My last night here in Maryland, I came to understand what it is to pack up your life into two impossibly small, unbelievably heavy suitcases in order to take a chance on an unknown place where a new space awaits.
Come Monday, when most people are returning to their regularly scheduled schoolwork, jobs, or otherwise, I will be a shiny new teaching intern in the mountains of Malawi: Dedza, the site of the Malawian College of Forestry. My job in the Peace Corps will necessarily involve teaching, but I will be there to first help improve secondary schools at the grassroots, community level (read: they are not a government priority, yet). I will train in a village-based "cluster," so it will be less like sitting through classes and more like taking the jalopy out for a spin with my brand new PC buds. I can picture it now: "Does anyone know what that road sign back there meant?"
I will be living in a "homestay" for the three months of teacher training, so I'll get an intimate glimpse into - and a chance to be a part of - the Malawian family. Imagine intensive language classes until noon, working in the classroom until dinner, and then coming home to a "mom" or "sister" speaking to you rapidly in a language you're just beginning to grasp. Talk about a brain workout! Throw in pit latrines and bathing under the stars, and you might harken back to summer camp with the soundtrack on mute.
It won't be so bad. I'm actually very excited for the new language - but the intensive immersion training is a new thing for me, so all sorts of scenarios (like the previous one, for example) are playing out in my head. I am not sure what language I'll be learning, even though I have done some work with Chichewa; I could be in a Chitimbuka-dominant area too.
Most everyone wants to know how I'm going to eat vegan in Africa. Well, if I wanted to do that, I'm sure I'd use my resources to find a way. That's not part of the plan, however; I feel that the protest of the Ag industry's careless practices is going to be really irrelevant in a place where a chicken is slaughtered in honor of a guest by the host family, right before being cooked -- and in a place where food production for export is much more important than importing fun things like tangelos from new zealand and bananas from guatemala. I have seeds to plant a garden, but you better believe I'm going to eat what is available for my own health as well as to show respect for my new home culture. Integration is about changing your ways - not demanding others cater to peculiar American preferences.
But you'll hear about all that when it comes to pass! This week of preparations has been wonderful for absorbing so much love from many friends who have taken the time to "see me off." Most of my relatives have given me their blessing, which means a lot; I don't come from a very adventuresome, service-oriented family, so the idea of it still seems a bit left-field to them. But they have come to understand my passion and commitment, and are supporting me as best they can -- and that's all I could have wanted. I feel strongly now that the life I have had here has been very full of good people, and I am sad that I'm leaving it at such a time -- even though my departing caused so many great visits! I choose to interpret these events to mean that there is much to come back to, and that I have many examples of good people to enrich my life in the US.
It's time to switch over to the travel blog, and I'll write there as much as I can. I encourage any and all of you to drop me a letter in the mail, because it only costs 94 cents, and because I'd love to hear from you about the familiar and comforting details of home! Especially election drama.
25.9.08
13.9.08
So happy together..
It's been a week since I packed my bags and said goodbye to my summer home, the co-op on G street in Southeast DC. I miss the house and the housemates something awful. Here's a not-so-little brainstorm/torrent about what I loved about it.
My first success in sharing a bedroom.
Always finding someone around to chat with.
More politics than a Georgetown library.
Being a stone's throw away from Eastern Market, where I managed to consistently get a week's worth of groceries for about $20.
A well-equipped kitchen and a free shelf to scrounge when I was too lazy to cook.
Cute little mice to keep us guessing in the kitchen.
A garden to toil in, to harvest tomatoes, squash, basil, peppers, and sunflowers from, and to compost in.
Housemates who understood, respected, and catered to my peculiar diet.
Folks interested in good books, good music, far-flung travel, serious documentaries and lectures, patriotic parades, afternoons in the Library of Congress or Ebenezer's Cafe, a good game of scrabble, or a night of karaoke.
A lax policy on drinking in a quaker-owned rowhouse.
A cute, safe neighborhood with kind neighbors and tidy front yards.
A five minute walk to the metro stop.
Amazing rent prices for volunteers and interns.
Nightly games of "tennis" and "soccer" at the nearby park.
Walking everywhere.
Magnolia trees and lavender after the rains.
Sharing resources like laundry detergent, cooking oil, sugar, and toilet paper.
Ceiling fans with half the lightbulbs unplugged to save on electricity.
A great supply of tea and a water heater at the ready.
Room for my yoga mat.
A shower and chore schedule.
House meetings with hilarious, half-hour long icebreakers.
Connecting with friends of friends who share the same level of awareness and compassion.
