Comfort Zones
Originally Written October 1, 2009
Dear Readers,
Last night I wrote a little about the importance of passion in life and used languages as an example of passions in mine. But as much as languages consume in my life, it is not the only thing that plays a role in me. There is another big factor, a darker one. I’m afraid of a lot of things in life. Traveling around, seeking knowledge and familiarity of other things in the world have not alleviated my anxieties. That tells me two possibilities: either I am not doing what is right for me, or regardless of whether I am acting true to myself or not, fear is a bottomless feeder that vexes until its host’s life is withered away. Unlike a parasite that dies when its host dies, fear is not a living entity that worries about its survival, at least not in a biological sense. And fear has its paws deeply entrenched in humanity everywhere.
I spoke about how sometimes I worry about losing my passion for languages. But it will either happen or it won’t. I can make choices in life, but beyond that, control is out of my hands. And again, this applies to everything, not just my interest in languages. So again, I see a connection.
It’s very easy for me to stick with what I know. I’ve tried to shake that instinct by traveling around, but it’s a lesson that isn’t learned easily. I’ve tried to take risks and do daring things to help encourage growth and courage like joining the Peace Corps. But once in a new environment, that battle is not even half over yet. It’s not good enough that a person moves into a new country where things are sometimes backwards from what they knew beforehand. They have to be willing to go with the flow, as they say. My town, let’s admit, is unstimulating. It is beautiful here. But to my Western “developed nation” mentality, there is not a hell of a lot to do here. It layman’s terms, it’s boooooring. And that, dear readers, is kind of depressing. Mix it with traditions and customs that even after a year, if they don’t seem bizarre, they at least still don’t feel natural, and you’ve got yourself a recipe for feeling a long ways from home.
Let me give an example to help me clarify. Rinconada is celebrating its town festival. It’s a two-day party with drinking, music, a band, groups performing separate acts, costumes, stands of food, Peruvian moonshine, and of course tons of rice. A couple of weeks after that Silahua will be having their big party. Patrick and I have been asked to participate in both. In fact, it was more or less assumed we’d act in the party anyways.
There’s a good side to this. I’ve been accepted as a local community member. So much so that I’ve been asked to help participate in a dance or skit or something. Sure, people still stare at me when I walk down the road, but beyond that, I think I’ve been accepted.
But then fear comes in and tells me I don’t want to participate because it’s new and different. You might think you can get used to new and different things. And maybe you can. I don’t yet know the difference. It’s easy to *pretend* that you are well-adjusted and wise, especially when talking to a nervous brand-new volunteer (employee, international student, etc) but I think that we all still have our insecurities.
As I’ve stated before, I don’t like dancing. But if I’m going to dance, I like good music to dance to. Well, if you are in Peru, you are pretty much expected to dance, and the concept of someone who doesn’t like to dance seems about as unimaginable to the Peruvians as a talking can of peas. And as far as the music in my town goes… Well, let’s just say it’s not what I think about when I think about dancing. It’s easy to say, “That’s not for me, that’s not my thing, I want to do something I like.” And lots of times that might be right. I can say that about going to law school or med school, or being in a band, or reading Shakespeare, or hiking for weeks straight in the dark oppressive undergrounds with a team of geologists. Valuable yes, but not for me, not something I want to do.
That doesn’t really apply to participating in a town festival though. So what if a person doesn’t like dancing or the music. There are lots of things here that I am not interested in, or at least I don’t think I’m interested in. For example I don’t think I’ll ever need to learn how to be a farmer here, or how to plant banana trees. But what I’m trying to say is that for all the limitations I find here that frustrate me, I’m starting to see that I can be pretty limited, too. It’s easy to miss what is right in front of you. It can be irritating to have no one to talk to about things that I want to talk about. When the majority of folks have very basic education and knowledge of the world and are only interested in their crops, cows, donkeys, and fields, that just doesn’t leave a lot to talk about. But why should I think that I really know more than they do, at least if you don’t measure life in terms of places seen or languages learned or books read? If the folks here “don’t know any different” but are still happy with the simple pleasures of just getting together at a local party, aren’t they in an important way still going along pretty well?
I guess I’m saying it’s fine to not dig dancing or the music or the food. Everyone’s got personal tastes. Probably nothing will ever make me like their music (Lord knows I’ve had plenty of chances to give it a good listening-to), but it’s not fine to say you want to learn about different cultures and then hide behind “but they have to fit into my comfort zones.” In life, maybe taking part is better than hiding from something behind an excuse. Even if it’s scary and new and in your heart of hearts you suspect you’ll probably never do it again. I guess for now that’s the best I can articulate what I’m thinking about.
