Stranger in a Strange Land

It is impossible to describe how different life is here in Olancho. I feel like a fish that has grown fledging legs and is beginning to explore an entirely new world – choking from half-grown lungs, vision blurry from ill-developed eyes. My skin burns from the sun, and my body drips with sweat. All the sights, sounds, routines, social processes that I have taken shelter and comfort in my entire life are gone. All is unfamiliar, foreign, strange, as I am.

The uncertainty is difficult. Even though I teach all of my classes mostly in Spanish for the present, I can understand only about 60% of what is said to me, and only about 10% of what is said to other people. I am forever uncertain about what is going on around me socially, and I find it difficult to stay engaged when I am constantly asking for repetitions and clarifications. I seldom understand the contents of children’s arguments in class. Buying saldo for my phone was a 20 minute affair, and I’ve only just figured out the basics.

It seems that, like it must be for the fish learning to walk, brief forays back into the familiar are precious moments of joy. Amenities like packaged granola and AC in the pharmacy are at once out of place and welcome to me. Hearing fluent English is impossibly satisfying. Today, the other two gringo teachers and I sang the American national anthem while the American flag was raised. Even though I am not usually sentimental about such things, I felt a stroke of romantic pride in the land of the free and home of the brave.

I suppose in time I will grow to appreciate, love, and even miss the things of this culture. We will see how long the “grokking” will take.