All Aboard the Emotional Rollercoaster

For those of you who don’t know when I was about 22, I went to Nigeria for a year to work as a volunteer teacher with VSO- UK.

I was sent to Plateau State in the middle of Nigeria- to a little village called Jing that was not even on the map at the time.

There was no electricity, no running water, no internet, no radio, and virtually no food.

Evenings were spent sat on the porch of my tiny cement block house waiting for the mosquitos to land on my legs and crush them. I used a tilly lamp for light, a big pottery urn sat in a pile of sand to hold water which was brought from the river by girls who balanced buckets on their heads, which then had to be filtered before boiling in order to drink.

I got very sick, malaria, other unknown fevers, swollen glands the size of a bowling ball, amoebic dysentery and lost so much weight I could squeeze through the gate bars at the Canadian volunteers compound in the capital of Plateau state – Jos. I think by that stage I was about 45kg…. We were just dropped in to a very isolated place and had to survive with no support.

That time was truly traumatic for me and when I came back I still had to deal with a nematode parasitic infection that plagued me for a year. And yet I look back at that time and compare it to now- where I have so much support and luxury, I cannot believe I did survive in Nigeria and wonder why I find it so hard here now. If I had to contend with those conditions now I would die. Youth is obviously an asset in so many ways.

A guardian totem out side the graveyard in Cacavei- the village I where I am trying to teach the kindergarten teachers to use creative play with he children.

Yes there are physical challenges here- not like Nigeria thank god, but it is the emotional and mental challenges that try me. I am surprised by how many emotional states I shift through in the course of a week here in Lospalos. It truly feels like being on an emotional roller coaster.

For instance a few weeks ago I learned that the convent girls were not allowed to come back to our creative arts groups- the nuns told us that they had too much work to do- yet I suspect it was because they were having fun and expressing themselves and the nuns did not like that! So I felt I was back to square one in terms of trying to get things going here.

I had two days of feeling like giving up and had to remind myself that I do not give up easily…and by Friday I was back on board with positive thoughts and hope for the future. It will just take a bit longer than expected.

Images of the resistance in Lospalos. A reminder of how long and hard the struggle for independence took.

The other night Nicky( the other VSA here) and I invited the staff and their families around for tea. We had chickens and lamb and lots of rice, and potato bake and cakes and veggies and the staff arrived with many children, some their own and some their nieces and nephews and who ever else was staying.
The children did art and then we ate and then we danced….it was so much fun and I felt as if I had found my Timor family.

Yet I do long for more social connection with other VSA’s. Nicky goes at the beginning of May and my trips to Dili are not that frequent. The cultural divide is huge and being able to relax in the presence of other malae(foreigners) is important.

Yes it is lonely for me- especially at weekends where there is nothing to do. I have adopted a family on one of my local walks- they have 9 children and live out by the war memorial and I have begun taking them cakes on may weekly visit where I try to talk Tetun with them as they can’t speak English- and it makes my day! So it is a pay off- more connection with the locals versus more social life and support for me.

Luckily I have the internet and an easy way to talk to people in NZ and the UK and this is a life line for me. And John is there a phone call away.

I look back at my time in Nigeria and I have no idea how I managed to survive a year there in such harsh isolation.

It is a lesson in survival and the human spirit- perhaps my spirit is stronger than I thought- so coping with the set backs, frustrations and problems of trying to get anything done that is Timor – well – I might just have the strength to do this.

My work at the women’s shelter is going well and I feel as if I am building a lovely group there and offering them some experiences they would otherwise not have.

I am hopeful for the future and the other things I am trying to achieve, even if it is so hard sometimes.

As I sit here hoping I will get back to NZ for a friends wedding, after turning up at the airport yesterday to find the flight … ‘is not coming Mana….’ courtesy of the guy sweeping up! My emotional state yesterday went from one of being full of joy for running a lovely Open Floor workshop that people really enjoyed, to lots of excitement at the thought of getting on the plane to disappointment that I was not going and had no idea how to sort it out. (Don’t get me started on call waiting or how to even find the right number to call the airline!) And then despair thinking I’ll never get home! I look at myself and wonder how on earth do the Timorese do it here. They are constantly beset by set backs and disappointments from the government, not being paid, daily living, lack of money for medical care, the aftermath of war and colonisation and here I am feeling sorry for myself for missing a flight. It’s a very humbling experience. I feel as if I am the princess with the pea under the mattresses, tossing and turning in discomfort because I am so sensitive and needy of luxury. I am being confronted with my own frippery.

I realise I need a top up of connection with friends and family and familiarity. My tank is low! So NZ here I come(fingers crossed)!

Crocodile bridge