Sticky Rice PCV Magazine

Join Seón as he takes a dive into the music of his Peace Corps service. Come for the great tunes, stay for the stories.

Seón Tromble, 137 TESS

What is the hardest month of Peace Corps service?

It’s easy to jump to obvious answers.

The first month in country? You don’t know the language yet. You’ve just left behind the comfort and familiarity of life at home for strangeness and uncertainty. You’re also so busy as you start this massive undertaking we call PST (Pre Service Training), trying to integrate with a new family, and beginning to navigate the new social dynamics of your fellow trainees, a group of strangers you’re suddenly forced to depend upon.

But no, I don’t think that’s it.

What about your first month of teaching? I don’t think the full weight of the responsibility you accept as a teacher registers until you find yourself face to face with the students in the classroom. I remember the enormous sense of gravity that struck me the first time all those sets of eyes turned to me—I was hit with the understanding that my successes and failures would directly impact these children, and that they were counting on me to do right by them. That’s a daunting realization for a young, inexperienced teacher.

Still no, I don’t really think that’s it either.

Sure, it can be overwhelming initially, but it’s surprising how well volunteers adjust to their responsibilities and settle into the work. We have, after all, trained for this.

So what about the last month of school? Big tests coming up? Pressure’s on. You as the teacher see how much (or little) you actually managed to get through to the students. That’s a big month too.

If you actually ask volunteers, I’d be willing to bet that the fairly universal answer is “the first month at site.”

At least that’s what I’d say, given my personal experiences. Disclaimer here, everyone’s first month at site is unique. Some of my peers got dropped right into the deep end and immediately began organizing youth camps and doing other such great work. Me though? Not so much. I arrived at my site just after students finished their end of term examinations. A handful were still showing up until the official close of term so I did get the chance to meet some of my students early on.

Joseph, if you're reading this, the “I love yous” caught me so off guard.

I also got to attend the graduation ceremony for the students who had just completed their primary and secondary-level education. That was lovely, and I got to meet more students and families then.

There’s been other exciting things happening as well. I’ve been on very cool excursions with my host family to see some beautiful temples and landmarks in the area, I was briefly introduced to the village leadership, and I got to help the other teachers purify the shrines on the school grounds.

Other than these exciting events, my life this first month at site has been decidedly slow.

Which brings me to this installment of My Peace Corps Soundtrack’s song.

Vol. 2: (Sittin’ On) the Dock of the Bay by Otis Redding

So here’s what a normal day this past month has looked like:

As I am not a morning person, it’s rare for me to wake up early enough to beat the heat for morning exercise. Instead, after waking up, I’ll join my host family in the front yard. Their shop opens before the sun rises, and they essentially spend the day managing the shopfront. I spend my mornings reading, writing, and working on my Thai.

April in Thailand, especially in my area, is HOT. This means my community turns into a ghost town between the hours of 11 and 3 as temperatures rise to their peak somewhere in the triple digits. If you don’t have to work, it’s wisest to retreat to the cover of shade or, even better, air conditioning. For me this usually means more reading or watching something on TV.

Usually by the time temperatures start to fall from their scorching highs, around 4:30 or 5, I’m itching for some physical activity. This is when I’ll get out to go on a walk, run, or bike ride.

Here I should make note of the geography of my site. I live in a very rural, low population density area. It’s gorgeous here. If you’re a fan of idyllic rice fields nestled in the shadow of interestingly shaped jungle covered mountains, this is the spot for you. However, if you’re a fan of literally anything else, tough luck. We got fields and fields are what we got.

This next bit is going to be a bit of a pity party but this is my soapbox and I’ll do what I like. Over the last month it’s been challenging seeing my peers enjoying the nice cafes, restaurants, and community festivals at their sites when the most exciting thing in my life is getting chased by dogs. And I know, comparison is the thief of joy. But I have been finding it difficult to deal with this feeling of stagnation. I wake up, I read, I run, I repeat. I can’t even go to work yet because school doesn’t start for another month. I’ve begun to feel stuck.

Pause.

Take a deep breath.

Sittin’ in the morning sun

I’ll be sittin’ when the evening comes

Watching the ships roll in

Then I watch ‘em roll away again

I’m sittin’ on the dock of the bay

watchin the tiiiiide roll away

I’m just sittin’ on the dock of the bay

Wastin’ time

This song hit like a bolt of lightning out of a clear sky. It popped up while I was shuffling through new music a few days ago and it’s been on loop ever since.

Obviously, I don’t think a song is going to fix all my problems for me. There needs to be some sort of proactive approach on my end and for my part I am seeking new experiences and outlets to invest my energy. But this song came as a great reminder that it’s alright to be still for a while.

“Sittin’ here resting my bones and this loneliness won’t leave me alone. 2,000 miles I roam just to make this dock my home.”

You know what, Otis? I did come a long way just to be sitting around here. And it is pretty lonely.

But I love how he doesn’t sound angry or depressed about it. He’s just saying hey, if I gotta sit here I might as well make the most of it. I’m just going to enjoy the view. Look at that tide rolling away, look at the ships hustling around while I just get to sit here and watch.

Being mindful of the present is something I’ve never been particularly great at but would really like to be more conscious of. Recently, I’ve been finding myself looking to the future as the answer to my problems. It’s so easy to think that things will be better if I can only get to the start of school so I have something to do, or when I’m allowed to travel, or when I make it to reconnect and get to see my friends again. But if I stop to think about it, that feels like a trap. If I’m always looking to the future, how can I ever really experience what I’m doing now? If I’m never experiencing what I’m doing, am I experiencing my life at all?

This song came as a nice reminder to stop the spiral. Take a second and look around. Where you are may not be perfect. You may be bored, or hot, or lonely. But it’s where you are. That fact alone makes it far more valuable than any hypothetical future could be.

Maybe it’s a rare opportunity, to do nothing. Here’s to enjoying it better.