I wondered whether I should post this, and then I thought ‘fuck it’.
I tend not to write about work or emotional stuff too much on here, because it’s easy enough to find out who I am. Blogging about work is a risky business as many bloggers know, and these days I don’t find it easy to share my innermost angst with the internet.  Anyway, saying that, this post is about both work, and my emotional health, shaky as it has been at times. Just FYI.
It’s been a tough year for me (oh woe, drama etc. Wish list on the right, thanks.). There have been days, often many consecutive ones, when I’ve lain in the bath for hours, unable to move, or to stop crying, completely incapable of either understanding or getting rid of the cloud of despair that hovered around my head all day, every day for about three months.
There have been a few reasons for this: my break up and subsequent attempt to be friends with my ex-bloke has been particularly tough, and although I hate to admit it, almost six months on I still ache about it from time to time, even though I wouldn’t have him back now if the deal involved a lifetime’s supply of jaffa cakes and a beach house in the Caribbean.
Work is another reason. I’ve felt consistently that I’m not achieving what I set out to do here, that I’ve set myself too big a task, and that I am being sucked into the quicksand of permanent unemployability because in the face of the biggest challenge I have ever faced, I have been sinking.  To say it’s been a blow to my self-confidence is an understatement.
For a while, I was desperately homesick, and lonely, and confused about the future, despite my wonderful friends, and an experience that most people would kill for.
And to top it off, I have had to work in close proximity with one of the laziest, most irritating and deeply unpleasant individuals you could ever have the misfortune to meet. Imagine coming into work every morning to be greeted by such gems as “Don’t you think it would be fun to pick a fight with a paraplegic?â€, or “You look like a cross between a 12 year old and a 40 year old woman in those stupid clothesâ€. That’s not to mention the unwanted physical attention, the hair stroking, the head-kissing; the other things about him that made me feel physically sick.
This blog has saved me in so many ways. Without it, I wouldn’t have had the incentive to get up every morning, and to try and find something to laugh about. I wouldn’t have had the pleasure of writing to fall back on. I can’t express how much I enjoy it, even though often I’m stuck for words, and feel about as interesting as a plate of semolina. I know that it’s probably silly to invest so much in a something so small, but I honestly feel that without it, I would have been so lost.
It got to the point, about six weeks ago, when I was ready to throw in the towel and go home, tail between my legs. An argument with my dickhead colleague about an email I’d sent my boss concerning his behaviour resulted in death threats and talk of revenge, and two days of blessed silence. When it all began again I went to VSO for the first time since I got here.
I spent so many months thinking that I should be able to do this on my own, that by the time it was almost too late, I did what I should have done in the beginning. I sat in their office, and I tried to talk about my problems in a rational, and controlled manner, as befitting the professional person that I strive to be. But in the end I just sat and cried.
Now, after only the second sexual harassment case to be brought in Namibia, I am free of my nemesis. The experience was deeply unpleasant, particularly the hearing, where I had to sit next to him and elaborate on the many demeaning and sickening comments he has consistently subjected me to over the last five months; where I had to endure the questions he asked me that were designed to humiliate and discredit me. Fortunately I had nothing to hide, and I’m glad that I went through with it. I hope it encourages others to do the same.
As far as work is concerned, I’ve managed to complete the task that scared me the most. I might still have fucked it up, but at least it’s done. From here on in, it can only get better.
And as for my personal life, the fact remains that there seem to be no eligible men whatsoever in Namibia. The prospect of a year of celibacy doesn’t exactly fill me with joy, but I expect there are positive things I can take from it, not least that by the time I do eventually have sex again, I’ll be so completely delighted that it’s bound to be mind-blowing.
So, things are looking up. I’m not going home, even though many of my friends are, and some have already left. I will miss them, but not as much as I would miss Namibia if I left now, before I am ready.
‘There’ll be ups and downs’, VSO said, when we were preparing for a departure, eager and excited, and all convinced that our time abroad was going to be a bed of delightful smelling roses. ‘It’s going to be tough sometimes’, they said, ‘but it will be worth it in the end.’
I had no idea how right they would be.
September 18th, 2006 at 8:43 pm
Hey Rach, though I certainly feel that Lychee may catch on, I’m only now beginning to realise how low you’ve been and feel awful for not being more of use. I just wanted to say thank you sweetheart. Thank you for your blog which has kept me smiling, laughing, sometimes boo-hooing.. For very different reasons it’s been a tough year for us both, and I tell you what, there’s going to be a bloody great knees-up of a shindig when you come home. Mrs Fidge (that’s Fridge without the R, fudge with an i..bloody nightmare Richard)xxxxxxx
September 18th, 2006 at 9:12 pm
Ugh! How awful it’s been for you! I’m so sorry to hear about all that but really glad that you’ve turned the corner–many corners, actually. Congratulations on your legal victory and all the other victories, small and large, personal and professional.