Sincerely,
Tristan
Dear Readers,
Last night I wrote a little about the importance of passion in life and used languages as an example of passions in mine. But as much as languages consume in my life, it is not the only thing that plays a role in me. There is another big factor, a darker one. I’m afraid of a lot of things in life. Traveling around, seeking knowledge and familiarity of other things in the world have not alleviated my anxieties. That tells me two possibilities: either I am not doing what is right for me, or regardless of whether I am acting true to myself or not, fear is a bottomless feeder that vexes until its host’s life is withered away. Unlike a parasite that dies when its host dies, fear is not a living entity that worries about its survival, at least not in a biological sense. And fear has its paws deeply entrenched in humanity everywhere.
I spoke about how sometimes I worry about losing my passion for languages. But it will either happen or it won’t. I can make choices in life, but beyond that, control is out of my hands. And again, this applies to everything, not just my interest in languages. So again, I see a connection.
It’s very easy for me to stick with what I know. I’ve tried to shake that instinct by traveling around, but it’s a lesson that isn’t learned easily. I’ve tried to take risks and do daring things to help encourage growth and courage like joining the Peace Corps. But once in a new environment, that battle is not even half over yet. It’s not good enough that a person moves into a new country where things are sometimes backwards from what they knew beforehand. They have to be willing to go with the flow, as they say. My town, let’s admit, is unstimulating. It is beautiful here. But to my Western “developed nation” mentality, there is not a hell of a lot to do here. It layman’s terms, it’s boooooring. And that, dear readers, is kind of depressing. Mix it with traditions and customs that even after a year, if they don’t seem bizarre, they at least still don’t feel natural, and you’ve got yourself a recipe for feeling a long ways from home.
Let me give an example to help me clarify. Rinconada is celebrating its town festival. It’s a two-day party with drinking, music, a band, groups performing separate acts, costumes, stands of food, Peruvian moonshine, and of course tons of rice. A couple of weeks after that Silahua will be having their big party. Patrick and I have been asked to participate in both. In fact, it was more or less assumed we’d act in the party anyways.
There’s a good side to this. I’ve been accepted as a local community member. So much so that I’ve been asked to help participate in a dance or skit or something. Sure, people still stare at me when I walk down the road, but beyond that, I think I’ve been accepted.
But then fear comes in and tells me I don’t want to participate because it’s new and different. You might think you can get used to new and different things. And maybe you can. I don’t yet know the difference. It’s easy to *pretend* that you are well-adjusted and wise, especially when talking to a nervous brand-new volunteer (employee, international student, etc) but I think that we all still have our insecurities.
As I’ve stated before, I don’t like dancing. But if I’m going to dance, I like good music to dance to. Well, if you are in Peru, you are pretty much expected to dance, and the concept of someone who doesn’t like to dance seems about as unimaginable to the Peruvians as a talking can of peas. And as far as the music in my town goes… Well, let’s just say it’s not what I think about when I think about dancing. It’s easy to say, “That’s not for me, that’s not my thing, I want to do something I like.” And lots of times that might be right. I can say that about going to law school or med school, or being in a band, or reading Shakespeare, or hiking for weeks straight in the dark oppressive undergrounds with a team of geologists. Valuable yes, but not for me, not something I want to do.
That doesn’t really apply to participating in a town festival though. So what if a person doesn’t like dancing or the music. There are lots of things here that I am not interested in, or at least I don’t think I’m interested in. For example I don’t think I’ll ever need to learn how to be a farmer here, or how to plant banana trees. But what I’m trying to say is that for all the limitations I find here that frustrate me, I’m starting to see that I can be pretty limited, too. It’s easy to miss what is right in front of you. It can be irritating to have no one to talk to about things that I want to talk about. When the majority of folks have very basic education and knowledge of the world and are only interested in their crops, cows, donkeys, and fields, that just doesn’t leave a lot to talk about. But why should I think that I really know more than they do, at least if you don’t measure life in terms of places seen or languages learned or books read? If the folks here “don’t know any different” but are still happy with the simple pleasures of just getting together at a local party, aren’t they in an important way still going along pretty well?
I guess I’m saying it’s fine to not dig dancing or the music or the food. Everyone’s got personal tastes. Probably nothing will ever make me like their music (Lord knows I’ve had plenty of chances to give it a good listening-to), but it’s not fine to say you want to learn about different cultures and then hide behind “but they have to fit into my comfort zones.” In life, maybe taking part is better than hiding from something behind an excuse. Even if it’s scary and new and in your heart of hearts you suspect you’ll probably never do it again. I guess for now that’s the best I can articulate what I’m thinking about.
Sincerely,
Tristan
posted by Tristan | 9:01 AM
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