Final Peaces

It’s more than hard to believe that my time as Peace Corps Volunteer has come to an end. I have spent so much time in the last few weeks reflecting on this journey and all that I have gained and learned. It’s been a wild ride. A wild ride that I will be forever grateful for.

I don’t remember the first time I said it. I don’t remember if it was even my original idea, but at some point as an undergraduate I told the first person, “Oh, maybe I’ll join the Peace Corps,” as a response to their “What are you going to do with a degree in international studies?” It sounded like a really good response, and it stuck as an option I would rattle off when asked. The truth was that I had no idea what I wanted to do with my life after college. (I have a better idea now, but I’m still trying to nail that down). At some point I decided I should look up this Peace Corps thing. I had a very basic knowledge of the Peace Corps and thought it would be a good idea to research the organization if I was going to keep verbally and potentially committing myself to it. I looked it up. A two-year commitment? Two years in another country? In a developing country? This needed some serious thought and prayer.

Eventually I just knew it was the right thing to do. I applied. I knew two things when I applied: 1. I was going to be sent somewhere with giant spiders and 2. I was going to Africa. I could feel it in my bones. Also, in my stomach when the thought of a tarantula made me vomit a little. The day I finished the application, I told my parents that not only had I applied, but also that I told the Peace Corps I would go anywhere the organization would send me. They were not shocked, but they still needed to be parents and have their say. And they did. They weren’t completely on board, but I was convinced and knew in my heart that this was right. I asked them to pray about it too.

The next five months were full of completing medical clearance and waiting. And waiting. And frantically checking online to see if any updates had been made to my status. And waiting.

In January 2011, my invitation came. I was at one of the part-time jobs I had landed since moving back in with my parents. My mom brought the package to me at work and we opened it together. “The Peace Corps invites you to serve as a water and hygiene sanitation Volunteer in Suriname.” Suriname. Admittedly, I wasn’t sure where Suriname was located. It didn’t matter. I was going to be a Peace Corps Volunteer! I accepted the invitation. I was thrilled. And people were thrilled for me. More than ever I knew this was the right decision. I spent the next four months spending time with people I love and obsessing over what to pack into two bags for two years. Also, I spent a lot of time preparing to see giant spiders. As it turned out, I was not going to Africa, but the spider thing, of course that one would be true.

For those interested, this is where I stand with the spiders after two years in the jungle: If you knew me well before Peace Corps, or were ever lucky enough to witness me encounter a spider, you know it wasn’t pretty. Well, I’m better now. Like, so much better. I’m basically cured. When I see a spider now I don’t have to cry or run away or roll around to get the invisible spiders off of me. It’s a real time saver. Okay, honestly, I still wish I hadn’t seen the spider to begin with because they are still so damn nasty and unnecessarily big, but you get it.

As my departure date grew closer and closer, I was more and more excited, but I also became more and more nervous. The night before I left, and after filling out my life insurance form with my mom, I was terrified. I didn’t talk about it, but I was scared. Regardless, I knew without a doubt that this was the right thing to do. I hadn’t chosen this for myself; this was the plan that was chosen for me, the one I had prayed for. I had to go. And yeah, maybe I was wrong about the whole Africa thing, but this, this I knew. I knew without a single doubt, scared or not, this was right.

If you’ve been keeping up with this blog, then you pretty much know what’s been going on since then.

And now it’s ending. Today I rang a bell to close out my service. In less than 24 hours I will be en route to Mississippi. I will be a Returned Peace Corps Volunteer. There are only about 200,000 people that understand how good that will feel and what an honor it will be. Some days, even here at the end, I still cannot believe I get to be a part of this group and the legacy of Peace Corps. I’ll say it: It’s a big deal. And I hope through this blog, I have been able to open eyes to what Volunteers are giving two years of their lives to be a part of. It is no small thing, and I am beyond thankful that my eyes have been opened to that truth.

It’s often hard closing a chapter and moving on to the next in life. However, in my experience, that means it was a helluva chapter and totally worth writing in the book of your life. This chapter is no different. Even though there were days I wished for it to wrap up a little quicker, I’m sad. I had to say goodbye to people I may never see again. My first place was in the jungle, and I had to walk out of that house for the last time. I had to hug and kiss those sweet kiddos for the last time. I had to get on that boat knowing I wouldn’t be spending a week in Paramaribo and going back to Malobi. I left my home of two years knowing I may never return to see it again. It was always going to be sad. I hoped and prayed for it to be sad. The past two years would have been kind of a bust if it weren’t sad.

