It's funny how easily the pace of the Western world can sweep us away from something as simple as sharing stories. In the hustle of the end of service, I didn’t even have time to write a closing reflection surmising those last few months. How strange. Although, I think it would be unfair to say I haven’t shared my story this past year. It has just been in a different medium than the quiet, removed reflection of the internet. My service ended roughly a year ago, and I have been looking forward to my life ahead, while surreptitiously looking behind me at the path that led me here. With some distance now between my daily life and the rice paddies, I’d like to take a moment to reflect on what the Peace Corps did for me. Because, of course, I am living proof of the cliché every Returned Peace Corps Volunteer says when recruiting new volunteers: ultimately, it will not be you serving your host country. Your host country will serve you.
Don’t let me kid you. In my two years in Cambodia, I made cultural gaffes that I look back on in horror, did my fair share of pissing people off, and got away with being a stereotypically insensitive American at times. Yet somewhere in the midst of the peaceful lethargy brought on by too many bong’imes and humidity, Cambodia slapped me right across the face and opened my sleepy eyes. The funny thing is, I don’t think I even fully realized it until long after the fact. The reality is, even at its most challenging times, serving in the Peace Corps is like stretching towards some unattainable version of a more utopic society. It represents a higher ideal, a better version of the world (and yourself), and an unrealized sense of global citizenship that is just beyond our grasp.
I find myself telling stories about the Peace Corps on almost a daily basis. To anyone who will listen. Although I try to resist the urge to start every sentence with, “This one time, when I was in Cambodia…” (and other phrases that provoke a glazed expressions from even the most patient listeners), these little anecdotes have a funny way of sneaking into the most mundane conversations. It goes something like this.
I’m sitting at my desk listening to employees comment on the price of burgers at a new restaurant. Suddenly, I hear myself adding, “Oh yeah I know, its insane right? But then I think about how in the Peace Corps, we used to spend a whole day’s allowance – which was only $4 by the way -- on one burger when we were really desperate for Western food.” Right. Where did that come from? Or a friend is trying to tell me how her new job as a teacher is far more challenging than she thought it would be: “Yes, I know exactly what you mean. Your concern about the school board’s influence on budgetary issues is exactly how I felt when my co-teachers tried to force students to pay them before administering their exams.” Reality check. Completely unrelated.
While I may be overdramatizing a little here, I’m pretty sure anyone who has tried to hold a conversation with a PCV will have to laugh. Every time I introduce myself, I catch myself bracing for the inevitable part of the conversation when I need to explain what I was doing from 2008-2010. IGraduatedSaintJamesin2004MajoredInEnglishAndFrenchAtHamiltonCollegeInternedInCorporateAmerica and then went into the Peace Corps after I finished undergrad. Blink, blink, blink. ItWasIncredibleButAnywayNowIAmGoingBackToGradSchoolThisFallToPursueMyMBAISimplyCanNotWait. It’s not like I expect anyone to make a big production of my service. And I certainly hope this pause is interpreted as nothing more than my own personal reminder: It was real. I was there. It did change me -- see, here are the indelible marks left on my lifestyle and personality.
When I think about my service, I feel a little piece of myself rushing to another time and place. Not in a displaced or melancholy way, but in a sincere celebration of something that has profoundly changed me for the better. That’s not to say every day felt like a blessing, or that I was the perfect volunteer, but the overall experience was profound. So much so that I still struggle to find the perfect five-words-or-less summary of my experience when someone asks, “Oh yeah, you were out of the country for a while there. So how was the Peace Corps, anyway?”
Well, 768 words in and counting, I still don’t think I can perfectly sum it up for you. It forced me to be more open minded, more willing to stand up for what I know to be right, more grateful, stronger. Themes I’m sure you’ve heard in my other reflections, but ones that have pushed my dream ceiling far beyond that unreachable star. Not only do I have the capacity to dream bigger because I have seen what we can accomplish together, but I know we can achieve it. And there it is. Maybe I don’t need 800-plus words or the perfect catch phrase to summarize the Peace Corps. Maybe I really only need one word. Hope.Upon returning to the United States, I spent the last year working in the family insurance business. I will be joining the University of Miami School of Business MBA class of 2014. Although many of the illnesses I had in Cambodia were curable …wanderlust was not.
Success!
13 years ago
