It's started
The leaving, the mass exodus of the 28 Americans I came to Moldova with 26 months ago. And it's hard - to watch people go, to help them pack, to say goodbye, and to be here without them - harder than I thought it would be.
I am only going to be here a month longer than the volunteer who left the earliest, yet it feels weird already, being here, in Moldova, without "everyone." It's a given that we volunteers didn't see each other on a daily basis, some not even on a monthly basis. Moldova is a small country (slightly larger than the state of Maryland), yet some volunteers were separated by two days bus trip and many, many crappy, bumpy roads. But there was something comforting about knowing there are others like you, out there, alone, being forced fed by their host moms as well.
Still. Who joins the Peace Corps to meet Americans? No one, really. It just happens. While you spend the majority of your service as the "only American" in a place, you are constantly "surrounded" by letters, emails, text messages and phone calls from other volunteers - going through the same or similar cultural and work related situations daily. Peace Corps has a way of forging fast and intense friendships -- when you are away from home, you make yourself a home, as best as you can. I got to know my American Peace Corps friends faster than I got to know most of the friends I have in America - out of need, yes, but also because we have a common thread outside of just happening to be Americans in Moldova at the same time - we all joined the Peace Corps, which makes us all a little crazy, and predisposed to getting along, to understanding each other.
I am lucky enough to be ending my Peace Corps service with many Moldovan friends, with whom, thanks to the help of the internet, I will continue to communicate with after I am back in America. I don't worry about that. What I do worry about, however ironic, is keeping in touch with my American Peace Corps friends, once we are scattered across the lower 50, and taking part in such different realities. These are the people who got me, mentally, through the last two years. Who allowed me to be so effective in my village, who encouraged me, who laughed both at me and with me, who pushed me when I needed it the most. Sappy, maybe? Honest, yes. After two years, I have earned the right to be reminiscent.
"Ain't it Amazing all the people I met... we're the volunteers of America... "
I am only going to be here a month longer than the volunteer who left the earliest, yet it feels weird already, being here, in Moldova, without "everyone." It's a given that we volunteers didn't see each other on a daily basis, some not even on a monthly basis. Moldova is a small country (slightly larger than the state of Maryland), yet some volunteers were separated by two days bus trip and many, many crappy, bumpy roads. But there was something comforting about knowing there are others like you, out there, alone, being forced fed by their host moms as well.
Still. Who joins the Peace Corps to meet Americans? No one, really. It just happens. While you spend the majority of your service as the "only American" in a place, you are constantly "surrounded" by letters, emails, text messages and phone calls from other volunteers - going through the same or similar cultural and work related situations daily. Peace Corps has a way of forging fast and intense friendships -- when you are away from home, you make yourself a home, as best as you can. I got to know my American Peace Corps friends faster than I got to know most of the friends I have in America - out of need, yes, but also because we have a common thread outside of just happening to be Americans in Moldova at the same time - we all joined the Peace Corps, which makes us all a little crazy, and predisposed to getting along, to understanding each other.
I am lucky enough to be ending my Peace Corps service with many Moldovan friends, with whom, thanks to the help of the internet, I will continue to communicate with after I am back in America. I don't worry about that. What I do worry about, however ironic, is keeping in touch with my American Peace Corps friends, once we are scattered across the lower 50, and taking part in such different realities. These are the people who got me, mentally, through the last two years. Who allowed me to be so effective in my village, who encouraged me, who laughed both at me and with me, who pushed me when I needed it the most. Sappy, maybe? Honest, yes. After two years, I have earned the right to be reminiscent.
"Ain't it Amazing all the people I met... we're the volunteers of America... "
This entry was posted
on Wednesday, October 22, 2008 at 3:51 PM.
