I look back at my decision to come here, to join the Peace
Corps, and I can honestly say that I had no idea what I was getting myself
into. We joke that we all joined to
“save the children” or “change the way the school system runs” or “bring
peace/water/education to some struggling community”, but is it really a joke? I
didn’t come into this thinking I would read 200 books in two years but I
essentially have. I didn’t think I’d be teaching six hours a week and spending
the vast majority of my time avoiding the ridiculously intense African sun. But
I also didn’t expect to meet so many people that would so quickly become my
family. Nor did I predict the relationships and bonds I would form with fellow
PCVs that I may only see every couple of months or even once a year. I didn’t
see myself bonding with my counterpart and his family like I have or having his
daughter trust me almost as much as she trusts her parents. I couldn’t have
told you that I would miss the smell of clothes fresh from the dryer more than
I’d miss running water or my beloved fountain diet cokes. Or that I, someone who
generally hates talking on the phone, would choose sketchy cell service over
electricity any day of the week.
So what was I thinking when I started the application
process? Honestly? I was thinking that I was about to finish graduate school
and after having spent the majority of my life in class, writing papers and studying
for exams I had no idea what to do next.
Sure, I could go get a job, but doing what? I could continue on with
more school, but study what? And then I saw the flyer on the door of Alfred
Hall as I went inside to prep the lab for my next class. If I didn’t know what
to do maybe someone else could tell me. What little I knew about the Peace
Corps included the fact that you couldn’t just walk in and say “I want to go to
Madagascar to study the lemurs and teach local children why they should care
about the environment”. Someone would look at my work and education background,
talk to me about my interests and goals and send me somewhere to do something I
was reasonably qualified for. Seemed like just the push I needed to get me
moving – somewhere, anywhere.
And so I ended up in Mozambique teaching biology to eighth
and tenth graders in a villa about the size of the Costco down the road from my
mom’s house. I live in a cement house that would fit inside your average
American living room where I cook on a charcoal “grill” and get light from a solar
powered bulb. My water comes from a pump up behind the school and I bathe
with a bucket behind the house. My housemate is someone I didn’t even know
existed before September 28th, 2010 but she now knows more about me
than anyone else. My closest friends here, the people I would most likely
confide in, are 12-15 hours away from me with less than reliable
transportation. I went a year without seeing two of them.
But you know what I’ve learned? I can adapt to almost
anything. I can learn a new language in nine weeks and starting teaching in it
a month later. I can make a meal out of almost any combination of food items
but still can’t seem to get a pot of rice to turn out right. I will gladly walk
6km to town just for a bottle of cold water but will usually choose a soda once
I get there. Traveling eight hours each way for a weekend away is nothing if it
means time at the beach with friends. There is not much more exciting that
arriving in the city after six hours in the back of a truck to find a package
from home waiting for you in an air conditioned office. Even better if it
contains Nutella, shells and cheese, caramel Cadbury eggs or pictures of your
best friend’s new baby. I’ve learned that I can get by with far less than I
thought possible and that a bike wheel and stick can keep a kid occupied just
as long as a fancy video game. I know that I am most definitely not the same
person that left Colorado 20 months ago, or even 12 months ago, but that those
changes might not be obviously seen. I know that I have the most supportive
family and friends and I’m reminded at least once a week when I open a letter
that people out there are thinking of me, praying for me and cheering me on.
So why did I come here? Honestly? Because I didn’t know what
else to do to learn about myself. And I am again approaching that time when I
will need to decide what I’ll do next, but now I know that it’s okay not to
know. That it’s okay to take a risk and do something that may not turn out the
way you think it will but that you will get something out of the experience
anyway. Did I have to come half way around the world to learn these things?
Probably not but it’s been an amazing journey and an incredible way to learn
what I am capable of. And when it comes down to it I still don’t know anything
for aure – why I’m here, where I’ll go next, what I want to do with my life
- but I do know that I’m the person you
want with you when you get stranded in the woods!
*I couldn't find a song that truely followed my train of thought while writing this so I just let it be. any suggestions?
