I’ve been feeling fairly restless and anxious lately, but have been struggling to articulate exactly why I’ve been feeling that way. As far as Peace Corps sites go, I live a very comfortable life here in Santo Domingo. I have a relaxed host family, a nice home, and I live in a big city with lots of big city amenities. But then today I went to the post office to check my PO Box (yes, I have a PO Box and yes, I love care packages from the US – seriously, I’m running low on contact solution), and I was so excited to have received a postcard from a friend who had been traveling in Europe in June. Once I got home and was done being impressed by the fact that this postcard made it all the way from Scotland to Santo Domingo, Ecuador (OK, honestly, I’m still impressed by this fact), though, I wanted to hang up my postcard on my refrigerator, like I always do. But then I realized I don’t have a refrigerator. Or a desk. Or anywhere to really display a postcard. And then I realized that I desperately miss having a space that is truly my own.
I have my own bedroom (as per Peace Corps policy), and while it has a nice bed, a closet, a nightstand, some shelves, and a TV I turned on one time, it’s not really my space. Not in the same way that my own apartment was my private space. I feel like a teenager all of a sudden again. I don’t want to hang anything on the walls because I’m afraid to damage the house, and anyway I don’t have money to buy anything to hang on the walls. I’m considering making some sort of recycled art project from toilet paper rolls, but I would have to put nails in the walls to hang up my little project, which is a no-no. My host family is great, but I know I’m not going to live here past 2 years, so I don’t want to damage a place that’s not my own.
I could move out now that I’ve been at site for over 6 months, but even so, I think what I’m looking for is impossible for me to recreate here in Ecuador. I want my old apartment in Madison. That place was hot as hell in the summer, with its thick carpet and western-facing windows letting in all the blazing afternoon sunlight, but this time of year was when I really started to love that place. I’d get to see the trees changing colors right outside my window, and I could tell each night that more leaves had fallen as the streetlights gradually shone brighter and brighter into my bedroom without the leaf-covered tree providing me shade. And it would start to get cold out, but I’d know that the carpet I hated to walk on the month before would once again be my cozy little friend that would help keep me warm all winter long.
But there is no true winter here, and if there was any carpet in Santo Domingo it would be absolutely disgusting. Like, never, ever dry and mildewy as can be. I like living in a warm place, though since I’ve never lived in a place like this before, I think my body is confused by this seemingly never ending summer. Despite having spent my entire life dreading the brutal Midwestern winter, some part of me is certainly ready for a transition. And maybe that’s what set me off on this restless streak lately, but I think what I’m really nostalgic for is the sense of freedom and independence that came with having my own apartment and the leading whatever kind of life I wanted to lead in Madison. I had my own apartment and the income to pay my own rent, my own car, and could basically buy whatever I wanted … off the clearance rack at H&M.
I’ve never considered myself a very materialistic person. Most everyone who came over to my Madison apartment would describe my place in one of two ways. If they liked my decor, they would compliment it as “minimalistic.” If they didn’t, they would describe it as “austere.” I don’t like having a lot of stuff, which, this being a Peace Corps blog, shouldn’t really come as a surprise. I guess I am surprised, however, at how much I miss feeling financially independent. And just overall independent, too. I’m actually not struggling financially here because I think my living stipend is sufficient for the standard of living in Santo Domingo, but that’s also because I’m very cautious about how and when I spend my money. And I know if I get an apartment for the rest of my service, I’m going to have spend a lot of money on the basics. Like a refrigerator upon which I can hang my postcard (fun fact: most apartment kitchens do not come furnished with a refrigerator, stove, or oven like apartments in the US).
Ultimately, though, I have to admit that I’m just not as independent a person here as I was in the US. And I miss that sense of independence, which I guess is a very US American sentiment. I have Ecuadorian host parents who pretty much take care of all major and minor household issues. I have no idea how to change the gas tank when we run out of kitchen gas, or how to get the water cistern refilled, or where to go to pay the electric bill (another fun fact: the electric bill gets delivered on tiny slips of paper by delivery guys from the company and then you go to some office or bill paying place to pay your bill in Santo Domingo, I just don’t know where). And I’m still figuring out how to live here in general. It’s a humbling experience.
My life is both privileged and small here. It’s been a challenging, exciting, stressful, exhilarating, you-name-it 8 months here. Only 19 more to go.
Margaret in Ecuador 