September 9, 2008: Orange

Dear Friend,

I didn’t take off my sandals as soon as I got back to the flat. It was a long day, and I forgot that it’s culturally unacceptable to not take your footwear off after entering a living space. I quickly remove them, reprimanding myself for being careless. Howling and barking dogs in the streets outside my bedroom window exemplify the chaos going on inside my head. Today was a rather difficult and overwhelming day. The honeymoon phase is over. Work has begun. I’m at the point now I’ve been afraid of getting at. I’m overwhelmed. And I feel alone. Horribly alone.

Those are the words I wrote the moment I got back to Tibi’s flat at the end of the day. I stopped there for the moment and waited for a time while I quieted myself and my thoughts to continue writing more coherently. A lot of self-reflection took place at that point. I tried praying for composure, for peace of mind, something I’m not used to praying for. Needless to say it was difficult, and the writing of this entry didn’t take place until I had slept a good night’s sleep.

There’s a system Daniel introduced to us during one of our first days in Romania, a system we’re all choosing to live by. It’s a system we’ll especially be using while on our backpacking trip through the Retezat. The system is called “challenge by choice.” Simply put, each of us can challenge ourselves as far as we want during this semester. A circle diagram can be used to symbolize different areas of challenge we may face in our daily lives. The inner green circle is the “comfort zone,” the place where you feel most in your element, challenged by very little, if anything at all. The middle orange circle is the “challenge circle,” where you know you’re still safe, but where challenges are certainly around, making you feel uncomfortable and stretching you in ways you didn’t think you’d be stretched. The outer red circle is the “panic zone,” where and when you have truly lost your mind and control and are completely outside any safety and you need to get out.

In general, my time here will remain within the orange zone. I haven’t quite gotten used to staying with strangers, even after all the host stays I did during summer tour. I'm confronted with a language barrier that will be difficult to breach. I’m also unfamiliar with many of the cultural differences found here. I don’t live here, so I need to figure out my way around. I won’t always see familiar faces, so I’ll have to figure out how to be resourceful and work alone. Am I entirely safe here? Probably, but I’m not entirely sure.

Much of the day’s frustration came while working with the Northwestern team. Our Experiential Education class is shedding more light on what we’ll be experiencing in the Retezat. The challenges we’ll face as a team are challenges we’ll have to overcome as a team. In light of this simple fact, the challenges automatically become greater because of the personalities of the members of the group. The simple matter of figuring how four of us will all fit into a tent together becomes a greater challenge because personalities request certain privileges not readily found in the mountains. As a democracy, team members are given the opportunity to voice their concerns, no matter how menial. The frustration sets in when so many concerns are voiced, many of which counteract other concerns, that the team becomes paralyzed in making a decision all for the sake of avoiding tension. Does any of this make sense? It’s a sensitive matter so I’m trying to address it delicately.

Whenever I face challenges such as these, I usually clam up. I’ll voice my concerns, maybe even reason my concerns if I have time, and then allow the others to voice theirs. My greatest fault during all of this is impatience. I seriously want a decision to be made and then I’ll adapt to it. Not everyone in the group has that same philosophy, at least not when they can have their say in the decision. The sun doesn’t help much, either. Decision making should not be done in a really hot sun.

The trap of becoming overwhelmed with frustrations such as these is that other frustrations in your life also become overwhelming. Now it’s no longer a time to problem solve, but instead a time to keep yourself from losing your mind. All concerns about my language course, my internship, and my directed study now piled onto my concerns about relationships with team members and making sure I survive the Retezat. I was careening dangerously towards the red panic zone and was trying to figure out why and, more importantly, how to avoid that in the future.

In retrospect, it all seems rather ridiculous. As I thought about it I realized the issues with the tent and anything else discussed during EE could be easily remedied and I'm probably over-reacting. I also realized I have more power than I’m giving myself credit for to choose where and when my “challenge zones” are defined. I can choose where I will be comfortable, where I will be challenged, and where I will invariably panic. Daniel’s challenge to all of us at the beginning of the semester was to allow ourselves to be challenged. We have the safety of New Horizons and its staff to fall back on if need be. Therefore, we should allow ourselves to experience as much as we can while here and in doing so challenge ourselves in ways we wouldn’t be challenged back home. The thought of this, however, didn’t give me any comfort.

I can get by. I’ve had to live a portion of my life just getting by, so I’m used to it. Whenever I face challenges, I find ways of just getting by them as opposed to taking advantage and learning from them. Since this semester began, I feel that’s what I’ve been doing: just getting by. The other members of the Northwestern team are in homestays right now, living with people who speak very little, if any, English. They’ve gone shopping for clothes and food since arriving in Lupeni, thus interacting with people. They even speak to each other in what Romanian they know, quite possibly because they have to in their homestay situations. I, however, am living with Tibi, who speaks very good English. I haven’t purchased a single thing since we arrived in Romania, which keeps me from interacting with people (and makes me wonder why I’m saving money that I won’t be able to use back in the States.) Because of these things, I don’t use Romanian all that much, and with all the research and writing I’ve been doing lately for my internship, much of my language studies have been put on hold. I’m getting by because that’s all I feel I can do. It’s a survival mechanism at this point.

I wish I could help you understand more, friend, what I experienced that day. I wish I could also help you understand the complexity not only of my duties here right now, but also the complexity of my thoughts. This entry probably reads rather strange. I also want to assure you that I’m recovered from any thought or possibility of panicking. God has certainly been good to me, and in all the confusion He has surrounded me with support. Your prayers are appreciated, and I pray for you as well. Tibi had me read a verse this morning that I think speaks well in this instance, and I will share it with you in closing. It was a verse he found last night, prompted by our conversations about marriage and divorce, selflessness and selfishness. “Not that we are competent in ourselves to claim anything for ourselves, but our competence comes from God.” (2 Corinthians 3:5)

Blessings.
Kailen