As of today (December 5th), I have been living in
Colombia for 100 days. I’ve completed a grueling training, moved into my
permanent site, and observed a few classes at my new school. I am very proud to
have made it here—it has not been that easy. Ever since the first few days of
moving in I’ve been on an emotional rollercoaster. I’ve decided to share some
of those feelings on this blog for several reasons. I am not an emotional
person by far so making the decision to publicize my feelings has been a
difficult one. However, I hope to use it as an accurate representation of where
I am in my service right now. Maybe if current PCVs/PCTs from other countries
are reading this, they will be able to relate to me. Maybe people considering
joining the Peace Corps will read this and understand how difficult service can
be. Either way I hope that in the future I can read this blog knowing that I
have grown from the place I’m in now.
Some days I wake up
in the morning and want nothing more than to hop on the next plane to Bradley
Airport. From my site I can hear planes overhead flying out of the Cartagena
airport, and I wish it were me on board. I cherish going to sleep every night
where I get to dream about my family and friends, people who I probably won’t
see for another two years. Waking up from those dreams are the worst. For the
first few moments post sleep I get to live the false reality of the dream. But then
I quickly realize that I am nowhere near my friends and family, and won’t be
for a while.
In Colombia I find myself crying at the most random times.
Anyone who knows me knows how big of a deal that is. The first time it happened
I was on my site visit to Cartagena, and I was spending the night at my
counterpart’s house. I was getting ready for the night and putting my hair in Bantu
knots because it had finally grown out enough since my last haircut. I realized
that the last time my hair was long enough to do Bantu knots was during my last
semester of college. That’s when the tears started to roll. At Spelman every
night I would put my hair in Bantu knots in the company of my friends. It was
nothing major really, just a time when we all sat and talked together about an
array of things. I cried that night because I knew those memories could never
be re-created. Not only was I far away in Colombia, but I had also just
graduated, so I would never find myself in that situation again. I don’t know
why but that realization shook me. Most of the other times I’ve cried have
happened while listening to music. A
song will come up on my shuffle that will trigger some memory that brings me to
tears. As the Christmas season has been approaching, the tears tend to happen
more when listening to Parang (Trinidadian Christmas music). This will be my
first Christmas away from family, and that realization has been nothing short
of difficult.
Sometimes I really do question why I am here. I wonder if I
made the right decision to dedicate two years of my life to the Peace Corps. I
don’t think I really considered how long two years is during my application
process. Everyone swears that the time will fly by but I can’t help to think
that my life is going by in slow-mo. It feels like years have gone by since
staging in Miami; to think that that was only 3 months ago is mind boggling. I
find myself playing the time game. Like when you’re in a 90 minute class and
you want nothing more than to leave. You’ll go “ok 90 minutes is only 3 sets of
30, or 6 sets of 15 and 15 minutes have already passed so I only have to sit
through 5 more sets of 15!” I try to break up my service into livable chunks.
For example, the 200 days (about 6 months) in Colombia mark will happen right
around my birthday. The 10 month mark will happen in the “summer” when I hope I
can get some visitors. In august c2-7 will arrive, and in December I’ll be home
for Christmas. Playing that game has really helped me get through some rough
times.
I don’t want this post to sound depressing. I am grateful for
many things about Colombia. I have an amazing host family in my new site. They
are warm, friendly, and do everything possible to make me feel welcome.
Spending time with them really lifts my spirits. Getting to know C2-5
volunteers has also helped me put my life in perspective. They’ve all survived
one year in Colombia, and can probably all relate to how I’m feeling now. My
new friends in C2-6 are always there for me, and when we’re all together
everything feels right. I am also thankful for the opportunity to even be here.
I know that I’m going through a rough time right now, but I am still glad to be
here. There are people who never get to fulfill their dreams of being in the
Peace Corps, and I try to never forget that.
During training we
all got a sheet that graphed out the stages that PCVs go through during their
service. The graph consists of a straight horizontal line with another line on top
of it that dips above and below the horizontal line at certain points. The curves
represent how the PCV is projected to feel, with dips below being rough patches
and, rises being good moments. It gives me peace of mind to know that the graph
projects me to be in a dip from now (month 3) to about month 6 (March). It
somehow gives my feelings validation, knowing that I’m not crazy for feeling
how I’m feeling right now. I just hope that by month 6 I have risen from this
low point and have a more positive outlook.
Writing this blog, and keeping a journal has been very therapeutic
for me. I never knew that I would become a “feelings person” (lol), but I have
welcomed the changes I am already seeing in myself.
PS Mom if you read this don’t freak out! I will be fine.
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