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| In Valley of Peace with other Q'eqchi volunteers and our language coach's daughters |
A Friendly Reminder:
Before stating anything further, I want to clearly express that this entry is by no means a complaint about my new life nor is it written with any form of contempt or disappointment. My only intention is to be as transparent as possible and accurately describe my OWN observations and encounters in Belize. Please keep in mind that every volunteers' experience and reaction is different even if we were to be placed in similar situations.
The First Week:
As a Korean-American girl raised in the suburbs of Southern California, there were many lifestyle changes I had to readily adjust in order to become an effective public servant and to integrate successfully within my host community. Although I had some notion of what would be expected to live in a remote village, a heavy air of undeniable clash between reality and expectation lingered on my first night at our training site, Valley of Peace. Here are a few challenges I encountered:
- The weather: Immediately after exiting the plane, I was cloaked with a blanket of humidity that clung to every inch of fabric and skin it came in contact with. Even with the slightest movement, sweat poured down from every crevice of my body and soaked my clothes. Then without warning, it began to drizzle and I had to spraddle through mud with all my belongings. Densely crammed into a school bus with twenty other damp bodies and our heap of luggage, I had never felt so sticky and uncomfortable in my life; better yet, there was nothing I could do in my power to relieve my overwhelming tension except to focus my energy on the scenery and relish in the breathtaking view of luscious hills and wild animals until we reached the air-conditioned Peace Corps office. Every day is an relentless fight against intense heat and lingering humidity or sudden downpour and ankle-deep mud.
- The bugs: I have been bitten by mosquitoes on camping trips with family and friends, but never to the inescapable extent that I endure daily in Belize. Even after taking all precautionary measures (medicine bands, bug spray, long sleeves, garlic, mosquito net), all visible (and non-visible) anatomical surfaces of my body are constantly devoured by an array of insects of all sizes and shapes, day and night. I wouldn't mind getting bit if I didn't have to suffer the aftermath of itchiness, swelling, open sores, infection, and scars. My limbs are hideously branded with inflamed scabs and permanent circular scars, an appearance similar to a child with a case of chicken pox. And frequently before jumping into bed, I engaged in Spartan-like war against a swarm of moths, scorpions, tarantulas, flies, and cockroaches; my slipper emerging from the bloodshed as the triumphant victor. The unexpected encounters and apathetic annihilations with these creepy-crawlers have given me numerous nightmares where at times, I would jolt wide awake unable to shake the sensation of these critters crawling all over me.
- The amenities: Until my recent arrival and intent to live in this underdeveloped country, I have never realized, to this extent, how fortunate Americans are to be constantly surrounded by electricity, running water, internet connectivity, and uninterrupted phone service since these are standard essentials that children in American households grew up with. We tend to take advantage of what we have and never think twice about how much we waste. Although these are basic necessities to live comfortably, it is a rarity to come across in remote areas.
- Electricity: My family lives a bit far from the main roads; therefore, don't have access to attach to the power lines for current. However, a member of their church installed a solar panel to their house, which allows minimal use of the power we save during the day. With no light, I tend to go to bed when the sun sets and wake upright as the sun is about to rise and the roosters start crowing. Getting dressed, reading books, writing letters, typing up emails, and completing assignments for our projects are usually accomplished under a solar lantern that Peace Corps kindly provides. I probably look like a hot mess everyday.
- Running water: Since there is no continuous source of running water, each household has to create their own derivation of a toilet and a shower. My family, like most families in Valley of Peace, dug up a massive ditch with a small cut-up hole in a wooden outhouse couple yards away from the house that serves as a latrine. On a daily basis, they also preserve water in gigantic containers that is used for cooking, washing hands, cleaning dishes, and bucket baths.
