Almost Home

First off, let me note one thing.

There is no wisdom that human beings can establish as being true beyond the subjectively coloured moment in which a particular phenomenon seems to apply to their universe. In the past 2 months, I have experienced more upheavals, ups and downs, and lessons that meant something in the morning only to be disproven with nightfall, than I could have ever imagined.

I’ve learned a lot whilst here, that is an incontrovertible fact. However, I am often struck by the transient nature of knowledge. Something that seems to govern the way I live my life one week can be entirely irrelevant the next.

For instance, let’s say that my stay in Botswana can be divided into the three months I am here for. The first month was a horrific blur of culture shock, fear, and anxiety about this commitment I had, perhaps foolishly I thought, gotten myself into. The second, a euphoric breeze which passed in the blink of an eye as I got more immersed into my position and life here, and as it became increasingly apparent that this is the single most rewarding thing I have ever done with my life.

Now, commencing the last leg of my stay, I feel.... different. I am quite aware of the fact that there is very little time left. 25 days to be precise. At once this feels like a short and long amount of time. It feels short because it is less than a third of my entire placement so comparatively it is a small period. But it is also long because knowing that I’m so close to leaving but that there is still a substantial chunk left makes it feel like I’m in this nebulous in-between place again, kind of like during my first month, when my headspace was anything but in the moment. I would say that the second month was the most wonderful part of this journey, because that was when I fully engaged this whole experience and forgot about timelines or deadlines, and just existed, marinating in all the daily lessons and stimuli of living here. This life had become normal and comfortable, but every day was somehow invigorating.

Now, it is difficult to keep looking at this as normal life even though I’m quite used to it. In my head I’m already packing, already distancing myself psychologically. I feel like I’ve already gotten so much out of this experience and given that I’m leaving so soon, it’s hard to stay grounded and connected to what I am doing. A truly exacerbating factor is the oppressive heat. I’m talking 37 degree average. I’m talking sweat in parts of your body you didn’t even know could sweat. One thing is enjoying 40 degrees during a Montenegro summer, on the coast of the Adriatic Sea, with some of the most perfect, translucent water in the world just a 10 minute walk away from my apartment. Another entirely is sweating my balls off working in development. No air conditioning, just a fan that after 12pm blows nothing but hot air and your own sweat back at you. I have almost fainted many times. Oh and let’s talk about pms and menstruation, shall we?! Yeah, I said it. The whole past week has been an emotional disaster as my hormones wreaked havoc on my system. Now, I’m feeling much better (especially since I got rescued by a Serbian family for the weekend and spent it eating Serbian food, drinking wine, and swimming in their beautiful pool). But let’s face it, this is a bloody mess. I’m sure I don’t need to paint this particular visual, but I will anyways to vent. Picture your whole body profusely sweating from every possible pore in your body. Now add sticky floods of blood, which you sit on all day. And that’s just the physical discomfort. What happens to your hormones is equally horrendous.

So although I love the sun passionately and this has truly been an iridescent injection of Vitamin D... I’m ready for winter.  Still though, I relish every second of this. For all the amazing perks of a summer of floating in the sea, this is the most personally gratifying thing I have ever done. For more reasons that I can count and in great part, because it is so difficult. I have never felt stronger and more calm and satisfied.

The one thing I still worry about is my relationship with the kids. As I got to know them all better, I developed close bonds with some of them and looked forward to coming into work and getting to hug them every day. Now, with the encroaching heat strangling every ounce of energy from the staff, it is difficult for the children to receive the kind of energetic care they need and deserve. Sometimes I lose sight of just how valuable they are. When all my body and mind want to do is lie on a bed of ice, it’s extremely draining to run around doing everything that needs to be done in a given day, as well as to maintain a sincerely enthusiastic, loving demeanor with the children who individually need immense care. I am one person. One young, inexperienced person. I am working on it, and this has given me tremendous perspective on what it’s like to care for vulnerable beings, the challenges and rewards that a job like this carries.

I wouldn’t want a long-term career like this, that much I have definitively deduced. I can’t afford to be emotionally involved in my work. I can’t handle the idea that if I have a shitty day, week, or month, I might unintentionally hurt a child with my bitterness and frustration. They feed off of our energy so much, especially when the language barrier eliminates verbal communication, and they can sense every bit of negativity you’re channeling. So the last thing I want to do is to have to always be on guard and nervous about how whatever I’m personally dealing with will affect the children psychologically. Especially these kids, who require a positive and lively space that they feel they can thrive in.

So this is where I’m at. It is brain meltingly hot. Clothing is an oppressive burden at this point. Work is insane and near impossible. Even falling asleep is a huge challenge. My roommates and I are torn between crying and laughing at the sheer incredulity of our freezing cold-adapted bodies plopped in the midst of a deep, southern African summer. I am writing this before bed with my fan aimed at my head, because any writing/thinking is damn near implausible during the day. But I am going to push through until the end and thereafter marvel at the fact that at some point, this was my life.

So long,

Milena