Today I had a mini-QLC breakdown. It was only mini because I had to leave to volunteer before I could full out lose it. It started something like this:
My Husband: What are you going to do once you leave Italy?
Me: Teach English in Turkey, work at a resort in Egypt, volunteer in Kenya, show tourists the beaches of Costa Rica, pick fruit in Australia, cruise the waters with Royal Caribbean, or dodge pirates on a rich person’s yacht.
Me: Teach English in Turkey, work at a resort in Egypt, volunteer in Kenya, show tourists the beaches of Costa Rica, pick fruit in Australia, cruise the waters with Royal Caribbean, or dodge pirates on a rich person’s yacht.
My Husband: Right, ok….sounds good….
Me: So yeah, no idea. *pause* Ohmigod I have no idea.
*Insert freak out here*
Like I said though, I couldn’t let it become a full-blown panic attack because I had to go downtown and volunteer. Currently I spend my afternoons as a literacy tutor at the International Institute. The International Institute helps refugees and immigrants in the area through a number of great programs. As a literacy tutor I help teach basic reading and writing, while I also help prepare students for the Citizenship Test. This is the test that those refugees/immigrants who want to become U.S. citizens have to pass in order to get citizenship. Let me tell you, there are hard questions on this test. Ones that I probably only knew the answer to while I was taking Mr. Monahan’s 8th grade Civics Class.
Click here to look at some sample questions if you feel like quizzing yourself (I personally like #72): Sample INS Citizenship Test Questions
Back to the point though, I was wondering about the not-to-distant-future and had just put “lose weight because can’t afford to eat a whole lot” into the pro column of my mental To Live Abroad list, when I pulled into the parking lot; time to focus on other people and leave my problems in the car. Five minutes later I was sitting at a table with some of my favorite students, reading a book about baby animals. The women were refugees from several African countries, and we got to talking about which of the animals they had in their home countries. I was trying to explain the meaning of the word “mischievous” (which is really difficult when using simple English words) when the women started talking about how naughty raccoons and monkeys were back home. That behavior right there – those animals are “mischievous." Everyone understood the word, wonderful! but when were they going to use it?
I ask if the women had children. I figured I could segue into talking about how children are mischievous, while also getting to know them a bit better. Yes the women have children, in fact, it turns out some also have grandchildren. Ok these women did not look old enough to be grandmothers and I tell them as much. They laugh heartily and ask how old I am. I say, “I’m 25.” The girl next to me says “I’m 24.” One of the grandmothers then asks us how many kids we have. Now it’s my turn to laugh. The women stare at me in confusion. They then ask the 24 year old, who is apparently smarter than I, because she answers “None. They’re too expensive.” Everyone nods in understanding. That only lasts a few seconds though because they start telling us we must start having children right away. We are getting old.
Wait, wait, wait. Getting old? I can’t even decide what country to live in and they want me to start popping out children? Well first I need a guy to help with that and second no thank you. I’m as close to having children as I was when I was 18. Hello, I still am a child! Ooops, I said that part out loud.
“You’re a grown woman! Time to have babies!” That’s a summary of what the growing crowd is telling myself and the 24-year-old. Damn her, why couldn’t I be sitting next to a 30-year-old childless lady? Then they’d pay more attention to her. Oh well, I’m the focus so I’ll roll with it. This is what I’m thinking when they tell me girls start having babies as early as 15 in their countries. I think my jaw dropped. They definitely laughed at some part of my reaction. An Eastern European girl joins in here, telling me her sister has 6 kids and is my age. I almost pass out at the thought of having had 6 children by today. I turn to the lady next to me, “Doesn’t that hurt?!” More laughter. I’m a regular comedian. They all tell me no, it doesn’t hurt, but wait, really they don’t remember. Maybe that can go in the pro column of the Have Children Early list: “No memory of pain.” Too bad the con column has – in bold letters – “Very painful.”
At this point one of the quieter women stands up and takes off her coat. I've never seen her take off that coat. We take notice. Even if she had kept the coat on, the next thing she does would definitely have made everyone look. She grabs my purse - a big one, full of stuff ranging from a book to a full water bottle – puts it on top of her head and starts walking back and forth across the room. It’s National Geographic meets Coach. Then she ties her scarf around her body and imitates carrying a baby (using a cell phone as the child) and makes periodic crying noises where she then takes the phone out of the scarf and puts it in her bra. Women are whooping and laughing hysterically when a male volunteer walks into the room. At this exact moment the woman has the phone baby nestled against her bosom while continuing to walk with the bag on her head; the guy takes one look at this, looks at me and walks out of the room.
“That’s what men in Africa do too!” More riotous laughter. I join in. Apparently men the world over avoid caring for babies, even phone babies.
Eventually everyone calmed down and we got back to the important work of learning national holidays. While they were filling out a worksheet I realized I hadn’t thought about my earlier worries in hours. The only time it came up this afternoon was during the following conversation:
Student: Are you working?
Me: No. I am getting my certification so I can teach English in another country.
Me: No. I am getting my certification so I can teach English in another country.
Student: Where will you teach?
Me: I don’t know. Maybe Turkey.
Me: I don’t know. Maybe Turkey.
Student: Don’t go to Turkey. Everyone is poor. It’s no good there.
Me: Well I like kebabs.
Student: I love kebabs! Turkish food is great!
Me: I know. That’s why I might work in Turkey.
(There are other reasons I am considering living in Turkey. The food is #3, right behind “it’s close to Italy so I can easily afford the plane ticket,” and “it’s not in the EU so I can stay there as long as I want.”)
On my drive home I stopped to pick up a kebab and reflected on my afternoon. At noon I was almost in tears because I had images of myself sitting alone in a bare room in Eastern Europe/cabin on the ocean/hut in Africa being so lonely I would have to resort to conversing with a pet goat/seagull/turtle. At four o’clock I realized several important things:
- I can find girlfriends anywhere that women can bond over how unhelpful and stupid men are
- choosing what foreign country to live in is really not a big deal when compared to having a government relocate you because of war, famine, disease, genocide, or all of the above
- Although I don't want to live in the U.S. at the moment, I am very lucky to have been born an American citizen because no way could I pass the Citizenship Test
As I put my concerns into perspective I came to the most important conclusion of the day:
I would have had a much larger panic attack had I been looking at a positive pregnancy test instead of a list of ridiculous/awesome jobs in faraway/awesome places.
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