The original title I'd planned for this post went more along the lines of "Is this real life?" Which I suppose is still a relevant title, but not in the wondrous sense I first intended. The couple weeks between this post and the last one have gone by in quite a blur of ups and downs, always full of activity. We've had the two most important visits of the season, and of course they overlapped; first came the group of potential donors who are part of a philanthropic investment group (all the returns they make on investments have to be donated to a nonprofit organization), and then came the government officials looking at each of Kris and Doug's properties in Chile to decide which of them, if any, they'd be willing to accept as a donation to the government in return for creating national parks with the gifted and surrounding land.
As far as I could tell, both visits went well, though I mostly interacted with the group of potential donors. There were seven of them, accompanied by Forrest Berkley (a current donor to the project and the one who made the pitch to our visitors that convinced them to come here), and they were all very pleasant people, though somewhat high maintenance. To be fair, we started out catering to everything they might want, so they came to expect that kind of service and therefore weren't afraid to ask for something if they wanted it; we fed the beast, so to speak. Their days were long, and so were ours, starting with early breakfasts and late dinners after they returned from their daily excursions. There were often presentations after dinner, which, despite being interesting, were more of a pain than anything for me, because I'd have to wait to clean up the living room and set the tables for breakfast until after everyone cleared out after the presentation. It became a race against the generator, which turns off around midnight, and against my eyelids, which got progressively heavier throughout the night. I got sleep deprived enough to work up a nice fever one evening and had to go home to sleep instead of help serve dinner for the guests. You could say it was a wake-up call.
On top of the physical strain, I was also getting worn down by feeling like an unappreciated part of the team. I was always the only one washing and drying glasses after dinner, alone in the big silent living room, while Eli, Collin, and Nadine would be hanging out in the kitchen, blasting music and helping each other clean up. It was easy to foster a feeling of resentment that they were all having fun without me, and seldom offering to help me at the end of the night. To be fair, I know they had a lot more cleaning than I did, and Collin was good about offering to help at other times, and it's also just the nature of the beast. I could rationalize all that in my head and tell myself not to feel bad about the situation, but the fact of the matter was that it made me feel excluded and that affected my enthusiasm for my work here. I also felt discouraged by the hierarchy I encountered here, watching other interns be chosen for jobs that I could've done because they'd been here for longer. Again, I can rationalize it and say "Yes, this is real life" but that doesn't make it easier to stomach. I know I can be a reliable employee, and I guess I just want everyone around to me to realize that already (a high expectation, sure, because I've only been here three weeks).
Luckily, the night I went home sick raised some questions in the minds of the higher-ups as to why I really had to leave (was I sick or unhappy or something else?). I'm not sure why people were unsure of my reason for going home to sleep it off, as I thought I'd communicated that to some people on the assumption that they'd fill everyone else in, but it meant that the next day I got questions about how I was feeling about my work here. Which gave me the arena to lay bare my discontentments about feeling like an unappreciated part of the team, and while some tried to refute my ideas the way I did in the above paragraphs, it seems like the general message hit home, and things have gotten better. It's amazing how far a simple "thank you" can go...
On that note, I'll take the opportunity to extend a thank you to all of you who have been reading my blog. I realize I haven't been the most consistent with it since getting to Patagonia, but I appreciate the fact that you all will take some time out of your day to read about what I'm up to.
I'll sign off with a bright; even though I've had my share of frustrations to relate in this post, I really have to take it all in perspective: I look out the window and am reminded of the fact that I'm in PATAGONIA, working for a very worthwhile organization, and that I'll regret no part of this experience, even the ups and downs. I mean, my job two days ago was to help set up for an asado at a picturesque old stone house, the site of the next major campground and trailhead within the park. The fresh air and trees and nearby river were just a couple of the perks of the day. Last night I slept outside by a lake in the complete and utter darkness and silence, staring up at the Milky Way as I drifted into sleep. We have a communal guitar and Josh, the greenhouse intern, brought his fiddle, so there's seldom a day that we don't play a little bit of music, too. What am I complaining about? I've learned a big lesson, not for the first or the last time, about letting go; not letting speed bumps become mountains; appreciating the opportunities I have. I'll continue to work hard, as I always do, to content myself with knowing that I am making a difference, even if it's not acknowledged every day, and to play as hard as I work. Shouldn't be too hard to do here.
