I've been warned
about this.
I knew it was coming, but I guess I just never thought it would be as bad as they say it is.
I guess I figured I would pull out of this feeling differently - - because, I just wanted it to be that way.
I saw a glimpse of
all of this when I was home in the states.
People wanted to
come visit me, they wanted to say hello. They wanted to see their shiny, fancy
friend back from the Peace Corps.
"How's
Africa?"
"I don't know
how you do it. Isn't it so sad?""Do people die all the time?"
"Are you living in a hut? … what? They have electricity?"
Let's start off with
the fact that Africa is a CONTINENT. How's Africa? I don't know. But I could
tell you about Botswana. And yes it's sad, but it's filled with so many success
stories. And…. Oh. Ok. Right.
End of attention
span.
People think that
they want to hear about what I'm doing. Of course they ask questions, but most
of them are so superficial there's no way it paints a clear picture of my
service. And usually, after a few cut & dry questions, the conversation
fizzles out.
What I do isn't
always pretty. It's emotionally
exhausting, physically challenging, and mentally demanding. The decision to be
here is one that I make every day. I've
mentioned that I love it here and that's no lie. I love that I have the
opportunity to try to make a difference. I love that I'm welcomed into a
culture that was foreign to me just last year. I love the life-long
relationships I've built with some very special people here.
But my blog is only
a small taste, a small glimpse of what's going on with me. Unless you've taken
the time to email me, pick up the phone, or write a letter, you most likely
don't know me anymore. You know the old me that is a part of who I am today, but
you aren't seeing what I see when I look in the mirror these days.
I've changed. A lot.
My perspectives, my values, my dreams, my fears… they've changed. In 19 months,
I've changed for the better. I've become broken. I've been put back together.
I've felt alone. I've rejoiced in unity.
So why am I saying
this all now?
I'm starting to
think seriously about my future after my Peace Corps service ends, which means
updating resumes. It means job searches.
It means putting a lot of puzzle pieces together.
It means that not
only did I have to figure out how to put together sound bites of my service for
friends and family at home, now I have to turn two years into two lines on a
resume.
How can I describe
all the children I play with at the OVC (Orphans & Vulnerable Children)
Center? How can I explain the stories of heartache the youth experience in
child-headed households? How can I write about the patients we have lost at the
clinic? How can I communicate my own personal growth?
It's frustrating.
And heartbreaking.
When I go home, this
is all going to be the past. Memories. No one else will fully understand.
So as I'm trying to
turn my service into a few keywords, I will also be writing furiously in my
journal, compiling video clips into a montage, and documenting all my favorite
photos. I will be trying to find ways to keep my service alive so that when I return
to the hustle and bustle in America, I won't forget.
This time is too
precious to me to forget. And please, when I'm with you, ASK. Ask me - -
anything. Each of you have moved on with your lives and things have changed.
Believe me, I have a LOT of catching up to do with a LOT of people when I come
back. But I'm just one person for you.
Let's share our
experiences together to keep them alive.
Love & Light,
TMV