Orienting towards the Orient

Late Tuesday night (after spending a week in Guatemala and three and a half days in Boise), I arrived in Washington, DC for the Pre-Departure Orientation. Orientation didn’t start until Wednesday at 5, so I spent most of the day roaming DC, seeing Bo (the Obama’s dog) on the White House lawn, going to art museums, and getting caught in a downpour on my way back to the hotel. On Thursday, Fulbrighters headed for Indonesia, Laos, Macau, Malaysia, Mongolia, Taiwan, Thailand, and Vietnam spent more than twelve hours getting a crash-course in teacher training, bombarding the alumni with questions, and getting to know each other. That night I dreamt that I was riding up and down the hotel’s elevator trying to find someone who could answer some big Vietnam-related question that I can no longer remember. Friday was more of the same: more panels, more teacher-training, and more questions, and more network building before jetting back home.

After these few days, what is in store for me feels much less nebulous, much more real, and yet still inconceivable. Every assignment is unique, so as much as I would like to say that everything is clear now, I only understand a variety of possibilities regarding what I might be doing and how I might want to prepare.Probably the most valuable or important lessons from orientation had little to do with the scheduled activities. The beginning of this adventure has not been without its frustrations. This summer it felt like information came at a trickle, questions were not always answered promptly, and sometimes I was left feeling like a screwup. Surely I was the only one who was confused about what I was supposed to be doing and when. Talking to my ‘cohort’, I realized I was most certainly not the only one. In fact, compared to some people it could even be said that I was in good shape. Talking to my peers also gave me something to look forward to. We are a good group, and establishing that human connection eradicates one more element of mystery.

We’ll see each other again in two weeks. I’ll be landing in Vietnam in two weeks. Two weeks. Two weeks until my life rotates 180 degrees and the only thing I can do is put one foot in front of the other. It feels like I’m making a huge, irreversible change. Ten months isn’t the rest of my life, but on this side of it it sure feels like a long time. I’m processing. I’m getting ready.