Eat Pray Love and the beauty of the written word

Before I begin, let me put a disclaimer on this blog: I am not one of those people that particularly enjoys reading about other people’s lives. What I mean to say is, I prefer to read about fiction with made up people and situations. I figure if I want to learn about other’s lives I can just listen and look to the people in my own life. I enjoy hearing about people who have made a difference in the world, who have given inspiration, and so some biographies are interesting to me. But when it comes to books where people “find themselves” or who publish something to say they are published, I generally keep walking past that part of the bookshelf. Another disclaimer: I am also not a huge believer in people who think they have to travel to find balance. I love to travel, I mean—I’m writing this from Ethiopia. But, I am here for reasons I’m still trying to figure out, not because I needed a break from the world I was living in, or because of some path of destiny that led me here.

With both of those disclaimers written, I can say that “Eat Pray Love” was so not on my top list of books to read. Yes, I knew that it was a hit with many groups of friends, book clubs, and women in general and has been for many years. Yes, I have seen the movie (although like all book to movie adaptations the movie was vastly different). And yes, I knew that it wasn’t considered a classic and wouldn’t change my life in any huge way. But despite all of that, I decided after having read a string of sad, long, or heavy books that I needed a break from that. I needed a book I could just read for the pleasure of the written word without having to delve into anything too deeply. “Eat Pray Love” is one of those books you read at the beach with a pina colada or curled up on the couch with a glass (or bottle) of wine. Just the sort of escape I need having been in Ethiopia for almost a year, but with a year and about 3 months left.

I began reading thinking I knew exactly what was going to happen. After all, I had seen the movie. I know, I know. I shouldn’t come to expect that. I have read way too many books that became movies to have assumed that, but for some reason that notion was still in my head. However, I realized that the movie changed characters, who said what, who impacted her in what ways, and how things fit into her life. One thing it did not change: my position on her. I don’t mean to judge, and I know that everyone handles things differently and that situations are different for every person. But to me, I was really annoyed with her and how she handled her situation for the entire book. This author wrote her honest and truthful opinion and feelings, for millions of people to read. But for me, I rolled my eyes through most of it. She acts as if she is the only person in the world to go through a divorce and heart break, and she acts more like a spoiled 17 year old than a grown up woman. She acts as if she is the only person who has ever had to rebuild her life, and even as others around her were going through much tougher things, she continuously harped back to her divorce and failed relationship. But this blog isn’t about that, it’s about what she learned through her journeys through Italy, India, and Bali that weirdly and deeply apply to my own experiences through this past year.

“This is a sweet expression. Bel far niente means ‘the beauty of doing nothing.’… There’s another wonderful Italian expression: l’arte d’arrangiarsi- the art of making something out of nothing. The art of turning a few simple ingredients into a feast, or a few gathered friends into a festival. Anyone with a talent for happiness can do this”

I have always been a planner. I am my mother’s daughter. I have a pretty constant need to make sure I have a list or a plan. Even if I don’t follow it, even if it never gets read- having it there makes me feel better. I am not sure why, but knowing that a schedule is in place calms me down, where to others it makes them feel trapped. I am also someone that keeps busy. I have to be doing something. I worked, took classes, student taught, and was in Chi Omega my senior year of college. I like to be doing something, because even if I’m stressed, at least I feel like I’m accomplishing something. Therefore, Ethiopia and Peace Corps has been a serious challenge in more than one way. Not only have I had to learn how to let my control freak in me go, but I have had to realize what it means to be alone with my thoughts for the first time in a long time. Bel far niente in Italy means something different than bel far niente in Ethiopia, different countries, different cultures. But the idea is the same. The idea here that you can’t start a meeting until you have had shay buna, which can include an entire coffee ceremony, or that school doesn’t really start until teachers and students feel like coming. The control part of me has had to adapt to this rhythm, and although I’m still learning and adapting, I think I am a more relaxed person, although I’m sure some of my friends would disagree with me. I am now ok with (and actually prefer) to spend time alone in my room, reading, listening to music, or coloring. I enjoy socializing, but unlike back home where I always needed to have plans, here sometimes sitting with my thoughts is much more enjoyable to me. It took coming to a place and being forced to be “flexible” (Peace Corps favorite word) where I have begun to understand the idea of bel far niente.

