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I received. Jars of ajvar, a huge jar of honey,
and the reminder from the kids in my new
neighborhood, that I wasn’t one of them
PAU3A!
decide to pack or leave within the next
two months.
Change is slow.
After two years you would think I
wouldn’t mind being mistaken for a Japonka,
or for that matter anything else but what I
actually was. But it wasn’t like that. In the
beginning it was okay, I got through most of
PST quite unscathed since I was always
around other volunteers even at site. Our
training village was exactly that, a training
village, and a stopover on the highway.
Even when I am in Skopje at the bus station,
where I have been for about the millionth
time I am pointed in the direction of my platform and told the time it will come in a slow
and loud voice as if the ticket were not a
clear indication - or the fact that I bought a
ticket, meant that I knew where I was going.
Some things never change.
I have though completed a couple of
tasks on my COS checklist (3 pages long)
and continue to do so. With an updated resume, I have applied for one job listing and
now receive daily emails about new jobs that
I might be interested in. I have plans to go
on a couple of road trips with friends I haven’t seen for over two years. I am penciled in
a couple of calendars and am to confirm
lunch or dinner as soon as I step foot on
Californian soil.
Change is coming.
In order to close out all my projects: I
still have to transfer responsibility of the database of projects and resources for volunteers to use. I have to hand over the warden
phone. I have to complete my PCPP project
that plans to build a fence in the ensuing
week – the last item on that particular list. I
have a database to complete for my organization, a CV for a friend of mine, a lot of
clothes to give away, and random household
items. An apartment to clean and things to
The one thing though that I can
honestly say is that I would not change any
part of my experience but nor would I
want to repeat it. Being reminded of my
foreigner status comes with a lot of responsibility – even if they can only guess at my
ethnicity or even my nationality. The Peace
Corps brand that I traded in for my college graduate status will only be visible to
me and to those who served next to me.
But I will be going home to sweet anonymity, family, home-cooked meals, different
types of food: sushi, burritos and pad thai
– oh my!
Change is good.
And so I am reminded that Peace
Corps has its own culture, its own set of
rules, its own language (acronyms gone
crazy) but though not being paid surely
bites into the budget, the volunteering or
problem solving will not cease to occur
as new challenges are thrown my way.
And since endings always seem corny to
me and I am more than willing to oblige.
Be the change you wish to see in the
world. (Gandhi) - Ch-ch-ch-changes.