Still and all, feel free to keep the blog coming, even when it’s not necessary for your daily mental survival! (It might be helping mine, you see.)
September 19th, 2006 at 12:43 am
Hi, I can’t remember if I’ve ever commented here before, but I have been reading your blog for a long time.
Just wanted to say that I think it’s great that you’ve taken the plunge and done this big and scary thing that you wanted to do. And you’ve kept at it. It’s not the easiest of things to jump off the edge of your comfort zone.
And don’t worry, I don’t think you’ve missed much in Cambridge – it’s been fairly uneventful of late…
September 19th, 2006 at 3:48 am
I don’t think I’ve been through anything as quite as traumatic as you have but as a fellow VSO volunteer I also wanted to say that I too have been through the wringer to a certain extent.
While I’ve never really come close to wanting to get out of here, I have fled to a beach on a couple of occasions just to get away from it. The pressures of work, the goldfish bowl of expat living etc.
I can remember, for a million reasons, completely breaking down in the quiet corner of a beach. It was a single incident that sparked it but it was the cumulation of may others.
I too am glad I blog. It’s helped me vent. I do talks for tour groups who visit us, and tell them all about the wonderful work we do. Afterwards it reminds me too of how amazing my life is. Blogging fulfills the same function.
It also helps to crystalise ideas and document your journey. I think working in a third world country is similar to travelling in it. Sometimes, when the trip is hellish you just have to remind yourself that a hellish journey makes for a great story afterwards.
Just finally wanted to say good on your for the sexual harrasment case. You should be very proud that you saw this through in a place where to do so is exceptional. Nobody should have to put up with that.
I guess I have just left this message to say that we all feel this way. An old VSO Vietnam colleague told me, when she was leaving, that during her time she had never been happier and never been sadder too. What you are doing there is exceptional. What you are feeling is normal.
I’ve come to think of it as living though. My apologies to anyone reading this but working 9-5, 2.4 kids, etc etc. It’s existing. You’ve got to dare to live, to experience the highs you have to take the lows. And if sometimes that means the lows are lower then maybe that’s a price that can be worth paying.
Just wanted to mention something about professional growth etc. I too have had my confidence dented to a certain extent. What I do is so different from what I did back home that I wonder if I could ever work in an UK office again. Perhaps not. And while my paperwork, office politics and bullshitting skills may have been dented…well now I can design posters myself (because there is no designer to do it), I can deal with printers even though they don’t speak the same language. I can work with colleagues who exist in a completly different culture. I can organise an event on a budget that is next to nothing etc etc etc Surely those skills count for something?
I’ve loved reading your blog and for my money its the best of any volunteer blog I’ve read. Thanks for writing it. And you will get through this.
September 19th, 2006 at 8:24 am
Jeez, how horrific. Good for you for bringing a case against the jerk.
With regards to work – you just cannot compare working somewhere like Namibia with working back home. You will be faced with what seem like ridiculous insurmountable tasks, but you do your best. One of the biggest battles is always trying to juggle what’s expected of you based on what Western donors would consider professional standards, and local culture which has the attitude ‘why do it today when you could put it off for a few weeks’ etc. Neither side is right or wrong but trying to straddle both camps is nigh on impossible, so you just do what you can.
And I wouldn’t give up hope on meeting someone either – I remember our pre-departure VSO talks frightening the life out of me with their AIDS statistics and being resigned to a life of celibacy in Nam’, but I met my (now) hubby three weeks after arriving! In fact around 16 volunteers in my group married people they met in Namibia. So you never know.
September 19th, 2006 at 8:57 am
My goodness, lots of long comments!
Mel, my love, don’t be daft – you’ve been great, and one of the true friends who’s been there for me. It means alot that you even read this! Can’t wait for the F(r)idge family knees up on my return XX
Heather – thanks! It has been awful, sometimes, but it’s been pretty fabulous too. Reading back over some of my posts reminds me how much I’ve got out of all of this. I’m very lucky really. As OMIH says, hellish times make for great stories! And don’t worry – I’m too addicted to blogging to stop.
Adrian, no you’ve never commented before – welcome! I haven’t heard much from my Cambridge based friends about happenings, so I gathered it’s all been quiet. I did miss the beer festival and strawberry fair though – and I do so love them.
OHIH – you’re so right. So many of my friends have gone through this. I was talking to a friend of mine who is having tough times for very different reasons, and the stages we went through were practically identical. I feel as if this experience has changed me, for better or worse I don’t know, but it’s definitely living, that’s for sure. And as for the skills – yes, I can now write a three-year organisational plan and budget from scratch, so that’s worth something! Thanks for all your support, and for the compliment.
Clare – I think my organisation’s a bit confused because I have a workaholic French boss, who expects big tasks to be done yesterday, while everything else toddles along at Namibian pace. It’s confusing sometimes, but you’re right – you can only try your best. Re the bloke thing, thanks for the reassurance! 16? That’s huge! I’m keeping my fingers crossed, but I’m sceptical!
