You win some, you lose some

At first, I was going to say that Brazilians have been pretty gracious losers after France beat Brazil 1-0 in the World Cup playoffs on Saturday; most of the reactions I heard at first were things like "France deserved to win because they played much better than we did." Then today I heard grumblings even from the children at the project that the game had been fixed. In any event, things were very quiet around town yesterday as the country seemed to be in mourning. I watched the game on Saturday at a birthday/game-watching party (see the picture below) before heading back to our apartment for another birthday party in the recreation room downstairs. Almost all of the people at the game-watching/birthday party were family. With such huge extended families, who needs friends? (This picture represents only about 50% of the number of people at the party...)

Once again, I'm sick with what appears to be a cold. I'm not sure how much of it is living in a new country, adjusting to winter when there's no heat in the buildings here, simply a side-effect of working with children, being in a society that is always hugging and kissing, or a combination of the above. The other volunteer, Chris, also seems to be getting sick more often than he did at home, and many of my Brazilian colleagues have been catching colds, so at least I'm not alone.

I continue to be amazed with people's flexibility and resistance. People that have traveled on a bus overnight and were unable to sleep or who have been out of town for several days arrive and continue to host not one but two-and-a-half days of birthday festivities and visits and overnight guests. I know in the U.S. I would be tempted to cancel the events or at the very least, call somebody else to take my place. I had a very tiring weekend with the parties and guests, but it was a very welcome relief to spend time at my coordinator's house last night eating fondue for the first time, conversing in English and playing Skip-Bo (a card game a tiny bit like Uno).

The cultural safety standards are different here. For example, most people do not have working seatbelts in their back seats, and some people don't use seatbelts in the front seats. A lot of people will release their seatbelts as they get close to (but not yet arriving at) their destinations. Almost nobody seems to use carseats for babies, even in the middle/upper class. Rarely do you see somebody doing a job with all of the safety equipment they'd be using in the U.S. I think part of the reason for these different safety standards is due to lower economic resources, but I think the other part is that they don't have an "I'm going to sue you" culture here like there is in the U.S., which is refreshing.

Last week I helped write a small grant application for a U.S. funding program we learned of less than one week before the application deadline. I guess that I passed the test because my coordinator (she doesn't like being called my "boss") has given me more applications for which we can help various projects apply.

I'm going through some predictable difficulties that I'd seen international people in the U.S. experience, but now I'm going through it up-close and personal. It's not anything extreme as a major depression or an "I hate everything here" or even an "I'm so homesick" thing. It's just more of a compilation of little things that build up to make me get the blues and feel like: I can't really communicate with folks and nobody really understands me (although I know it's not that extreme--I can actually manage okay most of the time); I'm all alone in the midst of all of these people because nobody speaks my language (but in reality, there are several English-speakers here and several people are watching out for me); I'm tired of the seemingly herculean effort necessary to do something that would normally be effortless for me in the U.S. like buy a specific item or get a haircut (it's usually not that bad once I get off my butt and take the first step); I'm sad that I don't have friends here to hang out with (there actually are a few people who've invited me to do things--I've mostly been too lazy to follow-up or take the initiative); I'm sad that church services here so far aren't fulfilling for me (I've been meaning to visit other churches but haven't yet gotten around to it), etc.

It's interesting because I knew from seeing the experiences of my many international friends in the U.S. that the first six months are especially difficult in adjusting to a new country, language and culture. I was reminded of that today when I talked to my coordinator about my blues. I actually used to get a little annoyed with international people's tendency to only hang out with other people from their country, but now I understand it a little better. Even though being a fellow countryman in no way guarantees that someone will be a nice person or a suitable friend, it does allow you the comfort of having, more or less, the same cultural mores. It's nice to be able to talk to somebody and not sound like a 5-year-old. And this too, shall pass...

Finally, I feel like my personality is once again "under construction" and going through God-directed improvements, but I am currently struggling in the uncomfortable, unresolved state of seeing what the issue/problem is but not yet having overcome it. I feel like I'm a pretty generous person and that I was able to give up most of my connection to material goods to come and volunteer here, but I've been shown multiple times over the past six months how I'm still attached to things in that I get very annoyed when people use my stuff without permission. But it's not just "people" but particularly people that I deem are somehow "undeserving" that really prompt this strong, knee-jerk revulsion. This includes spoiled children and people that are experts at procuring and using other people's resources but who don't give in return. I find it much easier to ignore or overlook things that "nice" people inadvertently do. This is just another facet of the judgementalism that has been firmly rooted in my brain from a very early age. I guess it boils down to feeling like selfishness or self-centeredness is something I find it extremely difficult to tolerate, although I don't have a problem being assertive about my own interests or doing things for myself from time-to-time. So now the point is to find the will and the means to extend Christian love and hospitality to these people, who are certainly considered my "neighbors" in the Biblical sense.