An update on the past week masomenos
Wow, a lot’s happened since the last time I posted. I finished my Peace Corps service and am now with my grandparents. There’s lots that could be said about the experience: the going away party was great, if not a little surreal, as was saying goodbye to people.

In Peace Corps, they say that the transition OUT of Peace Corps is much more difficult than the transition IN. This is for a variety of reasons, which I’ll speculate upon now.

When you go in, you don’t really know what you’re getting yourself into: it’s exciting and for the next two something years, there’s a plan. Yes, it’s hard getting to know the language and the culture, but you’re undergoing this transition with a group of other Americans, all in the same boat as yourself. After training each day, or even during training, you talk about the differences and the difficulties with others who understand almost EXACTLY how you feel, what you’re going through. There’s a nobility to what you are doing, to the transition you are undergoing: you are doing all of this to help people you’ve never met (or atleast that’s what you tell yourself: if you are honest, you are probably doing Peace Corps for yourself: to gain life experience, to experience another culture from the inside, to qualify for those post-Peace Corps scholarships, or what have you). It’s difficult but the end is insight, a mere weeks away for training, or a couple years (700 odd days, but who’s counting) away till the journey ends, till you COS (or Close Of Service: afterall when you leave, you haven’t quite learned all of the acronyms)

Fast forward 2 years (less if you leave early, more if you extend). Everyone doesn’t COS at the same time: rather it’s a trickle. When you leave, it’s not as a part of the group you came in with, and when you arrive in America, you go back to friends or family, most if not all of whom have never experienced something along the lines of what you’ve experienced. Your identity is taken away: you’re not an American (even though you are, it looses its importance) or a Peace Corps Volunteer (rather, you are an RPCV, a Returned Peace Corps Volunteer). There’s no job or housing waiting for you, no group of people who are readily available to talk and empathize with you about what you are undergoing. What you are doing, presumably laying on your family’s couch, or in your old room, figuring out what comes next isn’t noble: if anything, at 20 or 30 something years old, it’s a little bit sad. And, probably the biggest thing for me, right now, the curse and the blessing about coming back, is the fact that you’re viewing American culture through a slightly skewed lens. Yes, this once was your culture, you lived in it for 20 or 30 something years, but now you find yourself questioning what is normal, and even questioning this life you used to fantasize about. Below is a partial list of things like that, that I’ve found. Other RPCVs feel free to add your own. Post comments if you want/think I need further explanation.

-flushing toilet paper
-long hot showers
-not worrying about if the power is going to go out/not having the power go out
-actually needing to have a cell phone (although CV is starting to get to that point)
-NOT saying “Hello” and “How are you?” to everyone you encounter/everyone you meet
-speaking to people who have English as their second language, and not needing/feeling compelled to speak to them in their first language (I went out for Mexican food the other night and the server spoke English with a Spanish accent: my first reaction was to try to speak to him in his language. Why? Because for 2 years I’D been the outsider needing to use another language to fit in, to be served, to not get ripped off when out dining…I’m worried that this sounds a little bit racist, but it’s not meant to be…for two years I spoke another language, and often did it when I didn’t have to in an attempt to fit in: it’s weird not to have to do that now)
-there are like NO kids here, and the ones that are here, you can’t just go up to and play with because that would seem creepy.
-people actually bag your groceries for you
-I haven’t talked about Peace Corps administration for over a week: a record I believe
-if I say something in Krioulu, ninguem podi intendi (no one’s can understand)
-I go from an air conditioned house to an air conditioned car to an air conditioned building
-so many choices. This encompasses a lot: grocery stores and what they have there, the billion choices of ice cream; video rental places that have a ton of choices, and what they have aren’t pirated DVDs, malls with tons and tons of stores.
-restaurants that have absolutely EVERYTHING that’s on the menu
-not being able to instantly find my friends in any place.

I guess that’s all for now…I’m sure I’ll think of other things later.