Immersion

Immersion.  It’s the best way to learn.  Or so I’ve heard.  I thought I was fully aware of what the word immersion meant.  After all, I am fluent in English, or at least I like to think so.  I even took it upon myself to look it up in the dictionary, online of course (oh technology) and this is the definition I found: To be deeply engaged or involved.  But let me tell you just how wrong that definition is.  Immersion may be the best way to learn although I won’t stand behind that point quite yet, but what I do know is that immersion is so much harder than it lets itself on to be.  Before coming into the Peace Corps I pictured immersion as this beautiful thing filled with fun, and exciting new memories, and being welcomed into this wonderful new culture, with so many glorious stories to tell and share where you basically instantly become a part of that culture and you don’t crave burritos every 5 minutes (sorry, I had to) and you just LOVE every second of it.  And I am here to tell you now, just how wrong I was.  Immersion is hard.  It’s putting yourself out there.  It’s living with fear.  It’s learning how to deal with that fear.  It’s doing things every day that you know are awkward as hell, but it’s the only option you have.  It’s knowing when to agree to disagree.  It’s learning when to disagree.  It’s gathering information about an entire situation from the following five words because they’re the only ones you understand: love, ate, cat, food, did.  Only to later find out that you mistook the word love for died and the cat is in fact dead.  It’s being a kid again who depends on everyone else for everything.  It’s being the mature professional when the middle school boys whistle at you.  It’s being called the rich white girl.  It’s trying to get people to look past your rich white girl status.  It’s watching your mom beat your brother and sister and accepting there’s nothing you can do about it.  It’s having people who don’t have enough food to feed their 5 year old, feed you instead.  It’s having people ask you for money day after day, hour after hour, and you having to turn them down knowing you darn well have enough to give them.  It’s letting kids laugh over and over at your language and letting them make fun of you.  It’s letting the adults do the same.  It’s using the latrine and bathing with a bucket while I update this on my computer.  It’s choking down food that you hate.  It’s appreciating the food that you love.  It’s wanting to feel a part of the community.  It’s realizing that no matter what, you will always be different.  It’s smiling when all you want to do is cry.  It’s crying when all you want to do is smile.  It’s spending all your energy to fit in.  It’s teaching everyone else that it’s okay to not fit in.  It’s having your appearance be analyzed by everyone you meet.  And it’s staying confident in who you are and what you are here for.  Immersion is getting smiles from complete strangers on the worst of days.  It’s having your host sister tell you the only reason she makes fun of you is because she loves you.  It’s having your grandma tell you you’re going to do great things.  It’s understanding what she told you.  It’s making banana bread to get a break from the fried meat, and it’s knowing when it’s completely okay to hoard the banana bread for yourself.  It’s going to the soccer games and cheering crazily with the crowd.  It’s bringing the cows back from the field with your grandpa and watching him protect you every step of the way.  It’s the calls from your host family to check in on how you’re doing.  It’s having kids chase you down the street yelling your name.  It’s having your teenage neighbor tell you how pretty you are.  It’s having someone ask to walk with you instead of criticizing your weird ways.  It’s finding the hidden waterfalls.  It’s believing in yourself.  It’s keeping in mind that progress is gradual.  It’s realizing that sadness is okay.  And that fear is too.  It’s seeking out new opportunities no matter how awkward.  It’s remembering the small things.  Because in the end, the small things are what immersion is about.  And probably what life is about too.  Although, let’s be real.  I’m no expert in life quite yet.