Pouting

I am back from being “on retreat” with about 80 other people from World Relief Cambodia, and a team of 10 from College Park Church in Indianapolis. We traveled to Kirirom Resort on the western side of Cambodia to spend a few days relaxing, recharging, and renewing our spirits for the year ahead. The team has been blogging about their trip, so I will direct you to their impressions of Cambodia and the time they spent here (http://joshuaharber.blogspot.com/). They even have video.

There are too many stories to tell at this point, about our time in the provinces before the retreat, my thoughts and emotions at this juncture in my stay—those will come later. It was Thanksgiving on Thursday, as every American knows. I spent it welcoming Cambodian staff to a luxurious (for Cambodia) retreat center, fixing problems, and even eating turkey (ordered for the occasion). The turkey and mashed potatoes were a great reminder of what my friends and family must have been doing on the other side of the world, but it’s still not the same. Perhaps trying to recreate it wasn’t the best idea. In the aftermath, I am homesick.

After my trip to the US, I’ve been pouting a bit. Coming back has been hard, not in the sense that anything is particularly difficult, but in the fact that nothing is happening. In the US, I could talk about different relationships, tell stories, have a conversation about what was going on. For three weeks, I felt like nothing was happening here. I got up, I went to work, I slept. Not a lot to talk about there. So I pulled a pout, refused to talk, and really only hurt myself. I should have learned a long time ago that isolation is only a punishment to me.

I found myself in an interesting place last week, though. While I wanted to remain withdrawn and wallow in my homesickness, I was in a situation with a lot of others, serving and attending to lots of different needs and details. While I desperately wanted some contact with the people I refused to email a week ago, I didn’t have time to connect to the internet. Frustrating, indeed. I don’t quite understand these emotions. I’m not one to live in the “extremes” of temper. So to be so up and down is a strange feeling, and one that makes me uncomfortable. Am I learning to open up to my own feelings (how pop-psychology does that sound)? Is it the Lord doing some work on my heart?

In the midst of putting aside my ambivalence towards being here, I’ve been showing others around. This means that I have to think critically about what I show them, how we travel through the country, and the culture clash that inevitably results. It has been funny to gauge my own reactions against those of the team. I suppose that will happen continuously, as I stay while others come and go. My own opinions will deepen, become more nuanced, and I’ll never again be able to look at Cambodia as any other developing nation. It will always be a place I’ve lived, a place I’ve cared about, a place I’ve struggled to understand.

Here’s where my bi-polarity of feeling is evident. In explaining Cambodia to these visitors, I have remembered why I love it. In growing frustrated with Cambodian culture, especially through my work, I remember what is so easy about the US. It’s a duality I’m learning to live with, and as I do so, I’m not pouting so much. In fact, as I sat in my office today, I realized that I no longer wake up every morning and think “I’m in Cambodia.” My job, my life, and this place are starting to feel like home. I’m not pouting anymore.