Waxing and Waning of FSI Life

More than a few people in my life have shared their advice about managing stress during periods of change or difficulty. The more delicate folks said, "don't make any drastic decisions if you don't have to" while others sensibly suggested "don't do anything stupid." Well, we all know that is easier said than done. 

This past week was a little tougher than usual. Nothing significant happened other than dealing with the elation-depression cycle of seeing friends and family come and go. It's always the feeling of "didn't you just get here?" Class continued on at its usual warp speed but this week we learned the fourth out of God-knows-how-many-Portuguese-verb-tenses and I completed my first evaluation.  Not a super-mega fun time, but also no big deal. I did fine, yet oddly I found myself emotionally overwhelmed. Suddenly I couldn't engage in basic Portuguese or even English conversations; still no big deal-- logically I knew life would go on, but I started crying. I HATE crying. I am an ugly crier too. I get the type of swollen-face-blotch that takes days to go away and with the amount of tears and snot I shed, I also look dehydrated and listless. I will make a great zombie, come the day.

Ok then. I cried at school. I was stressed about small stuff, and even more stressed because I know there's an infinite amount of worse things in this world than stressing about my self centered feelings. So once more felt the urge to make a change; to do something drastic. When I don't feel like dealing with stress, usually the first thing I want to do is get a hair cut. To me, there's something satisfying about the sound of scissors cutting snippets of hair and watching it fall to the floor, and letting go of what little control I think I have. I've had many, many bad haircuts because of this, while knowing full well I shouldn't do anything drastic when stressed.

Did I get a hair cut? Not exactly. In the spirit of pending beach time, tropical weather and Brazilian beauty standards I felt the need to try something new. Knowing full well I could regret my decision, I marched (ok, skirted) into the salon for my first bikini wax. Can't say I felt too great about it as I stared wincingly at the ceiling, with visions of Steve Carrell seared into my brain- but I followed through. It's too soon to tell what my next move might be, but right now I'm thinking a traditional hair cut might be nice. Or maybe a pedicure.

Portuguese Class

To my surprise, the past few months of my life have involved extraordinary amounts of role playing, experimentation, and self study. I've been singing in public, developing intimate relationships with more people than my husband, and working on what I hope to be an improved worldly version of myself: After six weeks,  I'm ankle deep into a full body immersion of learning a foreign language. As many people already know, the Schlink's are bound for Recife, Brazil this fall and I've had the fortunate opportunity to take a full time, 24 week Portuguese class.

When I'm not trying to find my head from my ass, I am genuinely enjoying my time. I have about five hours of instruction per day, sprinkled with several hours of computer lab time.  My three classmates, all officers and all bound for Sao Paulo are remarkably tolerant of my bizarre sense of humor. I might even dare to say they like me. We spend a lot of time together stumbling through the language but what's cool, is how we bring different strengths to the table. One student has amazing comprehension, one has great accent and is very deliberate with speaking. The third has an intense dedication to learning and as for me- I am good at asking interesting questions and I can keep dialogue moving along.  Despite the obvious building of accents, sentence structures, and vocabulary skills, we act out plays, sing songs, play games and drink Brazilian cocktails sometimes. And, because we learn the language by talking about what we know, they know a lot about my family; and subsequently how boring my life has become since starting class.

Caprinhas: made with Cachaça, a distilled sugar cane juice,
açúcar e limão verde. It will knock your socks off.
Seriously. I don't have anymore socks.

In fact, one of the most "exciting" things in my life right now is when I record my voice while reading sentences in Portuguese. The lab is frequently stuffed with students practicing anything from Chinese to Amharic to Italian so it is essential to keep our voices low. We wear headsets that allow us to listen and speak our chosen language, so imagine ME whispering a grocery list into your ear with my husky Portuguese accent. Pretty disturbing isn't it? Every time I play back my recordings, I can't control myself; I feel like a 1-900 girl. Hopefully it will all be worth it in the end.

Making the decision to take a full time class wasn't one I made lightly. For weeks I agonized over education versus a triumphant return to nursing while back in the states. I missed being a financial contributor and wanted to dust off my scrub pants and feel like a real professional again. I missed playing with blood and guts, and taking care of patients. But after looking past the 8-10 month training period, Mark and I agreed language would better benefit my independence in Recife, and with luck I could get a job down there; maybe as a nurse, maybe not. We made our decision, designed a budget and a schedule to keep our lives somewhat in control and went for it. I don't regret it, though the student on the computer next to me might once he hears my grocery list in Portuguese.