Conversations

There’s a dog that lives a few houses away from me who has become the key note in the soundtrack of my life.  He spends the majority of his day tied to a pole on top of a roof and has a bark that I could identify in a dog-barking lineup anywhere in the world.  That’s how much I’ve heard this dog barking.  Anytime it stops, I jump up to see if he’s still there, and sure enough, the barking stopped because he finally got invited back inside.  It’s not the life I would wish for this dog, but he does at least appear to be healthy and he goes inside at night where I hope he gets lots of petting and loving attention.  

 This stately dog did not bark. 

 That's the neighborhood rooftop dog in the distance. 

 This dog is resting in the shade. 

 This dog has, um, big bones. 

This dog has small bones, and is wearing a pink sweater.

This dog was chillin.  There are sooooooo many dogs. 

Every once in a while, I encounter something that doesn’t sit well with me, like roof dogs.  Or when my neighbor starts practicing their tuba at 7:00 PM.  Or when I hear someone make a comment about how beautiful a woman in a meeting was when her real contribution was her eloquent and thoughtful insight.  Or when I catch a comment about a woman in a sexy scene on one of the many telenovelas frequently playing in local restaurants.  It doesn’t happen often, but when it does I often struggle with how to appropriately react, taking into account a different cultural context and the fact that I'm often the only woman present.

  Large iguana in a tree. It was almost the size of a dog. 

Can you find the three iguanas in this photo?

When I find myself alone with other women here, the conversations are invariably more familiar and surprisingly revealing.  We’ve had deep conversations about their perceived pros and cons associated with being married and having children, their thoughts on the desires and duties for men vs. women in terms of raising children, their sense of self-worth, their feelings about not having any – or finally having – money of their own, their dreams for their future, and their interest in new perspectives.  And we've talked about my life and experiences, which are quite different. 

It’s difficult to capture how moving these conversations have been.  One woman told me that her core identity for 10 years was that she was a stay-at-home mom and wife.  She said that she has a new sense of purpose and pride because she’s been given new training opportunities via our project and is now making her own money, attending meetings where she gets to have a voice at the table, taking classes and learning a new language.  She's still a great mom who loves caring for and spending time with her family, but she also appreciates getting new opportunities.  She recently told me she was nervous for a meeting we were attending and I asked why.  She’s such a confident, outgoing woman that I had forgotten this was new terrain for her.  It’s pretty awesome getting to watch her display her passion in a professional setting and to talk with her about her journey.

 Local art.

Local art.

I’ve had some really personal and introspective conversations with men here as well, but always in a one-on-one setting.  It’s a privilege when those conversations take place because it means that people trust me enough to talk about their personal lives, fears, frustrations and hopes.  Or maybe I'm just a safe outsider to have these types of conversations with.  It's always interesting to talk with people about why I'm here, why I joined Peace Corps, all the different places I've lived, and how I haven't lived with my family in a really long time.  I love that part of the cultural exchange that is at the core of Peace Corps service.  I get to share my life experiences with people and expose them to a very different story, and in return, they share a piece of their life and make me think about things in a new way.  These conversations have definitely helped me gain a greater appreciation for the complexity of people’s lives and how many things we have in common.  It's also been a great reminder that it's never too late – for anything.  Except playing your tuba in an apartment complex.  It's never, ever a good time for that. 

Image from Pinterest.