Turn And Face The Strange

Written February 12, 2008

Cultural adjustment is strange. Day by day nothing seems to change; you don’t feel any different, but things are slowly shifting. I get water from a well, and for the longest time I couldn’t get more than a half bucket of water up at a time. It’s a weird combination of wrist, forearm, and shoulder muscles. It rankled and frustrated because I’m sure the average Turkmen six year-old could do it blindfolded. Now, I can, with one hand in the dark, pull up the full pail. And it doesn’t seem possible that I didn’t know how before.

So, I think I’ve adjusted. I can eat rice with my bare hands like a pro, complete with the thumb flick. I can use the outhouse in the dark. I can wear a koynek, and I was shocked when I saw my host mother outside without socks. In my head I’m good; I’m in a place where things make sense most of the time.

And then, suddenly and without warning, I’m not. I was doing rounds one of my clinic staff and saw a baby given an enema. I don’t know the particulars of the situation, but I am pretty sure that was not the correct solution. There are just times when I feel completely out of my depth. These are the kind of issues I am here to address, to educated on, and I am clueless.