One more night, that was a good one

This happens to be one of those eerily serene moments in the VRC where I am compluetely alone at the computer. Usually, there is a bustle of volunteer activity, sometimes intimidating with their confidence and capabilities in their various projects, sometimes hilarious with the banter of the people that I love with my whole heart and respect unconditionally. So far, keeping it together has been enough. But have I really kept it together? Only if you consider three emotional breakdowns in six days “keeping it together.” My job hit some high spots, mostly at one of my schools where I have been helping out in the second and 7th grade classrooms, and one of the teachers has been really receptive with my help teaching poetry, which clearly they cannot grasp poetry if they dotn understand the words that are the beauty of the poem. Most of the poetry is shit that has no relevance to their lives whatsoever, and is intentionally vague. But I see hope at that school. The other school… puts a weight on my soul that I never thought imaginable. I keep thinking I am not trying hard enough, not putting enough of myself into the job, the teachers or the kids. But I feel physically ill when I go to that school. It’s a combination of the misery of the kids, the lack of motivation from the teachers, and the fact that there are 250 kids crammed into one room so I have literally no place to sit down. One day last week, the secondary schools were taking tests, and I was told that my school was as well, so I went for a run with Sam and then went to town and got a text message from my principal sayings “Where are you?? I’ve to tell Clement that you do not show up regularly and come and go as you please.” Clement is my “boss” at peace corps, who has been nothing but supportive with my struggles with my principal, which have been immense. But, all of my insecurities about my capabilities of being effective in any way have been rampant for a long time, and so I actually believed that I could get in trouble. I feel like I try so hard in my head, that I make myself tired. I am sensitive to everything, and feel so much of the weight of what is around me that I am completely ineffective at actually being proactive. I feel like if I focused on one thing at a time instead of looking at the big picture and feeling lost in the middle of the ocean, I would get my feet back on the ground. I used to have this picture of two massive orca whales in the middle of the ocean hanging above my bed (yes… in high school) and it always terrified me. Not because I am typically afraid of marine life, but because behind them is this giant void. I am terrified of being in the middle of the unknown. And right now I am so far in the middle of the unknown that I am losing myself. I find validation wherever I can get it. Sam, Rebecca, Lindsey, Tarsha, Madeline and I all drove down to Cape Twon last week for a much needed vacation. But instead of feeling the solace and rest that I so craved, I had two emotional breakdowns. I live in a country where my biggest splurge during the week is a Fanta, and where my choices of cereal are corn flakes or the bigger box of corn flakes. And its life. I love it. I love living in Thaba Tseka with my whole heart and soul. But then entering the world I took for granted with an entire row of cereals, a coffee shop on each corner, and white people galore, it was too much stimulation. It was too much to take. We did an amazing wine tour during the day where I just felt ridiculous the whole time. I couldn’t let myself enjoy it without feeling guilty for my gluttonous behavior. That night we went to a Cuban restaurant and sat around and as I looked at the people surrounding me, I realized how completely in love I am with each one of them. I would never have the opportunity to spend time with such a diverse and strong willed group of people back in the states. But in Lesotho, it works. And I was thrilled to see how it worked outside of our comfort zones. But that night, I was just overwhelled with nostalgia for the past, longing for nights out at bars dancing and people watching, and feeding my vanity. Feeding my vanity. I constantly repeat this concept to myself because its something I realize I thrive on. I need validation for my self worth. I need to know how much I mean to people. I need to feel. Tarsha Veiga is my rock. She calms my soul. One of the reasons I tend not to drink is because I completely lose control. And I am typically very astute of keeping my feelings under wraps, and my reactions to myself, and putting on a façade of whatever or whoever I need to be. But when I drink, the emotions of my soul are exposed for the unfortunate friend whose shoulder I drench in tears. Saturday night it was Madeline, who has the soul of a wise and beautiful angel. Her voice is as comforting as wrapping yourself in a down comforter and sitting beside the fire during winter. And then, I begged her to leave because I hate putting the burden of my ridiculous outbursts on others, I feel like such a weight. Sam came in shortly afterwards and I sobbed on his newly pressed shirt and expressed how weak I am. I don’t know how are where I am ever going to get the strength that I think I need to thrive. Sam’s girlfriend is coming next week and staying for three weeks and that puts a whole in a part of my heart. He and Rebecca are my rocks who I depend on to get me through the week. Instead of hiding in Sam’s house I am actually going to have to throw myself into the work that I have been so clearly avoiding. I have been shaking all day and am an absolutle train wreck. I let stress for the unknown inhabit my body, and don’t know how to breathe anymore. I know that all these struggles are making me a more complete person, but tell that to my shaking hands.
Anyways.
Sorry for the melodrama. Cape Town was incredible. It was the most beautiful city in the world and I fell deeply in love with my five travelling companions. We lost a hubcap on our rental car, got a speeding ticket, realized that 50% of our conversations are reciting of inside jokes, and laughed and laughed and ate until I couldn’t tell the difference between bliss and earthly living.
It was that beautiful.I am now in more training in Maseru and it has been incredible to see and hear from people I haven’t had contact with in two months and listen to their triumphs and their struggles, and reignite the solidarity that is so present. Yesterday at our Primary Resource Teacher reconnect, I had my third emotional breakdown but I felt completely safe in the eyes of the others. They didn’t judge me, they empathized and understood. And it was the best feeling.
So, yes there have been ups and downs. Sorry for only relaying the downs. I am living with a passion and fire burning in my soul, I just don’t know quite how to direct it before it loses its flame.
I will write more when surrounded by people who can spur me on to tell the numerous funny stories that I am withholding.