Phlegmatic Appreciation

One of the things that Peace Corps (as an organization and as an overall experience) has instilled in us is taking an appreciative approach to things that might normally be perceived as problems. My friend and fellow Gostivar PCV Shaun recently applied the appreciative approach to a common problem that we encounter, and I thought it illustrated our collective experience rather well.

Everyday when Shaun, Beth and I leave our respective apartments, we face challenges on the streets of Gostivar. It could be a car jumping onto the sidewalk, a cohort of mischievous adolescent boys plotting to attack us, or a pile of rotting cabbage on the corner. But by far, the most stomach-churning, gag-inducing behavior that we witness multiple times a day is the phenomenon of hawking loogies. “Hawking a loogie” is not merely spitting, but a loud, reverberating loosening of throat and sinus mucus followed by airborne projection of said mucus. (Ask Scott for a demonstration if you need a real-life example.) Such hawking is common here and seems to be a social event shared by men and women, boys and girls, Orthodox Christians and Muslims, dogs and cats. It’s the one thing everyone can agree on.

Usually the only assault that we have to endure as a result of such hawking is auditory, but on occasion, the loogies make contact. Last winter, I had the pleasure of receiving a loogie on the arm of my jacket. The perpetrator did not hawk on me on purpose; rather, he was hawking as he was turning and was in mid-expulsion when he saw me in the path of the loogie. His apology: “Uhh” (which, FYI, does NOT translate as “sorry” in any of the languages spoken here).

Anyway, Shaun devised a strategy for dealing with the revulsion that accompanies being a witness to loogie-hawking. After a few days of observation, Shaun realized that on his daily trek from his apartment to his office, he usually hears from two to five loogie-hawkings. Based on that figure, he decided that he would begin counting all the loogie-hawkings that he hears every day, and if the daily total meets or exceeds seven loogie-hawkings, he buys himself a prize, a reward for enduring such disgusting behavior.

Beth and I have been thinking about taking such an approach as well. We thought that we could have competitions to see who could witness the most loogie-hawkings in a day. Or we could get one of those fundraising thermometers and keep a running total of all the loogie-hawkings, and when we “reach our goal,” we get some BIG prize, like going skiing together or something.

The Moral of the Story: It’s easy to drive yourself completely insane by focusing on things that are gross/smelly/ugly/uncomfortable/different and how much those things irritate you. When the thing that is making you crazy is not something you can realistically change, you need to change how you deal with it. How can you make a situation that makes you want to hit someone make you laugh instead? Another coping strategy for this particular irritant is joining in. Beth and I have been known to echo hawking noises. We also take particular pleasure in spitting when we go running. (I’m more of demure spitter, whereas Beth sounds like she’s trying to expel her lungs out of her mouth.)

Nitpicking Question: Is it “hawking”? Or “hocking”? And did I spell “loogie” correctly? Is it “Lougie” or something instead? (Like the namesake is guy named Lou?) Anyone with further information, please post a comment.