Fitting In

Fitting In

As with any new venture one has to accept that it takes time before one fits in.  As so in Haiti.  Typical stumbling blocks include forgetting new names.  I can justify it, though.  The sixty or so daily people on base only have to remember one new name … and then only if I run across them.  I, on the other hand, have not only to remember those same sixty, but also I have to try and remember whether or not I can even pronounce them as they may be in French, Creole, English, Ugandan, Canadian, or any other multiple nationality that may be floating around.  So I still use the old idiom, ‘hey you’, ‘hey’ or simply ‘grunt’ and smile.  That last one works the best; the grunt and smile technique was duly acquired in Mexico and perfected while in Argentina.  I’ve found through much trial and error that a cheerful grunt followed by a stupefying smile usually results in a similar response.  A follow up laugh will also help as they are generally quite contagious when neither person remembers each others’ name but won’t admit it; of course, follow this in a language that neither understands and it quickly diffuses a potentially tense situation into one of mutual jocularity.

Probably the most difficult part of waiting to fit in is being patient to garner the knowledge of how things work.  The new guy doesn’t really know anything except, perhaps, how to grunt and smile.  This then is followed by tagging along like a little puppy trying to look like you know more, but really don’t.  So most of the day is watching, listening, and trying to nod at every little comment someone makes while really having no clue what’s happening.  I rest only in the concept of osmosis, that being, if I stand in the way long enough, I’ll eventually learn something important to remember.

Learning to do the job when one doesn’t’ know how can also lead to delayed fitting in syndrome.  I raise an eyebrow when I see the massive bulldozer rumble by.  I can only relate driving it to my humble experience with my little landscaping bulldozer that was, maybe, a twelfth the size.  I keep putting off climbing up on the thing because I’m afraid I’ll make a fool of myself trying to figure out the levers and maybe back over a truck or something.  But the time will eventually come when I have to learn.  And once I do it will help in the fitting in process.

Part of fitting in is giving the impression that you can be trusted.  I don’t think it is so much being trusted with a 1/2 million dollar dozer as much as it is being trusted with people’s hearts.  Speaking kindly, trying to help out with sincerity, or helping to find shared humor in life is a little more difficult.  Emotions are so finicky and fragile.  A word poorly put can give a bad impression and close off someone’s friendship.  I’m finding that a laugh shared, a helping hand offered, and a perky thumbs up with a smile goes a long way to beginning this level of trust in others.  It seems to work regardless of the color of the skin  and seems to open the door for more. 

Fitting in takes time, therein comes the patience.  I want badly to be a part, to be comfortable in what is expected of me, to satisfy my employer and to become a friend.  It doesn’t happen overnight or in a week’s time … but it does seem to start well with a grunt and a smile.