“Attraversiamo”

This is not really a quote from this book, it’s a single Italian word that means “let’s cross over”. It’s an important one in the book, although the movie makes it even more so. In my life, it means more than crossing a street like how it’s intended. I entered this journey almost a year ago and have come to realize that crossing over is more than getting on a plane, or crossing the finish line. It’s about being willing to step into the unknown, cross an invisible boundary out of your comfort zone, and make yourself vulnerable while at the same time making yourself stronger. I’m getting philosophical here, exactly what drove me crazy about the book. But it’s true, attreversiamo means different things to different people. For me, it gives me a word to explain what I did when I stepped on the plane to Ethiopia, when I walked across the stage at the US Embassy after shaking hands with the ambassador, and what I did the first time I walked out of the bus station in Adwa. I “crossed over” to a new life and a new adventure.

“I don’t care how diligently scholars of every religion will try to sit you down with their stacks of books and prove to you through scripture that their faith is indeed rational; it isn’t. If faith were rational, it won’t be- by definition- faith. Faith is the belief in what you cannot see or prove or touch. Faith is walking face-first and full-speed into the dark. If we truly knew all the answers in advance as to the meaning of life and the nature of God and the destiny of our souls, our belief would not be a leap of faith and it would not be a courageous act of humanity; it would just be… a prudent insurance policy”

I go to church. I was baptized and grew up in the same church in Albuquerque, New Mexico. I am a Christian, and even though I have not attended a church service in a year, I still pray every morning and every evening. I went through a short period where I didn’t, but that has less to do with a rebellion or a change of heart, than mere forgetfulness. Not to say I forgot God or how to pray, but I became so wrapped up in myself that the idea of praying just didn’t occur to me. But here I am in Ethiopia, and I have realized that my faith is actually getting stronger. This just proves that you don’t have to attend church to be a true believer. This book had a lot about faith, especially in the second part while she was in India. Not surprising since Liz was at an ashram, surrounded by faith. There were many quotes that could have come from other deep philosophers instead of a middle aged women writing about “finding herself”, but this one stuck to me as the most important in my own journey. As I already talked about with the Italian word attreversiamo, this experience has given me more about trusting and faith than I ever thought possible. I have always been a guarded person and never thought of myself as vulnerable. I rarely cry in front of people, and I like to consider myself strong. Being vulnerable has never been an appealing thing, but coming to Ethiopia I have had to lean on my faith more than I ever realized would be possible. I have had to walk face-first and full-speed into the dark. I thought I knew what I was getting myself into after having read blogs, Peace Corps related materials, and Facebook but boy was I wrong. This life I’m leading is not one that can ever be explained in pictures or words. As brilliant a writer or as fantastic a photographer a person may be, there is no way to show what you will truly experience. The random moments that make my life as crazy and charmed as it is can no way be explained, or experienced first hand. But those are only made when you let go and let yourself be led into the unknown. The random wedding invitations, the twirling kids, the buna ceremonies with teachers, are all part of a world that I would not be a part of if I didn’t take a giant leap of faith every time I step out the door and if I didn’t let down my guard to let God be in control and take me where I need to go. My faith has become stronger through hoping and knowing that I am being led and protected to where I need to go and who I am supposed to become, even in the moments where it seems like it’s just a dark tunnel with no end.

