I have always believed that there is growth in discomfort. For my entire life I have talked about the importance of trying new things, pushing your limits, and stepping out of your comfort zone in order to grow. When I first moved to utah I was uncomfortable. I had to be brave to accomplish my goals. I had to be vulnerable to make new friends. I had to be uncomfortable in order to grow. I believe at my core that being uncomfortable is one of the best things that you can do as a person.
But y’all just because it’s critically important to be uncomfortable, doesn’t make it fun. Being uncomfortable really sucks sometimes. And I would wager that it is not an unfair claim to say that I am more uncomfortable now than I ever have been in my entire life. I am in a developing country, that speaks a different language, with no one that I know. I am constantly the wrong temperature, I am constantly confused by the cultural norms, and i am constantly covered in mosquito bites. It’s physically draining and it’s emotionally exhausting.
In the comedor, I feel like I am at a party thrown by a friend of a friend. There are a few people I can talk to or exchange pleasantries with, I say hello to familiar faces, but I always feel a bit like I’m on the outside. Not unwanted. Not unwelcome. Just uncomfortable.
In the city, I feel how I imagine it would feel if you went grocery shopping in a prom dress. I have never been one to shy away from attention, but I feel wildly out of place. Which in fairness, I am.
However, in the children’s home, I feel like the big sister who just got home from college. In the homes, I am still new, but I am greeted with excitement. When their tiny little voices say “Tia Sarah!” My heart melts and I’m reminded exactly why I am willing to feel so uncomfortable.
I wish I could write here and say “I really feel like I’m making an impact here.” I wish I could write that I have accomplished so much. I wish I could write that I am changing lives. But the truth is, I’m not. Honestly, it’s the opposite. These kids, this place, this discomfort, is making an impact on me.
Here is a list of the things I am learning from Bolivia:
Some days, there are frogs in your shower, and that is good luck.
Some days, there are spiders in your room, and you have to just be brave and shake them out.
Some days, you accidentally kill cockroaches when you sit on the toilet seat, and that sucks but there’s nothing you can do about that, so you have to just clean it up.
When they say “be ready at 8:30” that really means “be ready sometime between 8:30-10:30, maybe 11:00.” And you have to just be patient.
When you order anything at a restaurant or try to buy something from the market there’s a 50% chance it’s not going to be what you expected. You can try to figure out if it was your fault, or there fault, but it’s probably best to just decided to be grateful for what you have.
When you try to execute an activity, not everyone is going to be as excited about it as you are. Of the people that are excited, only like 30% will understand you well enough to be able to execute. It’s probably best to celebrate the tiny victory of getting the 30%.
Spanish is a tricky language and there’s very critical differences between certain words, and the order you use them. Examples include: “te toca” meaning “your turn” and “toca te” meaning “touch yourself.” “Yo estoy enojada” meaning “I am feeling angry” and “yo estoy anaranjada” meaning “I am feeling Orange.” “Hace caliente” meaning “it is hot outside” and “estoy caliente” meaning “I am horny.” You can get hung up on the differences in the language, or embarrassed about your Spanish, or you can just laugh when they laugh and roll with it.
Sometimes the drivers drive on the wrong side of the street. Sometimes the drivers drive all the way off the road. Sometimes the drivers try to pass cars and come within inches of a collision. It’s best to just not look out the window and trust in the process.
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