Coming Up for Air

A couple of years ago when I was rafting the Nile River, the guide, Roberto, instructed us on how to survive if we happened to be chucked into the rapids. 

"Tuck yourself into the fetal position and count to 10," Roberto said. "You'll rise to the surface and you can catch a breath of air.  If you try to fight the current, it will continue to pull you under and you'll drown." 

I was able to apply his little lesson later that day when our boat flipped in a class 5 rapid which was, if I remember correctly, about the size of Niagra Falls.  After churning under the water for what seemed like days, I finally stopped fighting the current and, not surprisingly, popped above the surface for a quick intake of air. 

I started thinking about this about a month ago, when I ran into a situation with my village that might have caused someone else to finally give up and go home. It was hurtful and it was shocking and I won't go into it, but it was the point when I finally stopped fighting and finally came up for air. 

And damn did it feel good to breathe again.

Up until then, I had been, in some way or another, fighting the current of Thailand.  I had been resistant to - and even afraid of - the culture, the language, attempts at friendships, and general integration since coming to Thailand in January.  There are a lot of things about coming here that have made me angry: missing friends and family, a failed relationship, the guilt of leaving people behind (specifically my dog - yes, I consider him a person, my favorite person actually), not being able to eat cheese, not being understood, being told what to do: when to shower, eat, and speak, and essentially not being treated like the independent 30-year-old woman I am who is quite used to traipsing across the globe alone or with very little supervision.  And true to my nature, I've gone down throwing as many punches as I've been able. 

I was drowning.  And it was exhausting. 

Along with opening my lungs, I re-opened my heart.  My friendships are better, my language is improving, and I'm actually starting to make an impact.  Little by little, I have stopped fighting and have started letting go.  Every time I do, it gets a little easier to be here.  And it makes knowing that I'll be here another 20 months feel a little less like drowning.  

So, Thailand, if you see me pause and tuck myself into the fetal position, don't be alarmed.  I'm just trying to catch my breath.