“There is so much about my fate that I cannot control, but other things do fall under my jurisdiction. There are certain lottery tickets I can buy, thereby increasing my odds of finding contentment. I can decide how I spend my time, whom I interact with, whom I share my body and life and money and energy with. I can select what I eat and read and study. I can choose how I’m going to regard unfortunate circumstances in my life- whether I will see them as curses or opportunities (and on the occasions when I can’t rise to the most optimistic viewpoint, because I’m feeling too damn sorry for myself, I can choose to keep trying to change my outlook). I can choose my words and the tone of voice in which I speak to others. And most of all, I can choose my thoughts”

I tend to pride myself on being a person who has a “I totally know what I’m doing” attitude, even when I have absolutely no idea what I’m doing. I don’t like to be vulnerable and I think of myself as being a strong person. I try not to cry in front of people, although when I’m alone that’s a different story. With all of that being said, it’s hard in new situations not to turn yourself into the victim many times. Although there are certainly situations that are appropriate to blame on others, both through their actions and what becomes of them, I think we sometimes lean too heavily on the easy way out. It’s easy, especially as a person who is in a different place than normal, to blame where you are, who you are, and how you act on others, on things that are out of your control. Again, some things are. What is in our control is how we react to those people, those situations, those great and tough times. I forget them. I have too often here taken the road of letting myself become a victim. It’s enough to blame cultural differences, without really owning up to how I could take control and change myself. There are plenty of things in Ethiopia and Peace Corps that I can’t change, there are cultural differences that do make things more difficult and sometimes impossible, and there are people that do things that challenge us in new ways. But, if I have learned nothing else so far, it’s that I’m still the person in control of my fate. Sure, I can’t control when students and teachers show up to school, I can’t change the crazy guy yelling naked on the street, I can’t control creepy marriage proposals, and I can’t change donkeys that wander in front of a racing mini bus. But I can control how I act to the students and teachers that do come in hopes they will inspire others to show up, I can control how I think about the crazy guy yelling and remember he has a story too, I can control how I react to the creepy marriage proposals so as not to bring on more, and I can change my frightened persona in a mini bus to one who laughs at the absurdity of it all. No matter how difficult it may be, especially when situations just seem beyond my control and reach, that like Liz, I can in fact, choose my words and the tone of voice in which I speak to others. And most of all, I can choose my thoughts. Because my thoughts turn to words and actions, which in turn, show my community who I am.

“She says that people universally tend to think that happiness is a stroke of luck, something that will maybe descend upon you like fine weather if you’re fortunate enough. But that’s not how happiness works. Happiness is the consequence of personal effort. You fight for it, strive for it, insist upon it, and sometimes even travel around the world looking for it. You have to participate relentlessly in the manifestations of your own blessings.”

Happiness is a word that means something different to each person, and can change depending on the mood of each person. As I am reminded by one of the journals I was given as a graduation/going away to Ethiopia present, “Happiness is a journey, not a destination”. We as humans are always working for the next thing, the end result. Even those who truly enjoy what they do, who stop and smell the roses, even they are looking for something at the end. We are trained to look for the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow, when really the thing of beauty- the rainbow, is right in front of us. Well, joke is on us- because there is no pot of gold and there is no end of the rainbow. We might go searching for it, and we forget to take what is real, what is beautiful, and what we should be concentrating on. Another thing about happiness is that we tend to think it will just happen. If we get what we think we want, if we reach what we have been working for, that we will instantly be happy. But that’s also false. We don’t just become happy. Sure, there are things that when happen give us a smile or make us feel less sad. But, that’s not true happiness. Happiness is not a destination that once we get there we will stay at. It’s how we get somewhere. I never really enjoyed “the little things” back in the US. Sure, there were things, people, times that made me happy. But I was guilty of always wanting something more, always thinking I would be happy if I just did one more thing. But then I did something crazy, I decided to try and find happiness on the other side of the world. I haven’t always been happy over here. In fact, over the past year I have cried more than I can ever remember, I have been more down than ever. But on the opposite end, I have come to realize moments of true happiness. They didn’t just appear, I had to work at them. They weren’t big moments either. My greatest happiness here has come from “the little things” like having my hair braided by 6 year olds, having an old lady smile at me at market when she found I spoke even a word of her language, coffee with my landfamily, watching a new couple at a wedding, twirling neighborhood kids, having a student speak up in class for the first time, or being called “Ms. Kelsey” in a random bus station. I have always thought that happiness would come from something big, from an “ah-ha!” moment, but in fact I have found happiness in random things that I never thought would be that special, but somehow they are truly the memories I hold most dear.

