Paranoia in B-Flat Major

“I keep tellin’ myself

That it’ll be fine

You can’t make everybody happy all of the time…

But I have found myself in a place that I’ve never been

A place that I thought that I would never be…

There’s people lookin’ back at me”

As you fill out your application for the Peace Corps, you tend to think of a plethora of reasons why living overseas for 2 years is going to be an amazing experience. ‘In a country somewhere on the other side of the world,’ you think, ‘I’ll live a life completely different from what I know. I’ll speak a new language, become part of a community, have an interesting job, go on crazy, amazing adventures and meet new friends. It’s going to be great!’

And the good news is, dear Peace Corps applicants and afficionados, that all of the above turns out to be true. But what we tend to forget (or maybe I should only speak for myself here) is that life anywhere, with any group of people, is still life. And that means that wherever you go, whatever community you live in or job you work in, you will inevitably face situations that involve unpleasant trivialities and problems with the people around you.

They will make you mad and sadly, you, the benevolent American do-gooder with nothing but a smile and the best of intentions, will find a way to make them mad too.

This is especially difficult because you find that your well-founded reasons for your actions are not understandable as a result of language and culture, a veritable grand slam of awkwardness sure to cause hurt feelings and tension.

I find that one of the most difficult parts of living overseas in a culture vastly different from what I know is my inevitable straddling of what I’ll call the “culture” line. This line denotes a kind of equilibrium, one that keeps you and those in your family/community/vicinity relatively stable. You as the foreigner pick and choose which aspects of your culture you keep and which aspects of the host culture you adopt in order to stay sane. But when the culture line is crossed in one direction or the other, there are sure to be problems.

For example, recently I moved to my new site. Everything about it is great, and the people (including the host family I stayed with the first month) are helpful, kind, and hospitable. So why should I be worried that I have to tell the host family that I want to strike out on my own, living in one of the apartments near the center of town, taking care of business and better yet, myself?

Well I found the reason. Culturally, Americans are independent people. We give up the security of Mom fixing our every meal and washing all our clothes and taking care of us around age 18 for the benefits of staying out late, inviting who we want over to our apartments at various times of the day or night, and eating/drinking delicious but sometimes not-so-healthy for us food and beverages. It’s great! It’s also…American.

Telling this to many Georgians translates as: She doesn’t like us so she doesn’t want to live with us. The neighbors will say we’re a bad family who doesn’t feed our guests or treat them right. This is a personal decision that is very selfish and negatively affects the entire family.

Needless to say, it was a sticky situation. I may or may not have cried after a heated confrontation in Georgian. Yuck.

HOWEVER! Now I have my own apartment. I cook what I want (although it’s expensive…care packages full of American food, anyone? Anyone?!), I get up when I want, I don’t wear shoes inside, and I have Diet Coke chilling in my fridge. So I’m really looking forward to the next 9 months of service and my newfound independence.

Until the next news story or angry Georgian breaks, this is Lauren, and I’m OUT.