hit single “I’m Washing My Hands!”. God, I get chills just thinking about it. I’m going to look at that poster every time I want to quit. Yay, Peace Corps!

3) As for my Aid Post - really, don’t ask. I gave someone a piece of paper to fill out three months ago and I’m waiting for a response…no further comments.

4) And the Health Committee I’ve been trying to start since September…we’re so close. Last week we had four whole people come to the meeting. We’re supposed to have six members and they refuse to elect officers until we have everyone, but we are getting there!

In other news, one of the cutest babies that has hitherto been afraid of me happily crawled into my lap for a whole ten minutes yesterday. Bliss! (Perhaps I have not yet mentioned how strange it is to never touch or be touched by anyone). It was during the campaign speeches. Vanuatu has a federal election on September 2. If you’ve never seen ‘democracy at work’ in a developing country, it’s pretty wild.

As for the movie, it’s coming along…slowly.

Oh, and yes, we are suddenly getting cell phone service on the island! Yes, it’s true! Watch this space (or better yet, my movie) to see how the good people of Bonga Bonga go from having no phone in their village to cell phones in one fell swoop. I mean, forget the fact that we have no consistent power source to charge everyone’s phones - Amanda’s always the party pooper - yay, cell phones!

I have now been writing for so long it can be officially considered ‘late afternoon’ and the evil sun will soon leave me in peace.

Oh yeah, I forgot to write about the new Youth Drama Team I’m starting at a nearby boarding school for ninth- and tenth- graders! I had big plans for all sorts of ‘topical’ plays, but I have had to pull back a bit when I discovered the boys won’t even stand in the same circle as the girls for the warm-up. Okay, so we’re not quite yet ready to explore Domestic Violence in a theatrical context but…baby steps. This is the only work I really care about, anyway. I mean, it’s the reason I joined Peace Corps in the first place…

Until next time,
Me