3-Month Mark

            Once you have spent enough time away from home reflecting on the various nuances of life abroad you come to accept certain things.  Nothing will be exactly the same as it is back home, so there is no point wasting your time attempting to wish it to be so.  Initial culture shock runs out, you accept the differences and for the most part move on.   However, everyone has a limit on how much patience they can exhibit before frustration takes over.  For me, this happens around the 3-month mark. 

            It is becoming increasingly clear that after 3 months I get fairly pissed off with the whole ordeal and want to throw my hands up in the air and walk away.  For the first month or so after my arrival, or after a vacation, things generally go really well.  It isn’t “new” again, but I am well refreshed after seeing the world outside of Duhok, Iraq.  I can easily accept things as they are here because I have just seen what things can be.  I have loads of patience, settle back into my routine, and for the most part enjoy the little niche I have carved out for myself.

            Then, at about the 2-2.5 month mark, I start to break.  I look around and instead of pulling the positives out of this experience I start to condemn this place for what it is not.  No financial system to deposit money, no variety in food, can’t speak to anybody, workforce is untrained and lazy, students are unmotivated, no night life, only one close friend here, girlfriend isn’t here…the list goes on.  Each day presents a new reason why the country sucks and is at least 50 years behind America. 

            Clearly, this is a terrible attitude to take and is only manifesting itself as a result of the continued frustrations of having to face these challenges with little to no reprieve.  The only solution: another vacation.  I need to get out of the country every 3 months.  It is a must.  If I don’t, my level of disdain will just continue to fester and I won’t enjoy myself.  I am not complaining that this is an overly difficult experience, it certainly is not, but as anyone who has lived in the Middle East can tell you….it ain’t nothing like home. 

Lunch with the Governor….he had a great house, most likely funded with “wasta” money, aka corruption.  It was an enjoyable experience, but I am not a fan of pomp and spectacles, and I am certainly not a high class individual who will kiss someone’s ass because of their position.  When all the “grown ups” were in a room talking, in Kurdish, about local issues I just left to hang out with the students.  It was much more fun.  He seemed like a decent guy though, and I hope he invites me back for a summer pool party....lol.