September 19th, 2006 at 6:04 pm
Boy oh boy! I can imagine what an awful time you’ve had; yet you managed to hide it so well through your good-humoured posts. I guess blogging can be an escape in more than one way.
A beach house in the Caribbean should probably stay as a nice fantasy. The reality (more harassment, for example) is less attractive. I think you’ve been doing the best you can to survive & thrive in a strange place — going on short trips and seeing more than your office is one of the best strategies.
As OMIH says, you should also “positivize” yourself and your skills. It’s good for yourself and is a very powerful (& attractive) way to impress others and get some respect.
Also, as a Brit, I’ve learned that we shouldn’t apologize half the times we do.
*raises rum punch in salute*
September 19th, 2006 at 9:26 pm
Just wanted to add my well done for persevering with the harassment case.
And to warn you – if you want a beach house in the caribbean, you won’t be able to have jaffa cakes as well. Jaffa cakes or beach house… it’s a decision you will have to make!
September 19th, 2006 at 11:12 pm
“I know that it’s probably silly to invest so much in a something so small”. What you mean is, you’re worried other people might think that. Well, sod them. It’s helped you get through what sounds like a truly horrid time. You admit yourself you look forward to writing here, that it gives you pleasure to do so. And I’m not the first (and certainly won’t be the last) to tell you that you write wittily and engagingly and, when the occasion calls for it, movingly.
What you’ve just achieved – ridding yourself of your nemesis, and completing your mysteriously scary task – deserves to be celebrated. And through this site you get to celebrate it with others. Don’t knock your “so small” blog. Of course you need to maintain a sense of perspective (and you clearly have) – but you can be proud of what you’ve done here too.
September 20th, 2006 at 1:00 am
Thank you for letting us in to your world. I admire your strength going through with the harassment case firstly in a society that is less than friendly to women’s rights, and secondly in a country far away from friends an family. I suspect if it was me I would have packed up and run away long ago. My hat off to you Rachie – well done.
September 20th, 2006 at 9:20 am
Hi Ria, *raises margarita in return* – I find that putting on a cheerful front often makes you feel cheerful in the end. Also, re the apologising – you’re exactly right. I tried to laugh the whole harassment thing off while it was happening, thinking that I was being overly sensitive. Then I wrote it all down, and realised how genuinely appalling the whole thing actually had been.
KG – no, I want both. I demand to have jaffa cakes delivered to my beach house by sea plane.
Waterhot – thank you. I am celebrating every day!
Hobbes – thank you also! It’s so nice to get such supportive comments from people – you’re all just lovely.
September 20th, 2006 at 5:04 pm
Hey Rach,
Just wanted to add my pearls of wisdom to your post. First of all I just wanted to say I miss going for ‘one drink’ after work with you and ending up trying to cycle over tower bridge several drinks later. Also to say that I envy you and your style of writing as you just crack me up and put things more eloquantely (see can’t even spell) than I ever could. As you know I have been frantically job hunting for ages and to cut a long story short, I really have everything I need in this job but it is me that is stopping myself from getting where I want to be. This stems from lack of confidence and worry about making a mistake. But, as my boss pointed out today you can’t learn and grow if you don’t put yourself out there and risk making mistakes. Well that is enough waffle from me apart from saying I am glad you went through the harrassment case and that I miss having a good ole chin wag with you. Like Mel says we will have a good old knees up when you get home.
lol
Lou x
September 26th, 2006 at 9:25 pm
Wow. That really does sound like one shitty colleague. But great thta you had the second SH case in Namibia, because with that kind of thing when there’s only been one case it’s easy to forget about it, think of it as a special case, think it won’t apply to your particular circumstances. It’s only as more cases go through the system that it all begins to seem normal, and something that really is there for everyone.
And I’m sure you’re doing great work with VSO. Maybe not as great as you’d dreamed of, but better than most people ever get to do.
September 29th, 2006 at 11:25 am
I’ve just read this post about the sexual harassment case. Enormous kudos to you for challenging him and winning – it must have been incredibly difficult.
Also massive respect for sticking it out in Namibia despite it being so difficult. But there’s another kind of bravery in admitting defeat and coming home, so that would earn my respect too. As far as your work goes, I bet you’re doign better than you think you are. It’s also worth remembering that future employers will not be interested in the finer points of your job. It will just look good that you went out there for a year and did what you are doing. Well done. And here’s a {{{HUG}}}. xxx
May 1st, 2007 at 11:38 pm
Great site. So many useful info.
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May 26th, 2007 at 6:23 pm
You are one courageous woman! First the experience and opening your mouth about it and now also blogging on it. I love your openness and transparency. This is so needed in the world today. thanks for the guts it took to do this. Blogrolled you too.