Wednesday 8th February- Day 9 #2

Well, Emma fell in a little heap this evening, and I pretty much fell right down after. It’s so hard. Everyone here has been so kind and lovely, but it’s stressful to be in someone else’s house. I can understand half, or maybe a little bit more, of what people say and Emma pretty much can’t understand anything.

I don’t know. We stayed upstairs for a while this afternoon, but there was only intermittent power because of a tree down on the lines, so it felt like it was a hundred degrees and incredibly muggy. Then other people got home and I had to be (or at least look) social. And I had to speak Indonesian.

I mean, I can’t stress enough how nice these people are. They’ve given us snacks and drinks and urged us to just relax, and then they took us out to dinner. But I can’t relax. I have to spend every single second concentrating so that I have any hope of understanding what’s going on and that’s exhausting. I also constantly feel like I’m doing something wrong, and I’m self-conscious about my clothes and my messy hair and general grubbiness.

Everything got too much for Emma this evening too. Too much newness, too much strangeness, too much feeling uncomfortable, and then on the way to the restaurant they were asking if Emma would speak in front of a class – I mean, this is Emma, who sometimes doesn’t even want to speak in front of her family, let alone an entire class of Indonesian children. So she was slightly quivery right from the start, and then we sat down and she had to pick something off the menu and that was it. She sobbed on my shoulder and so of course I started crying and dripping tears into her hair. Great for a first night impression.

I just feel completely stuck. To leave would be the height of rudeness and I would feel so shitty about it. But to stay just seems so freaking hard. I don’t know how I can go seven days feeling like this, and I don’t know what to do about it. Tough it out and hope it gets better, or just give up and be a horrible person and leave. I don’t really know what Emma wants either – she is better and braver than me, but she also keeps giving me this look. So I don’t know.

Really, right now I’m ugly crying and I want to go home. I hate being away from Troy. I miss my boys. I hate being a failure. I hate that I still have a whole week. I hate myself for ruining this chance.

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