I think this is boring information, but people keep asking questions about this, so maybe you all want to know. If you don’t care, please skip this blog. I don’t’ want to bore you.
I will be leaving California Feb 8th for Miami where I will have what they call “staging” Feb 9. Staging is basically a brief orientation/ turn-in-all-the-required-papers day. My flight leaves from Miami for Paraguay the evening of the 9th and I will arrive in Paraguay Feb 10. From there, I will go to Guarambaré (an hour away from the capital) where I will meet my host family for the next couple months and begin 11 weeks of intense language, job, and culture training. After those 11 weeks I will be sworn in as an official Peace Corps Volunteer (crazy I know, it’s not official until the end of April, and I even have to pass tests to be sworn in). Finally, in May I will be placed in my site and move in with another host family living in that community and I will get to start my work as a Peace Corps Volunteer!
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
Monday, January 25, 2010
lessons from a 5th grade classroom
My friend Mary is a 5th grade teacher at a private school and she recently asked me to come talk to her kids about the Peace Corps. She likes to do things like make her kids write letters to soldiers in Iraq and tries to give them an idea of a world outside of the small, self-entitled one that they are used to. When she first asked me, I initially thought, “I could do that! I have an abundance of wisdom and knowledge that I am happy to pass on to young and impressionable minds. I could be that cool friend of their teacher traveling to some exotic land and 20 years later they would look back at that day, remembering me fondly.” The day before I went into her class, I started thinking about it, realizing I was totally nervous to talk to 11 year olds. What was I going to say? What if they didn’t care? And worst of all, what if I wasn’t entertaining? Suddenly, I was questioning my abundant wisdom and knowledge, very aware of how sometimes it’s much easier it is to talk to “grownups” rather than kids, especially when you don’t really know what you’re doing.
Ready or not, the fateful day came and I made my way to the classroom to pretend I knew what I was doing and to inspire the future generation. I gave them a two minute introduction to what I was doing, not really knowing what to tell them and how much information to give them, partly because I didn’t even know how to give details about a job that I still don’t understand. When my mind went blank, I decided a Q and A would be the best mode of instruction.
They asked about animals, so I told them about the flying cockroaches and huge spiders that I was recently informed of. Their faces looked like mine when I found out, eyes wide and mouths open, and many of them pushed themselves a few inches back as if to distance themselves from the horrid spiders I was destined face in the near future. I got to tell them about how I wouldn’t have a car for two years but instead would use a bike or public transportation, laughing inside at their looks of disgust and thinking that their idea of public transportation was probably much preferable to what I am about to encounter. I have visions of buses breaking down on creaky and rotting bridges either in blistering heat or pouring down rain. (If it’s going to break down it has to be the worst possible conditions right?) It seemed however, that their main concern was the airplane ride.
Boy in the second row: “How long is the airplane ride?”
Me: “Well, I have to fly to Miami and from there I have a 8 hour flight to Brazil and then a 3 hour flight to Paraguay.” Truthfully, I wasn’t sure that was correct information, I was just repeating the parts I remembered.
Girl sitting next to him: “How long is your flight?”
Heads simultaneously swiveled to stare at her, with looks of disbelief.
Me: “Um, I just answered that question.”
Boy in the back row: “How long is your flight to Miami?”
Me: “Um… I don’t… know. 4… hours?”
Two minutes later… “Why do you have to stop in Brazil?”
I then went into a discussion of international airports and the necessity to fly into an international airport from the United States, you know, one like LAX.
“So why can’t you just fly to Brazil from LAX?”
Me: “Because I have to go to Miami for a day of orientation first.”
Nonobservant girl: “So how long would your flight be if you just flew from LAX to Paraguay?”
Me: “Um, I have no idea.”
Five minutes later, quiet boy on the left: “Will you be able to see the jungle from the airplane?”
Me: “Well, I’ll be flying at night, so probably not, but will be flying over it.”
“So how much of your plane ride is over the ocean?”
Me: “This part of it,” I said, dragging my finger across a map, to show the projected plane ride over the ocean and jungle I wouldn’t be able to see at night.
After about half an hour of discussing my undefined job and flight plans, we called it quits and I was out of the spotlight. Later during their homework time, one girl came up to me and asked, “Um… If you were in danger, would they let you come home?” I smiled and responded with a yes. A look of relief washed over her face and she ran back to her seat smiling, happy to know I wasn’t putting my life in danger by building outhouses. I went home processing the events and questions of the day, laughing at their obsession with airplanes and touched by their concern for my safety. Still reflecting on my previous nervousness, I realized the irony of my thought process. Mary asked me to come to share with them so they could see something past self-entitlement and my main concern was being entertaining. Even more ironic is the fact that part of my reasons for joining the Peace Corps is so that I can see a world outside of myself and help other people. I don’t know if I really did share any of my supposed wisdom or knowledge or if they will remember me in 20 years. Some of them have probably already forgotten me and that’s ok. Hopefully though some of them will remember that there are other people in the world who need help and that it is worth it to endure flying cockroaches, long plane rides over dark jungles, and public transportation in order to do that.
