November 9, 2008
Have you ever found yourself watching something mind-numbingly lame throughout its entirety for absolutely no reason other than your brain just decided it would be easier to turn off for a while than to…I don’t know…change the channel, put in that DVD you’re actually looking forward to watching, read a book, live? I’ve just finished watching some Queen Latifah movie – an utterly pointless, feel-good movie meant to make us look at our lives from a different perspective. In turn you’ll realize that you’ve been taking everything for granted, money can’t buy happiness, and you really need to just live life to the fullest before it’s too late. And I quote, “I want to be cremated. I’ve been living my whole life in a box. I don’t want to be buried in one.” Gag. And yet, I went through the whole thing in a zombie-like state…too tired to even snicker. This is why I should always be forbidden from owning a tv. It’s been a lively Sunday night. I will hereby adhere to a strict BBC, National Geographic, and Discovery channel tv diet.
That being said, it’s funny how my more settled life in Hanoi is so similar to my life back home. I suppose I knew this would happen to an extent, but I didn’t really know what to expect exactly. The thing is us humans seem to adjust pretty well to new circumstances. Well, that and old habits are remarkably hard to break. Hanoi has gone from overwhelming to weird to interesting to routine. You go to work, then go out drinking or go home, sleep, and do whatever it is people do during that scant amount of free time in the middle. Hence the lack of blog entries – my life hasn’t seemed blogworthy. I’m not complaining, though. Avi told me before I left that you can’t run away from yourself. I don’t think I was attempting to run away from myself when I came to Vietnam. I’d be delighted if my neuroses failed to make it with me, but I’m a realistic gal (kind of), and I realized that all my annoying Sarah quirks would remain as loyal to me as they always have been. If anything, I was running away from the prospect of getting a decent, career-starting job in my field that would lock me into a normal, 9 to 5 kind of life stuck in one place forever. I have a fear that when given the option, I’ll opt for the path of least resistance. I’m totally one of those people who will stick with a mediocre job forever just because it’s stable or safe. And that’s not even necessarily a bad thing – it could be quite a good thing in some ways – but still terrifying to my I-don’t-want-to-grow-up-yet 25 year old brain. (Upon thinking about this further, I partially take it back. I would love a job in public health, and I wish that all this time and effort I’m pouring into teaching was being spent learning statistics or something. I just want that public health job to be in Vietnam.)
November 15, 2008
I mentioned last time that I’ve been feeling stressed out the last few weeks, and to all of those whom I’ve spoken or written to, I apologize for my less than uplifting demeanor. My replies to the excited, “How’s Hanoi!!??” questions have been along the lines of, “eh..blah.” In the last week, I’ve relaxed quite a bit. I’ve started exploring Hanoi again in my free time, and that’s helped tremendously. There’s something about the lovely newbie eyes that’s addictive. My eyes are insatiable. More more more! I think my transition into a set routine was getting me down some. You mean I have to work like a normal person?! Ugh. But I was also getting stuck in a work bubble, dwelling too much on my classes and newfound responsibilities in that initial adjustment period. Even when I would go out, I’d find myself talking about work more than anything else, which is usual when you hang out with coworkers and I think venting can be healthy to an extent, but it can be too much as well.
The other source of my anxiety stems from what I was hoping would happen before I moved here. One of the allures of traveling to a foreign land was that I thought it would help me gain a new perspective on the various stumbling blocks and confusions that characterize this particular time in my life. (Kind of like what the above-mentioned movie was trying to accomplish. Maybe I should’ve just stayed in Texas and watched that.) I was hoping I would get a jolt or a slap in the face that would create some sort of aha moment for me. I joked with my friends about how I’d come back with a sort of radiant halo, in an enlightened state, and would probably be rid of all of my possessions and perhaps Buddhist. In other words, I’d be intolerable. But I was joking, really, and I don’t expect to figure out the secret to living a satisfied, serene life. However, I am hoping that the experience will at least help me grow out of some bad habits or, if that’s impossible, perhaps develop a few good ones. That all being said, due to the new surroundings, the search for grounding, and the expanses of alone time, the move has forced me to examine myself and my quirks yet again. While necessary, this is never a fun process and can be taken too far. I become introspective to an obsessive degree (i.e. a self-absorbed narcissist), dissecting and examining my personality traits and history and potential future trajectory in microscopic detail. This tedious process inevitably leads to more confusion and anxiety as no grand conclusions are drawn. Problems are surfaced but the solutions remain elusive. Such is life, right? I’ve gotten to the point where I think I’ve figured out a few things about myself and why I do the annoying things I do, and this small bit has lifted a weight off my back. I won’t elaborate much on my brilliant self discoveries as it seems like the emotional equivalent of posting nude pictures of myself on the internet. But one really simple thing that I’ve realized (and not for the first time, but I have to constantly remind myself of it) is that many problems come from taking it all too seriously – whatever “it all” may be at the time. Not that it’s wise to always be flippant, but it’s a good idea to take a step back every now and again and realize how small it really is. And of course mind you that this comes from an extremely privileged perspective. I’m not struggling with hunger or war afterall, nor do my decisions affect others in any great way. And acknowledging that privilege makes me want to bury my head in the sand in embarrassment for stressing out or complaining at all ever. Am I one of those self-entitled brats that dominate my generation in America? Yes, probably. But that’s why I’m in Hanoi, right? To fix that? Heh. Not really.
Leave a Reply