“I think about the woman I have become lately, about the life that I am now living, and about how much I always wanted to be this person and live this life, liberated from the farce of pretending to be anyone other than myself… Knowing already that everything would be OK, that everything would eventually bring us together here. Right here, right to this moment. Where I was always waiting in peace and contentment, always waiting for her to arrive and join me”

This comes towards the end of the book, where she has been through the food of Italy, the faith of India, and the balance of Bali. She has seen and experienced more in these pages than a lot of people will experience in their lifetime. That being said, she has just seen a small bit of each of these places, even though she has lived in each one for 4 months. I am not much better—living in a place even for 2 years is not that much. Sure, I am integrating, working, and becoming more a part of the community than she ever did. But I’m still an outsider. I have been able to do a lot of thinking about the person I have become this past year. I have talked with my friends here, and back home about tendencies I have developed, patterns I have established, and parts of my personality that have come out more since being here. I don’t believe people change so rapidly that they become a completely different person in the span of a year, but I do think when thrown in new and strange situations, you can become a different version of yourself. I find myself acting in ways I never would have in the US, like ignoring people on the street, yelling at students, and becoming more of an introvert. However, I have also grown in ways, like being willing to talk to my neighbors, try new foods, and just experience everything that Ethiopia has to offer. I am not at the place of peace and contentment that Liz was at when she wrote this. I don’t think I will ever be there. In fact, if anything this experience has made me more jaded and tough. But, I do think what I have experienced, seen, and felt in this past year has made me the woman I am today. I am not necessarily the person I want to be, and I never would have pictured my life this way, but I am teaching, experiencing a new culture, and traveling. This is what I have always wanted to do. I have not had a chance to travel so far, like I wanted. But I still have the travel bug that I have always had. I have always been a little afraid to step out of my comfort zone, but with this I jumped into a new environment head first, and that’s given me the courage to want to travel like Liz and experience even more of the world, even if it is just a post card glimpse.

“In the end, though, maybe we must all give up trying to pay back the people in this world who sustain our lives. In the end, maybe it’s wiser to surrender before the miraculous scope of human generosity and to just keep saying thank you, forever and sincerely, for as long as we have voices”

I feel like every blog I write has something to do with friends and family back home and here. I sometimes think you might get bored of being thanked. After all, I’m the one who is doing this crazy thing, why do you all need to be thanked? Every time I try to talk about myself and where I am though, I come to the same conclusion—I would not be here and doing this if it wasn’t for the amazing people in my life, so I will say thank you about 500 million more times. It is true that we make our own destiny, that we take control of our lives, and that we are the reason for being where we are. But in all honesty, no one would be where they are without the profound influence of people in their lives—good and bad. I am blessed to have great influencers around me that have helped guide me. I have memories, lessons, and blessings from every one in my life that have stuck with me through it all. I have experienced the miraculous scope of human generosity in my own life, before this journey and on this journey. I have seen the selflessness of my family and friends as they have guided me to help me become the woman I am today. But I have also seen this in my fellow volunteers and people in my community. I have seen and experienced first hand the incredible generosity of humans, from a volunteer who helped pay for a students school fees because the grandmother couldn’t to a random man on a bus who helped get me back to site after my bus broke down and then invited me to his mothers house for buna and food. I have been blessed with friends and family who pray for others even when they are down themselves, who send me pick me ups when I need them most, who spend their phone birr to make sure I’m ok, who ask how my cousin is recovering, who come in and talk to my classes when I was having discipline problems, who invite me for buna when the power is out, and who greet me with a smile when I’m about to cry. Thanks never seems enough, and even Liz agrees, but those are sometimes the only words that can even begin to express my feelings. Being here has truly shown me how loved I am back home, how grateful I am for the people here, and how incredible human beings can be.