real talk

the hardest thing about being here is figuring out how to navigate the cultural divide. i can see how it would be so easy for some people to live here and just have everything they want and not learn the language and not care really care about or even notice the poverty after awhile. there are so many opportunies (as in the US, as in everywhere else) to isolate yourself from others' suffering.

but the poverty breaks my heart. literally breaks my heart. and its so hard not to go straight from that to feeling guilty about what i have and what i have been given - literally handed - in my life. i dont know how to deal with it all that well yet. i am still getting used to so many things that i dont understand, and likely never will understand. 

for ex, and this seems so tiny and insignificant, but it breaks my heart -- when i bargain with a moto or tuktuk driver, lets say he asks $4 and i say, smiling, 'no way, man. thats too much!' and then i say '$2?' and he then he says 'no' and and i say '$3?' then, instead of agreeing out loud, he just looks off, literally turns away, and acts like he has been distracted by something else. until today, i have been asking for clarification, saying 'yeah? ok? sir? $3 is ok?' -- and now ive realized that he is agreeing to a lesser price than he wanted by just passively looking away -- as though he has lost face in some way. i know im paying them decent tourist prices, but thats what im talking about: i feel like ive made him feel bad in some way, small or big, and i worry about that a lot. its just hard to understand. 

perhaps this conclusion ive drawn about losing face isnt right either.... and the fact that i might never know the answers to any of these wonderings drives me nuts and makes me feel very insecure as though im existing outside of reality. my reality is real weird right now... as though im almost watching myself from the outside as i live life here. strangely, i remember having that same feeling when i first left the US and traveled to VietNam when i was 21 -- like an out of body travel experience. now im having it in a much more intense way 10 years down the road...  

its all so heavy, and all the heavier because it is happening in the context of gut-wrenching poverty and issues around my privilege, and insecurities at the same time about having good intentions and wanting to be here to help in some small way. i know that i am missing so much of the meaning of exchanges with others here, despite my best efforts. i also know that i will always be an outsider and carry my big, white, western privilege whether i want to or not. 

i also know i dont have to save the world. (ok i DONT really know that, but cognitively, i realize that its not possible, or even preferable to try...). we cant all be Paul Farmer.

on my worst days as a social worker in the US, i can at least say that im not doing harm. perhaps i didnt help, but i didnt hurt anyone. here, even that doesnt seem like a given. im not trying to be melodramatic about it, im just afraid that i will do the opposite of help others while im working here. and, for reasons that are way too culturally complicated to get into now, will never be told by the intended recipients of the "help" that i could have been more helpful if i have behaved in a different way. at least with Americans, theyll TELL you if youre sucking as a social worker. if i was had lost face every time some angry client asked me why i even had my job, i would even have a head anymore...  ;)

ugh, baggage. sorrow. lack of confidence and perceived control. its scary. 

......there is also the possibility that i will help in some small way. that would be a miracle, and would mean so much to me.