Six Month Slump

You know, I honestly believe every relationship (even the best ones) hit that point where you think to yourself, “Now or never -- it’s time to bail!” I call it The Six Month Slump. As my friends will tell you, it’s my excuse for nearly all relationship malfunctions between the six and nine month mark. At six months, it isn’t a novelty anymore and you need to decide if you can continue playing the “casual dating” card or if you need to take the dive into a - gasp - serious relationship. This is about where I’m at with my relationship with Cambodia.

No one panic or start celebrating yet, I’m not thinking about bailing. But I will admit I’m on the upswing of my own, personal Six Month Slump with Cambodia. I left San Fran thinking I’d have revolutionized my school, brought new hope to the country and slipped seamlessly into life in Cambodia by now … boy, how arrogant was I? Change takes time, especially when you’re dealing with a broken system, filled with extreme poverty or internal corruption when the smallest glimmer of hope (translation: funding) appears. It’s not that people don’t want to change, it’s just that sometimes the obstacles seem endless, and that can beat down even the most optimistic of hearts.

Recently, I’ve been questioning exactly what I’m doing here. What am I doing here when I can’t even convince my co-teachers to come to work on time? What am I doing here when we have multiple holidays in a week, effectively ruining student and teacher motivation with one fell swoop? What am I doing here when I still can’t communicate my goals to the people I’m working with? Yikes. What AM I doing here? And that question is the essence of the Peace Corps experience. It’s finding a way to help people despite the odds … and certainly despite your own expectations for what “the perfect service” should be.

Every volunteer from the first group to serve here has said the same thing. They all thought about throwing in the towel at one point or another, and - surprise, surprise - most of them said it was that six to nine month period that seemed the hardest. Six months in … a year an a half of people staring, pinching you on the street, and not taking your work seriously to go. As if the thought of returning to family, friends and the glorious 20-something lifestyle wasn’t enough to make you want to go home. But that’s the false allure of the Six Month Slump.

It’s easy to think back on the fun of being single when you’re in a relationship, but rarely do you reflect on all those hours spent waiting for the phone to ring. Okay, so the analogy is a bit of a stretch, but you see where I’m going with this. During those low points, your instinct will always be to think about what you’re missing. The more important question is: what would you be missing if you gave up?

When I step back and look at my life, I’m practically living in a dream. What do I have to complain about? I’m healthy (this week anyway), have good friends, some great projects on the horizon, and a charmed life to return to when this dream is over. I wake up every morning in the tropics to fresh coconut milk, fresh air and an adventure that I’ll never be able to have again. Sure it’s hard, and sometimes it feels good to wallow in that bubble of doubt (doubt about the culture, my work, myself, whatever), but I do see progress in my students, and even though service isn’t what I expected, I’m still serving.

That isn’t to say there won’t be days when all I want to do is see my family, go out to dinner with my friends, or catch the next plane out of here, but I can finally answer that question. What am I doing here? I’m here to show my students that there’s a bigger world out there, and they can be part of it. I’m here to see 15 girls graduate from the first annual Camp G.L.O.W. - Cambodia this July, and I’m here to learn with my students at Sustainable Cambodia. It’s fair to say I’m also here to learn about myself.

I have more time than I ever imagined to think about what’s important to me, what I want out of life, and who I want to be when I come home. Talk to me in another year and a half and I’ll tell you. For now, it looks like I’ve committed to that long term relationship.