The Three Month Hurdle
on From Banglatown to Bangladesh (Bangladesh), 24/Mar/2009 13:27, 34 days ago
Two weeks ago, I celebrated my five month anniversary in Bangladesh. I say 'celebrated', but really all I mean is that I woke up, went into the office, looked at the beautiful Brighton calendar hanging by desk (thank you KW), and realised that it is now mid-March. It was five months ago that I arrived in Bangladesh, peering out of the airplane's windows, wondering where exactly Dhaka was and how the plane could land amongst so much water. Then, the seasons of rain and heat were at an end. Now, all signs indicate that summer is approaching: the days are getting hotter and more humid, power cuts are even more frequent, any illness is attributed to 'the change of seasons', and there are an increasing number of ants, mosquitoes, spiders and cockroaches taking up residence in my flat.But, I'm getting ahead of myself. I don't know what the sweaty days ahead will bring or what effects the rains that follow will have. Instead, in true VSO reflective style, I want to look back: to sometime in January, when the days were short, the nights were cool, and my colleagues wrapped themselves in scarves and balaclavas to protect themselves from being 'besi thanda' or 'too much cold' (I should point out my body, used to dark and damp English winters, managed with a cardigan). In England, the debts and detoxes associated with January generally means it is a rather depressing month. In Bangladesh, where the sun was shining and the festive season is barely recognised, the usual post-Christmas blues were not present. Instead, January in the Desh brought its own– significantly more colourful - version of winter gloom: a time I'm calling the Three Month Hurdle.Those of you familiar with VSO will be aware of its love, along with that for ice-breakers and acronyms, for reflective tools encouraging self-analysis of personal, as well as professional, adjustments to new surroundings. In the pre-Bangladesh era, at the first training I attended, we were given a particularly descriptive outline of the rollercoaster of emotions many volunteers experience. Summarising settling-in, the process of transition was said to include such highs and lows as 'denial', 'euphoria', 'pining', 'anger', 'guilt', 'depression', and 'apathy', before reaching the final stage: 'gradual acceptance'. I would like to make some confident comment about my ability to circumnavigate these peaks and troughs, and avoid the angst and adjustments of a struggling volunteer. But the truth is– to varying levels of intensity, and despite how clichéd or confessional it sounds – I have experienced many of these highs and lows since arriving in Bangladesh. And it was in January that these conflicting emotions were at their height.On the one hand, I spent many days sitting at my desk feeling guilty about feeling despondent, as I wondered how to fill my days and my evenings, and how to overcome the differences of language and understandings of planning that stood between me and the tasks I had been assigned. After three months, the ability to eat rice with my hand no longer felt like much of an achievement, and the initial pride at being able to ask in Bangla for fruit and vegetables in the market had worn off. I thought instead that it was time for me to move past these minor victories, and towards making some contribution to the objectives of my volunteer placement. On the other hand, there were definite moments of euphoria. I felt on top of the world as I hurtled along the top of the Khagrachari hills on the back on a motorcycle, during a rare village visit. After weeks of planning, postponing and rearranging, I was very pleased and relieved to finally facilitate my first training workshop in the office, even though the second was again delayed.The wall of frustration that was the Three Month Hurdle was created by these constant ups and downs, along with the usual self-pity brought about by cold weather and minor illness. Although I am very lucky in my placement– as regular readers will know, I am in a beautiful and fascinating setting, with wonderful, welcoming colleagues - it was a time of struggle as I tried to negotiate the challenges of actually settling in and contributing to a very different environment. Despite knowing this was all part of transition, living and working in a small place means that the world outside Khagrachari and Bangladesh can seem rather vague and distant, and keeping perspective can be difficult. And without other distractions, moments of frustration (many) – and of inspiration (again, many) – are significantly more intense than they would be otherwise.To continue the use of cliché, the tricks to overcoming the Hurdle were not the mindless DVDs I entertained myself with during down times, but – those age old solutions to everything – talking and time. After a few days in Dhaka sharing various frustrations and worries with my fellow YfDs, I was relieved to discover thatwe were all facing the same issues. As the beginning of February rolled on, the trials and tribulations of January began to fade. After an increase in assertiveness at work in my side and sharing of some of my concerns with my colleagues, gradually I was able to begin new tasks and start addressing some of the reasons why they requested a volunteer.Five months in, and the seasons have indeed changed. I have tried to give up thinking about what I should be accomplishing, and focusing instead on what I am doing. My achievements are still minor, but they were never going to be more than that, and that does not detract from their significance (for me, at least). I don't really know what impacts my being here have or will have, but that's besides the point– we can only ever guess about the potential impacts of our actions. And while the ups and downs, frustrations and inspirations - ever-present in the life of a VSO volunteer - continue, most of my time is spent getting on with the day-to-day: thinking about Annual Reports and English lessons andupcoming indigenous festivals and what to cook for dinner. Of course, I still don't know what's ahead, but right now the sun is shining, watermelons and green coconut juice are in season, and the Hurdle – like the Tube, roast dinners, and Shoreditch haircuts – seems to belong to somewhere in the distance, to a place I know well, but struggle to picture clearly right now.