- Internet and phone connectivity: All I can say is that it is rare, very rare. Internet can be found in homes that can afford it, or at Internet cafes, hotels, and small businesses. And even if you end up connecting onto the WIFI, it runs as slow as a snail. Text messages get lost in cyber space, photos take hours to upload and most likely will need multiple attempts, windows need to be refreshed every so often, and updating your phone can take up to a whole day. Luckily, the Peace Corps office has blessed us with Internet; however, with the plethora of volunteers and staff scrambling to reach their loved ones back home with all sorts of devices, the bandwidth gets clogged with increased activity and becomes so dysfunctional that it's not even worth trying to connect to the network. In addition, not a day goes by where my phone calls do not get dropped or continue undisturbed without yelling "hello?" at the end of each sentence. In my opinion, you might have a better chance of reaching or clearly communicating with someone driving up to Mammoth mountain than with someone walking down the streets of Belize. Majority of the time, I can't even reach other volunteers living in the same training community as me until I walk around aimlessly with the phone high up in the air, praying to catch a bar of signal.
- The diet and exercise: Although I am not a yoga blogger or sports athlete, I am fully conscious about my health and actively work to improve my diet and physical activity on a daily basis. While living in in San Diego, my portioned meals usually consisted of a nutritious assortment of vegetables, lean protein, legumes, fruits, yogurt, and whole wheat carbohydrates. In addition, I would sneak in at least 30 minutes to an hour of some form of exercise such as running, yoga, Zumba, weight lifting, or rock climbing and even ventured out to half-day hikes during the weekend. In contrast, my current diet in Belize consists of an overload of flour or corn tortillas, rice, and an excessive amount of beans. On special occasions, we eat peppered soup with chicken called caldo. The meals lack variety, the portion sizes are gargantuan, and everything is fried in lard or oil, depending on what the family can afford. And since the roads are unleveled and rough with rocks, gravel, and mud, it makes the terrain unbearable and difficult to walk on without tripping. Therefore, the amount of physical activity that I exhibit is almost non-existent. In my attempt to integrate successfully into a Q'eqchi household, the combination between unhealthy eating habits and lack of exercise has put me in a sensitive situation where I have to put aside my concerns of gaining several pounds a week so that I can finish every local meal prepared by my host mother out of deferential respect for the effort she puts into providing for the family with the little they can afford.
- The freedom: When I was 17-years-old, I moved out of my parents' house to attend college in San Diego and even after graduating, I ended up finding employment in the area and lived independently with couple roommates. For about six years, I paid for my own expenses, made my own responsible decisions, and completed my own chores. Now that I am assigned to a host family, I feel like I have reverted back to my adolescent days when I lived under the roof of restrictions and curfews. For instance, my host parents expected me to wake up by 5 a.m., when they ran their corn-mill for our neighbors and to be home by 6 p.m., just before the sun was beginning to set. Also, I was expected to stay home and spend time with the extended family on the weekends. In the states, I managed my own schedule, came and went home whenever I pleased, and spent time with friends during my spare time.
The Afterword:
These accounts are a true testament to the "adaptation principle" that Jonathan Haidt claims in his book The Happiness Hypothesis. The psychologist and philosopher states that the human mind is extraordinarily sensitive to changes in conditions, but not as sensitive to absolute levels. Peoples' judgments about their present state are based whether it is better or worse than the state which they have become accustomed to and therefore, most return to their baseline level of happiness. Even the notable Adam Smith is quoted, "in every permanent situation, where there is no expectation of change, the mind of every man, in a longer or shorter time, returns to its natural and usual state of tranquility. In prosperity, after a certain time, it falls back to that state; in adversity, after a certain time, it rises up to it." As highly intellectual species, we are not only capable to habituate, but also, more likely to recalibrate. We create for our selves a world of targets and each time we hit one, we replace it with another. After a string of successes we aim higher; after a massive setback we aim lower. We surround ourselves with goals, hopes, and expectations, and then feel pleasure and pain in relation to our progress. So in the long run, it doesn't matter much what happens to you whether it is considered good or bad fortune; you will eventually return to your brain's default set point of happiness.
Despite such challenging circumstances, I have adapted to this new life and remain as happy as ever and undeniably committed to my duties as a rural health volunteer. Truly, I am fortunate to be surrounded by exceptional staff and a devoted host family that accommodates to unthinkable measures in order to provide a comfortable environment to meet my needs.
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"When heaven is about to confer a great responsibility on any man, it will exercise his mind with suffering, subject his sinews and bones to hard work, expose his body to hunger, put him to poverty, place obstacles in the paths of his deeds, so as to stimulate his mind, harden his nature, and improve wherever he is incompetent." - Meng Tzu
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