Ready or not, the fateful day came and I made my way to the classroom to pretend I knew what I was doing and to inspire the future generation. I gave them a two minute introduction to what I was doing, not really knowing what to tell them and how much information to give them, partly because I didn’t even know how to give details about a job that I still don’t understand. When my mind went blank, I decided a Q and A would be the best mode of instruction.
They asked about animals, so I told them about the flying cockroaches and huge spiders that I was recently informed of. Their faces looked like mine when I found out, eyes wide and mouths open, and many of them pushed themselves a few inches back as if to distance themselves from the horrid spiders I was destined face in the near future. I got to tell them about how I wouldn’t have a car for two years but instead would use a bike or public transportation, laughing inside at their looks of disgust and thinking that their idea of public transportation was probably much preferable to what I am about to encounter. I have visions of buses breaking down on creaky and rotting bridges either in blistering heat or pouring down rain. (If it’s going to break down it has to be the worst possible conditions right?) It seemed however, that their main concern was the airplane ride.
Boy in the second row: “How long is the airplane ride?”
Me: “Well, I have to fly to Miami and from there I have a 8 hour flight to Brazil and then a 3 hour flight to Paraguay.” Truthfully, I wasn’t sure that was correct information, I was just repeating the parts I remembered.
Girl sitting next to him: “How long is your flight?”
Heads simultaneously swiveled to stare at her, with looks of disbelief.
Me: “Um, I just answered that question.”
Boy in the back row: “How long is your flight to Miami?”
Me: “Um… I don’t… know. 4… hours?”
Two minutes later… “Why do you have to stop in Brazil?”
I then went into a discussion of international airports and the necessity to fly into an international airport from the United States, you know, one like LAX.
“So why can’t you just fly to Brazil from LAX?”
Me: “Because I have to go to Miami for a day of orientation first.”
Nonobservant girl: “So how long would your flight be if you just flew from LAX to Paraguay?”
Me: “Um, I have no idea.”
Five minutes later, quiet boy on the left: “Will you be able to see the jungle from the airplane?”
Me: “Well, I’ll be flying at night, so probably not, but will be flying over it.”
“So how much of your plane ride is over the ocean?”
Me: “This part of it,” I said, dragging my finger across a map, to show the projected plane ride over the ocean and jungle I wouldn’t be able to see at night.
After about half an hour of discussing my undefined job and flight plans, we called it quits and I was out of the spotlight. Later during their homework time, one girl came up to me and asked, “Um… If you were in danger, would they let you come home?” I smiled and responded with a yes. A look of relief washed over her face and she ran back to her seat smiling, happy to know I wasn’t putting my life in danger by building outhouses. I went home processing the events and questions of the day, laughing at their obsession with airplanes and touched by their concern for my safety. Still reflecting on my previous nervousness, I realized the irony of my thought process. Mary asked me to come to share with them so they could see something past self-entitlement and my main concern was being entertaining. Even more ironic is the fact that part of my reasons for joining the Peace Corps is so that I can see a world outside of myself and help other people. I don’t know if I really did share any of my supposed wisdom or knowledge or if they will remember me in 20 years. Some of them have probably already forgotten me and that’s ok. Hopefully though some of them will remember that there are other people in the world who need help and that it is worth it to endure flying cockroaches, long plane rides over dark jungles, and public transportation in order to do that.
Sunday, January 3, 2010
goodbye orange county, hello uncertainty!
A couple days ago, I moved back to my mom’s house in Camarillo. It seemed rather appropriate, considering the timing of the new year, but I found myself dreading it just a little bit. It’s not that I don’t want to be here, I just know that this move is one big step in the transition for me in moving to Paraguay. After saying goodbyes in Orange County, and moving an hour and a half away from the life that I’m used to, I’m starting to realize that it’s a lot harder to say goodbye than I thought it was. How do you just end one chapter of your life and move onto the next without feeling some sorrow for what you are leaving behind? I’m realizing it takes a different kind of courage to leave everything you know and are comfortable with. I’m so excited to leave, but I’m terrified at the same time and I feel like I’ve moved into a whirlwind of emotions. This morning I was talking with my mom and a wave of fear came crashing down on me and tears started rolling down my cheeks. Suddenly for no apparent reason, I was missing people already and terrified to move to another country and speak a language I don’t understand.
It’s this weird mix of emotions that I haven’t figured out how to sort out yet. I keep on thinking, “WHAT. am. I. DOing??” The answer is, I have no idea, but I’m doing it anyway. When I tell people I’m going into the Peace Corps, a lot of people say, “oh I wish I could do something like that!” The thing is, “something like that” always sounds better on paper than it feels in real life. It’s those fears though that make it as exciting as it is and make me want to do it even more. I’m scared, but isn’t it that uncertainty that makes it worth it? Don’t the challenges make it all the more exciting? Isn’t that why I wanted to do this in the first place? Maybe that’s what life is about, taking challenges and running with them, taking those fears and overcoming them. Whether it is or not, that’s what I’m doing. I don’t really know what Paraguay holds for me, but I’m going there anyway. 36 days and counting!!!
