Now, ten weeks of training has dwindled
to ten days of training. Although I joined the Peace Corps and came
to serve in a community away from other Americans, the reality of
this is impossible to ignore right now.
When I arrived in Lesotho two months
ago, I came with my eyes wide open, ready to explore everything this
country has to offer. Although saying goodbye to my family and
friends for the next two years was an obvious reality, I was too
excited to dwell on such things.
This past week, however, I finally
spent some time grappling with these realities. I think the internal
emotional roller coaster I felt each evening after my sunset-curfew
was a combination of mental preparations to say goodbye to the
trainees and Basotho that I have befriended over the last two months
combined with the approach of yesterday; the first two family
birthdays I will have missed by the time I return to the states.
Knowing I will soon be saying goodbye to my host family and local
friends and that I will generally be stuck with only WhatApp
conversations with my fellow trainees forced me to also consider all
those lovely people supporting me from the US (and hopefully reading
this now!). It is genuinely incredible to consider that I will not
see most of those people until two years from now when I finally
return home.
Thursday morning, I finally pulled out
the pictures I had purposefully printed and brought with me. A dozen
now decorate my wall, highlighting the smiling faces of people I
adore. I had been avoiding this task knowing I would be moving soon,
but just seeing these people every day reminds me of the love and
support of people back home.
Yesterday, we had a training field trip
to Ts'ehlanyane National Park. This beautiful park in the mountains
(because everything in Lesotho is in the mountains) provided the
perfect punctuation to my challenging week. We hiked from the daily
use area to a beautiful resort that I have heard we will get to stay
at for our Mid-service Conference in a year. From there, we hiked
down a steep and winding trail to a beautiful spring-fed natural
pool.
Those of us brave enough jumped in the
water, the temperature of which reminded me of jumping off the Harvey
Gamage into Maine's frigid May
ocean. Many people surfaced from their jumps with expletives because
it was so startlingly cold. I loved it!
We
returned to the day use area where Peace Corps staff had barbequed a
feast. Having not cooked meat for myself yet in country, I dove into
the sausage, burgers, and beef. We all gorged ourselves like it was
Thanksgiving day before enjoying a dance party, Cards Against
Humanity, and beautiful sunshine.
In the
midst of all of this, I enjoyed some really wonderful conversations
with trainees I feel I never see enough of. Through one of these
conversations I learned that my friend had felt she was on the same
roller coaster all week. We wondered together if maybe that is just
the way of things, maybe we have to go through a week like this in
order to be truly ready to move on from training to the role of
volunteer, to transition from our training families to our villages,
to transition from speaking a lot of English to communicating
primarily in Sesotho.
I woke
this morning relishing one of my last days off in training. Mundane
life tasks that I save for Sundays provided me purpose and joy. It is
hard to hate doing laundry by hand when the sun is shining brightly
and village children come to chat while you work. I finished earlier
than usual, impressed at how much more efficiently I can wash
clothes, sweep & mop, and even clean my shoes! I spoke with
various Basotho visitors to our yard in Sesotho. As I sat down to
enjoy a cup of coffee—the real stuff because it is Sunday—I
reflected on the internal challenges the week had posed, the
absolutely fabulous Saturday I'd had, and how ready I feel in the
moment for the next two years.
It
will not always be easy. If the Peace Corps promised an easy
experience, I would never have come. It will be incredible, however,
and the training experience definitely has me feeling prepared for
the next steps in this journey.
1 comment:
Good luck Beth! We're definitely reading back home & holding you in our hearts.
Rae Hittinger
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