you don't know how far you've gone or recognize who you've become how'd you get to be so hard

it's interesting to have jeremy and ben here to talk to – people from a western culture that has a similar work ethic and environmental attitude to our own in the states (well, my own). i find that we complain a lot, talk about the problems a lot. i am ... surprised to find how pessimistic and often judgmental i find myself to be.

i don't like that.

i never would have called myself a pessimist before coming here. sure, i definitely go through those glass-half-empty moments (of differing lengths), but as a whole, i'd say i am fairly optimistic about life, about finding solutions.

but here .... wow it is hard to be optimistic about the environmental situation here.

as we've (that being jeremy, ben, and i) discussed, the culture and the solution are at odds. the culture (as far as i can tell) is reluctant to change. they seem to be quick to blame, but slow (or resistant) to acknowledging their (as an individual, organization, whatever) contribution to the problem. and when you combine that with a slow-paced culture that doesn't seem to want to change, then nothing does. and these environmental problems need attention now. there is not time to be reluctant or complacent with what is happening. it is probably already too late for many of these communities.

and god it just is ... awful to say that.

i spend a lot of time wondering what it is that i'm trying to do here. before i arrived, when i thought i'd be stepping into a set program, i thought that i would try to help out with education of the people as much as possible. i thought the infrastructure would already be there and that people would be interested and eager to try to fix the problem. or that they would be open to doing something about it.

and instead ... i feel like i am trying to change something that cannot be changed. that no matter what i do, i will leave and anything i have suggested or done will be forgotten or ignored. because there is all this talk, but to actually do ... i still cannot figure out how to "do" anything here.

jeremy, ben, and i have made a list of things "to do" while they are here. and i think we may be able to do them. but in the back of my head, i keep thinking, "well i've been trying to organize that meeting for two months now and it still hasn't happened" or "they told me we'd put buoys in six weeks ago and it still hasn't happened" or "we were supposed to start collecting data for the CRMP a month ago and every time i bring it up they say, 'oh yes, next week'" or ... the list just goes on.

how does one stop being a do-er? i am a do-er and the time i spend in idleness here drives me crazy. i've read nearly every book in english i can find between the two houses, i've finished a book of crosswords, i've drawn pictures of fish to work on learning how to identify. i go for walks, i go for bike rides, i go for swims, and still i seem to spend a lot of time sitting around, staring aimlessly as people walk by the store.

am i even making a difference here? people back in the states tell me that yes, just my being here makes a difference, but man oh man it doesn't feel like it at all.

i feel like i'm at such a loss of what to do. and not just me personally, but everyone working towards conservation and sustainability. do we just give up? do we only focus our efforts on places where the culture is open to change and ready to do put in the effort to do what is necessary? and how can you make decisions like that? how can you just give up? the answer, i think, is that you can't, but this week it is hard for me to grasp onto that optimism.

i had a bit of a break-down, caused by these personal struggles and the fact that things have been a bit odd with my host family this week, and found myself crying on the phone to brad and then to my parents, trying to work things out. and although i am still unhappy with these above thoughts, my pessimism, and struggle with boredom (seriously, when was the last time i was bored?), they make me feel better and give me the strength to keep doing this. i would not be able to survive here without their support and hearing their voices. or without the e-mails from people back in the states and the reassurance such reminders that there are people out there who care hold. so, (not to get all sappy), but thanks for reading this; it means more than i can say.