I’m a good deal taller than most Peruvians. My skin resembles that of someone with similar feelings towards the sun as Nosferatu. My beard, while not Brian Liberatore’s, would make Quetzalcoatl proud. I speak with a heavy accent, different than even the other Americans. It’s safe to say that I stand out in Peru. Every time I leave the house, I’m met with stares. Anonymity is impossible.
In the states, the opposite holds true. I may be taller than average, definitely a pretty face to look at, but otherwise I’m just a normal guy. So normal, in fact, that over the course of the last six months or so, three of my close friends have told me stories of seeing my doppelgangers. Not someone that resembled me, but dead on doubles. In each case my friends were shocked at the degree of similarity, in one case chasing the person down the street yelling my name before realizing it wasn’t in fact, me.
Two worlds with strikingly different realities. In one, my day-to-day life consists of dealing with stares from both children and adults, salutations followed by grins and laughs, endless questions about who I am and where I come from. In the other exists a struggle to stand out, to be recognized, to differentiate myself from the scores of guys just like me.
I find that I deal with each world much differently. In the world of standing out, or above rather, I find that my personality is reserved, laid back. I don’t feel the need to talk as much, to give my opinion, to make my presence known because it automatically is. Everywhere I go I’m noticed. My actions, my presence reverberates far beyond what I can see. Because of this I am always aware, but also quiet. I don’t feel as if I can’t speak or that I shouldn’t, just that I don’t need to. I can express myself in other ways, and I know these will be noticed.
In the states and for those that know me best, mainly the group reading this, I hardly stop speaking. I know it must be a stretch to believe I can be quiet and reserved. In the states I express and differentiate myself through what I say. I love to make people laugh and I love to read the expressions on people’s faces. I love to debate, to argue, just about anything. What I have to say is how I express myself, the differences between me and all the other average guys around. I’m aware, but more so to the cues in conversations and on people’s faces.
When I first got to Peru, I assumed this change in demeanor was less to do with a change in me and more to do with a lack of ability to express myself. But over the course of my time here I’ve picked up the language enough to feel comfortable talking. I still get awkward stares, but overall I get my point across. So then why am I still so reserved? Is it possible that both sides, both demeanors, are equally me, and the change has been the environment I’m reacting to? Or is it impossible to equally be myself in both environments, and instead one side is displacing the other?
I knew there would be inevitable changes I would go through during my service. I talked to friends about the changes I hoped for and the changes I feared. Overall I’ve always liked myself, there were a lot of things I needed to work on, but the structure was sound and I didn’t want that to change. But now I find myself asking, has the structure already changed?
There’s no way for me to know this now. I still have 18 months here, the majority of my service before me and quite possibly the majority of my change before me. I can wonder and speculate on which aspects are my reactions to what’s before me and which are changes in my personality, but until my time here is done I won’t really know. This is both a source of frustration and optimism. I know I won’t be the same person that I was when this began, but how and to the extent that I will be different is something that occupies my thoughts often. I worry about a fundamental shift, discovering something that I didn’t know was there, seeing something that I can never un-see. More so though, I hope to learn something that I couldn’t have otherwise, to see a side of myself that’s different - yet equally me.
