swimming upstream

They tell you in your pre-field training that living in another culture can bring new levels of self-awareness—and it's not always easy--in fact, sometimes it's downright painful. Well, that's been true this week for me.

I have always known that I am a slightly Type A personality when it comes to office environments. I admit it: I like structure, organization, meetings, planning, clear expectations and deadlines. I definitely value relationships (though much more so in my personal life) and take initiative to cultivate them, but I also take a strong interest in getting things done.

However, it's becoming clear that my office here in Nicaragua is Type B—and in fact, the entire country is decidedly Type B, laid back, relaxed and ambiguous in many respects (which is to be expected in a relationally driven culture, but also leads to things like “la hora nica”, wherein every appointment is “mas o menos” and one is only truly late after an hour).

The funny thing is, when it comes to the tangible organization of space (like desks or closets, for example), I am decidedly Type B (as Andrea could attest). But, when it comes to mental organization, I have my own file cabinet with invisible color coded labels for everything imaginable. I never forget things I read or that people tell me, I always remember times of appointments, promises, etc. Even in my personal life, I hate being late—but yet I love spontaneity of plans, like the day Andrea and I decided to randomly explore a new bus route one Saturday.

But perhaps it is something about being immersed in this “extreme” Type B context that pushes me into my more Type A coping strategies for dealing with the stress of the unfamiliar. I crave meetings, plans, prioritized goals, information, the concrete, the knowable to help me navigate this vast ocean of uncertainty in which I live each day. Lately I have felt like I have been swimming upstream, as I suggest/implement a few new features of our office life as part of my role in the area of communications.

The absence of some anchors of “normalcy” in one of my primary contexts of cultural learning and adjustment (my office) lately has led me to this prickly place of insecurity and helplessness where I sit and sigh and wonder: is there a place for a Type A fish like me in the Type B lake of Nicaragua?