I know I’ve said this before, but even on the hardest, loneliest, and most frustrating of hard, lonely, and frustrating days, I knew this was exactly where I was suppose to be for these two years. I never ever doubted that. I will forever be thankful for the peace that came with knowing I was in the right place. For all I know, it was the only thing keeping me here on those hard, lonely, frustrating days. And I truly cannot imagine my life at this point had I not stayed despite all the things that were tough. 

I will continue to write on this blog about my life after Peace Corps and the lasting effects of my service, so stay tuned. Don't expect anything soon. I've got an iPhone to buy. And then I have to learn to use it. Thanks so much for keeping up with my life and supporting me throughout this journey. "Lives of service depend on lives of support."-Tracy Kidder. 

And now, because everything about this decision was right from the beginning, when people ask about my time in the Peace Corps, I’ll get to tell them all about the time I lived in South America, in a country called Suriname. However, if you’ve been following this blog, seen any of my pictures from the past two years, or been lucky enough to hear the second language I speak, you understand, I’ll tell them I lived in South America, but I'll also have to tell them that I spent the majority of my Peace Corps service in Africa. After all that, it was Africa.  

Lasts

I moved out of my site a few days ago. It still does not seem real that I won't be going back after a week in the city. It's strange to say the least.

June 18 was a big ole day of lasts. I woke up and drank my last cup of instant coffee, for the last time, in my jungle house. I gave away the last of my things and packed for the city for the last time. I cooked my last box of macaroni and cheese, for the last time, on my jungle stove. I took my last bucket bath after catching water for the last time.

That night I sat with Beta, trying to breathe in my last moments in Malobi. Women were sitting at her house, braiding hair and gossiping. They would look over at me periodically and talk about my departure the next morning. I held back the tears. I kept trying to take mental snapshots of the scene. Eventually the women left, and it was just Beta and me sitting at her house the way we had almost every single day that I was at site. I took another mental snapshot. I did not hold back the tears that came after that one. She hugged me and told me to stop crying. I tried. She took my hand and told me that when I cry, she feels it. She understands. She didn't cry, but the way her face looked, I knew we were feeling the same way. You see, Beta has been my best friend since my first day in Malobi. We were destined to have a special relationship. I didn't know it when I moved to site, but Beta would be the one to teach me so much about Saamaka culture. Beta didn't know it when I moved to site, but I would be the one to sit with her dying child in the last days of her life. That's not a small thing for either of us. We're bonded for life. And not because we helped each other when things were hard, but because we love each other enough to help each other. I will be forever grateful for her friendship.

As we sat at her house the night before I left, we talked and we didn't. We hugged a lot and I cried a little. It was quiet for about ten minutes, and we had both been looking at each other periodically. We both knew that eventually I was going to have to leave. And so I did. I looked at her and said, "Beta, mi o hopo," for the last time. I left her house for the last time. I walked to my house and locked the door from the inside for the last time. I fell asleep to the sound of the rowdy bats that live in my ceiling for the last time.

The next morning, the twins woke me up about 6:30. I opened my door to find them all ready for school, looking precious as always and melting my heart. I hugged them for the last time.

A few hours later, I hugged Beta for the last time. She walked me to the river, and I climbed into a dugout canoe for the last time. I cried as I rode away from my jungle home for the last time.

Some folks said that leaving their sites was hard. I won't say that. I have had really hard days in Malobi. The day I left wasn't one of them. Believe me, I was super sad. But also believe that I stepped into that boat all by myself. No one had to push me or carry me, kicking and screaming. No, it wasn't hard. I've had two years to prepare for the end. It was always going to be sad, and I'm thankful for that. The last two years would be a waste if I had not formed relationships that mean so much to me.

I am sure I will be sad again at some point, but right now I'm excited and relieved. I am so thankful that this opportunity was given to me, and I am so proud that I took it.

In one week I will fly back to America. I hope my family and friends are as ready as I am. No, let's be honest, they are. I know that.