I have been struggling.

These past two weeks have been a bit difficult for me. I live in a soum, 5 hours away from the closest American, or rather fluent English speaking person and to say I am lonely is an understatement. If any of you know me, laughing is apart of my daily routine, or rather hourly. But it seems as though I have nothing to laugh about anymore. I can’t recall the last time I laughed so hard I lost my breath. I remember in college it happened at least once ever couple of days if not more.

            Now please don’t get me wrong. I love my job and my coworkers, students, and many other acquaintances. But that is just it. They are acquaintances. My coworkers are my friends, but I think friends are a little different here. We work together, talk, and do chores, but just hanging out, having a drink, or even talking about deep concepts are out of the question. The first reason because of Mongolian culture and the second because of the language barrier.

            The hard thing is that because I am not fluent in the language I don’t understand most things. When I speak English it is to teach or plan lessons. I don’t speak for fun anymore. I can’t make inside jokes with people, or jokes at all for that matter. I feel like I am going stir crazy, yet there is nowhere to go to get rid of it.

I know the purpose of me being here isn’t so that I can laugh and have a good time, but to make a difference in people’s lives and help in any way that I can. But shouldn’t those go hand in hand? Should I be unhappy in a foreign country, just to say that I was in the Peace Corps?

            When I first got to site I wrote letters to over 30 people and I have received 4 responses. I know everyone has busy schedules, and I understand completely. But for me, I go to the post office on Thursday, the day when all the mail comes with a sliver of hope for a letter or a faint hope of my lost package but I always leave empty handed.

My workday is busy and I always have something to do, but when 5 o’clock rolls around everyone goes home, does their chores, hangs out with their families, and more. Even volunteers who live in cities get to see each other many times during the week. While here I am having a pity party all by myself. Now I know this is a downer and who wants to read that, but you have to realize, way out here there is no one to vent to, so writing is my venting. After work I read or watch movies, which makes me think of what my life would be like somewhere else.

            Every day I think about what I will do after my service is over, but shouldn’t I be in the moment? Shouldn’t I be all here. I feel like I shouldn’t be planning my future while I am here, but the whole time I just keep thinking when is my life going to start. Should I be thinking this is my life or plan the future.

            The thing that gets me the most is that it’s not like I miss material things. I’m not craving specific food or anything like that. I miss people. I miss my friends, I miss meeting new people, I miss being able to strike up a conversation with someone and not have to worry if they understand you or not.

            So needless to say I have been struggling. I know I have made a difference at school and when I am there I feel needed and wanted, but afterwards when I come home I feel like I am in a cold empty dark shell, aka my ger. Is this what selflessness is supposed to feel like? Like you are wasting your prime youthful years to help others? Maybe I am being cynical, but I just keep seeing people my age living it up. Should I be doing the same?

            Maybe I have just been a bit off lately. Maybe it is because my monthly visitor has come into town. Or maybe I can’t do this. But all I know is I committed to two years of service and I will be damned if I quit on another thing in my life. But then again the thought comes to mind, can I handle or cope with being melancholic and  isolated for another 2 years?

            So yes, I have been struggling……………….and it’s not even winter yet.

           

                        Xoxo,

                                    Rojo