In recent days, several of my local expat friends asked me how long I had been here. I wondered why that question kept popping up? On each occasion, I noted that I had been here 7 months (!!!). My inquisitors responded with something like, “ahhhh, the 6 month slump.”
What? Is there something new on my face (aside from the pimples from the heat and dust storms)? Do I ooze a well recognized scent of frustration (other than the sweaty smell of working in a hot office with 9 other people)? Am I holding myself in a new way (other than to accommodate the added pounds of the carb-infested Malawi diet and sedentary lifestyle of office work)? I wondered. I soul searched. I napped on it.
As it turns out, 6 months is an expat milestone of some sort. It is about the time the excitement and elation of being in a new place wears thin and the successful glow of conquering all the settling in tasks begins to fade -- leaving a dull, puffy-eyed look of exhaustion and disconsolation. The work becomes overwhelming (find $40,000 or people lose their jobs); the thrill of early work coups diminishes in the face of all the barriers to success (how to treat 10,000 new people on ART without any new staff); the sadness of life with Diet Coke becomes overwhelming (nationwide shortage).
Still, I love it here. I love my work, and I make sure to remember (or have Jon remind me) that all the little successes will eventually lead to some tiny piece of sustainable progress (still optimistic! Still idealistic!). In the mean time, I’m taking extra time for foster puppy licks; finding giggles in the street signs (read closely – first column); enjoying the flame trees in bloom in our yard (and in the country); trying to document the amazing birds that play in our birdbath (when the puppies are not bathing in it); and taking moments to watch blue-headed iguanas hang out in our trees. Jon and I recently commissioned some tree-chairs (like upright hammocks) to put in the yard – forcing me, we hope, to spend time just swinging away. Between a little blog therapy (thanks!) an upcoming vacation (Red dog: here I come!), things are already well on their way to an 8-month upswing.
What? Is there something new on my face (aside from the pimples from the heat and dust storms)? Do I ooze a well recognized scent of frustration (other than the sweaty smell of working in a hot office with 9 other people)? Am I holding myself in a new way (other than to accommodate the added pounds of the carb-infested Malawi diet and sedentary lifestyle of office work)? I wondered. I soul searched. I napped on it.
As it turns out, 6 months is an expat milestone of some sort. It is about the time the excitement and elation of being in a new place wears thin and the successful glow of conquering all the settling in tasks begins to fade -- leaving a dull, puffy-eyed look of exhaustion and disconsolation. The work becomes overwhelming (find $40,000 or people lose their jobs); the thrill of early work coups diminishes in the face of all the barriers to success (how to treat 10,000 new people on ART without any new staff); the sadness of life with Diet Coke becomes overwhelming (nationwide shortage).
Still, I love it here. I love my work, and I make sure to remember (or have Jon remind me) that all the little successes will eventually lead to some tiny piece of sustainable progress (still optimistic! Still idealistic!). In the mean time, I’m taking extra time for foster puppy licks; finding giggles in the street signs (read closely – first column); enjoying the flame trees in bloom in our yard (and in the country); trying to document the amazing birds that play in our birdbath (when the puppies are not bathing in it); and taking moments to watch blue-headed iguanas hang out in our trees. Jon and I recently commissioned some tree-chairs (like upright hammocks) to put in the yard – forcing me, we hope, to spend time just swinging away. Between a little blog therapy (thanks!) an upcoming vacation (Red dog: here I come!), things are already well on their way to an 8-month upswing.
Are you going home to St. Louis? When and for how long? Wish I could give you a hug!
ReplyDelete