My feet are in about an inch of water. It rained hard last
night, and no one has bailed the boat yet. It's raining again now. I have my
umbrella up, but rain keeps dripping through a hole. The water makes a micro
cascade down the umbrella's handle into my lap. The two women sitting in front
of me have their umbrellas open too, dripping on my legs. The rain continues. My
knees to my toes are wet too, but they'll dry when the sun comes out.
It's almost my last day in Wakapoa. Each time I do
something, I feel an unbidden pang that it may be my last time. Getting in the
school boat during a rain storm. Laughing with my friends. Picking up children
and throwing them in the air.
These are things I might do in America, but never like this
again. Wakapoa is special. It's confusing, and frustrating in some ways, but
also stunningly beautiful, peaceful, and loving. People look out for each other
here. Maybe it comes from a mutual understanding that things are rough, maybe
not. I received priority treatment being the white volunteer. Who knows, I
might marry someone's son and take them home with me, or might give them some
nice american things. That's certainly a part of it. That's the part of my
identity that was given the most attention. But, some of my Guyanese friends
know me just as well as my american friends, and still accept, appreciate and
care for me.
It's hard to say goodbye, knowing once I leave, I'll never
have this again. That's a part of life. Things continue to carry on, and even
if you go back to a physical place, things will have changed. But, this gives
me an appreciation for all the time I've spent here, both good and bad. It has
been the experience of a lifetime, and I'm going to focus on the positives. Though it breaks my heart to say goodbye, here's to the future, to making dreams come true.
Peace Corps was my dream for a very long time. And I guess this is what it feels like to have dreams come true. Proud, but also kind of confused, and drifting. Coming back from any adventure is hard. That's because essential
traveling/Peace Corps skills aren't as helpful when living in first world
America. No one is impressed with my ability to carry water long distances, or
wash dishes by hand super fast. People look at me weird when I pop a blister
with a knife, or gnaw on a chicken bone to get out the last bit of marrow. But,
these are things I learned to do in my village. They helped me get by. But, I'm
not living like I used to anymore.
Skills I needed to survive in Peace Corps are outdated. And
the ones I used to have to survive in America faded. Such as driving a car
without having anxiety, or being able to order something at a fast food
restaurant where there are so many choices. Or even knowing what goes in a
dishwasher. I do know how to make small talk for long periods of time with
people who might or might not care about me, but I don't know how to find my
ideal job, or where to park so I don't get a ticket. I didn't need those
skills, but now I do.
It doesn't exactly surprise me that there's a high level of
anxiety in America. Something that seems simple, like going to the doctor, is
hard. Real hard. But its funny because water, electricity, and basic food is
easy to find. But many intangibles are harder. Community doesn't exist
everywhere. Being respected as a human, being understood doesn't seem as available now as it did for the past two years. I'm blaming that on the exceptional people I was able to spend time with, and the culture here of dehumanizing people to make it easier to understand, to cope with. America is huge and thinking about the vast number of people, their hopes, their dreams, everything that makes them amazing, is frankly overwhelming. But, that's America. Overwhelming. Stunning. Do I dare say diverse? America is a bit of a mess, but it's where I'm from, and I'll always be proud of that.
Change is inevitable, and it doesn't do any good to fight it. New dreams are on the horizon, begging to be chased. Maybe I'll succeed, and maybe I won't. But this is something I have learned from Peace Corps: the goal is what motivates you, but it's truly the journey which lets you grow. This is it. On to new dreams. Onto new journeys. My options feel limitless. It's terrifying, but ultimately empowering. The journey I left for 2 years ago has closed, and I know I'll always carry it with me. But, this journey all it's unseen curves
and wildness, is just beginning.