It’s this weird mix of emotions that I haven’t figured out how to sort out yet. I keep on thinking, “WHAT. am. I. DOing??” The answer is, I have no idea, but I’m doing it anyway. When I tell people I’m going into the Peace Corps, a lot of people say, “oh I wish I could do something like that!” The thing is, “something like that” always sounds better on paper than it feels in real life. It’s those fears though that make it as exciting as it is and make me want to do it even more. I’m scared, but isn’t it that uncertainty that makes it worth it? Don’t the challenges make it all the more exciting? Isn’t that why I wanted to do this in the first place? Maybe that’s what life is about, taking challenges and running with them, taking those fears and overcoming them. Whether it is or not, that’s what I’m doing. I don’t really know what Paraguay holds for me, but I’m going there anyway. 36 days and counting!!!
Tuesday, December 22, 2009
and so the adventure begins...
Ok, I'm finally doing it. I keep telling everyone, "I'm going to start a blog so everyone can know what’s going on while I’m in Paraguay," secretly wondering if I really do want to communicate with everyone through posts, sent out into the internet abyss. Maybe that's just an excuse to myself for being lazy, but either way I decided now is the time to actually buckle down and start it. I guess my reasons for starting my blog now, rather than when I actually leave the country are twofold. First, I want to make sure that everyone who wants to read my blog has the address before I leave and knows how to communicate with me if they want. But second, I had the strange realization a couple days ago that this is the first chapter for me in transitioning my life into the Peace Corps, and I thought that should be documented.
Maybe that should have been a "duh" realization for me, but knowing something and feeling it are two completely different things. I've known for a long time that I've been planning on moving back home to Camarillo for a month, that I'm going to quit my jobs at the end of the year, that I'm moving away from all of my friends, that I will not have easy access to the internet or the phone, but that all hit me fast and hard the other night. I had just come from a graduation party and I dropped my friend off at her house. As I put my car in reverse to make my way back to my now furniture-less and very empty apartment, I realized that things will never be like this again. The days here that somehow felt like they would go on forever are suddenly very numbered, and are flying by faster than I thought was possible. Yes, I will still have a month to spend with my family, say my last goodbyes and somehow pack two years worth of stuff into a couple of suitcases, but I am leaving a place I have come to call home for the past 4 years. I am moving away from most of my friends, I am leaving a job I have grown to love, and as excited as I am to go to Paraguay and start a new adventure, there is a little part of me that is sorry to leave because I will miss it all so much.
With this realization came a sudden rush of tears, and I cried myself back to Seal Beach. Yes, I admit it, I cried. It was only after I found myself in bumper to bumper traffic on the 91 (yes, you can hit bad traffic at midnight) and realized how much my head already hurt from crying, that I stopped crying, and just drove in silence. Over the last four years I have made some very dear friends, many of whom have had a big influence on the person I am today. When I dropped my friend off, I realized that very soon, I won't be able to call her whenever I want and talk for an hour. I won't be able to go to my friends houses and apartments and just hang out. I will very soon no longer be working at FAST and won't be able to just sit in the office and talk and joke with all my coworkers. It's not that I didn't know this was coming, but I hadn't really realized how much I'm going to miss everyone, and hadn't really realized how thankful I am that I have had these friends. It's not just that I'm leaving it all, but I know that it will truly never be like this again. When I come back, all of my friends will be in different places (literally and figuratively), and while I know this happens at every major stage of life, there is a piece of me that wants to believe that life will not continue here without me. It's strange to think that all these changes will happen whether or not I'm there to see them.
As much as I will miss many comforts of modern day America like the internet, my car, running water, Target, and *sigh* Starbucks, it is the people I will miss the most. This is not meant to be a purely sad post, and I'm not writing it to depress you all. I'm writing it because I am thankful for what I have been blessed with and it will be a bittersweet departure. I want you all to know that I love you and will miss you all very much.
To all of my friends I made through Biola, thank you. You and large amounts of coffee are some of the main reasons that I graduated college and got through the year and a half afterwards as a semi-sane person. (I in no way claim to be a completely sane person. After all, I'm the one leaving to go live in a developing country for the next two years.) You have meant so much to me and I am truly blessed to be able to call you friends.
To everyone at FAST, you guys are all crazy, and I love you for it… it’s actually the reason I fit in so well. I can’t believe there were days I got paid to hang out with people that became my friends. I have a feeling I will probably never find a staff quite like us, and I’m definitely miss it.
This first post I dedicate to Erin. It was you who gave me the idea to apply for the Peace Corps in the first place. For all the insanity that happens to me over the next two years, I blame you.
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