Nightowls coexisting with morning glories.
A lending library almost bigger than my personal library.
Walks after dinner.
Staying around for an hour talking at dinnertime.
Housemates with lives as busy as mine.
Meeting housemates' friends and being comfortable with them very quickly.
Christians with high levels of tolerance and respect.
A guest policy welcoming people to eat and stay with us for free.
Fit and healthy girls to keep me inspired.
Two daily newspaper subscriptions.
Hanging out at the pool for the first time.
Complete dependence on public transportation.
Picnics on the mall or in the sculpture garden.
Nearby eco-bike tours and a neighborhood bike shop.
Concerts on the capitol lawn for fourth of july and memorial day.
Good listeners.
Cutting down internet use outside of work to the library or slow house computer only.
The house whiteboard for sharing messages.
A paid blockbuster account.
Togetherness and respect of each others' space.
My broadened worldview.
My first success in sharing a bedroom.
Always finding someone around to chat with.
More politics than a Georgetown library.
Being a stone's throw away from Eastern Market, where I managed to consistently get a week's worth of groceries for about $20.
A well-equipped kitchen and a free shelf to scrounge when I was too lazy to cook.
Cute little mice to keep us guessing in the kitchen.
A garden to toil in, to harvest tomatoes, squash, basil, peppers, and sunflowers from, and to compost in.
Housemates who understood, respected, and catered to my peculiar diet.
Folks interested in good books, good music, far-flung travel, serious documentaries and lectures, patriotic parades, afternoons in the Library of Congress or Ebenezer's Cafe, a good game of scrabble, or a night of karaoke.
A lax policy on drinking in a quaker-owned rowhouse.
A cute, safe neighborhood with kind neighbors and tidy front yards.
A five minute walk to the metro stop.
Amazing rent prices for volunteers and interns.
Nightly games of "tennis" and "soccer" at the nearby park.
Walking everywhere.
Magnolia trees and lavender after the rains.
Sharing resources like laundry detergent, cooking oil, sugar, and toilet paper.
Ceiling fans with half the lightbulbs unplugged to save on electricity.
A great supply of tea and a water heater at the ready.
Room for my yoga mat.
A shower and chore schedule.
House meetings with hilarious, half-hour long icebreakers.
Connecting with friends of friends who share the same level of awareness and compassion.
Nightowls coexisting with morning glories.
A lending library almost bigger than my personal library.
Walks after dinner.
Staying around for an hour talking at dinnertime.
Housemates with lives as busy as mine.
Meeting housemates' friends and being comfortable with them very quickly.
Christians with high levels of tolerance and respect.
A guest policy welcoming people to eat and stay with us for free.
Fit and healthy girls to keep me inspired.
Two daily newspaper subscriptions.
Hanging out at the pool for the first time.
Complete dependence on public transportation.
Picnics on the mall or in the sculpture garden.
Nearby eco-bike tours and a neighborhood bike shop.
Concerts on the capitol lawn for fourth of july and memorial day.
Good listeners.
Cutting down internet use outside of work to the library or slow house computer only.
The house whiteboard for sharing messages.
A paid blockbuster account.
Togetherness and respect of each others' space.
My broadened worldview.
8.9.08
Only child becomes a Big Sis
I fully took on the role of Big Sis for the first time this summer - and really enjoyed it. It's a funny feeling to accept being looked up to: initially, I failed to spot it, but after a while, I realized that what I learned from my experiences in college, in romance, and in the working world have given me a unique ability offer guidance to other people my age or younger. This came in handy with a huge crop of interns arriving at CHEJ in June and departing in early August. Until this summer, I didn't know what a difference there can be between 20 and 23!
Part of the sudden realization is that I can almost feel how much I've grown in the past 6 months or so -- like mental stretch marks. Working in the non-profit sector and gearing up for Peace Corps has separated me from a deep-seated selfishness I've had lurking for a long time. I finally found something to give myself to. In college, I selfishly pursued a degree so I could someday make money (losing lots of my zest in the process); in college, I selfishly pursued a relationship so I could feel good about myself and have an outlet for my energies. Now, although I have learned the value of money in being able to provide for future endeavors from talking to those with 30, 40 years on me, I have learned the value of giving and loving first-hand. Striking a balance is going to be hard, because vilifying money comes to me almost as a reflex to abundance, but walking that line is essential.
I've also matured as a result of a very protracted break-up of my most meaningful tryst to date. I've had tons of time to reflect and re-reflect on my actions, his actions, and everything else, such that I can understand now the objective reasons that we were not right together, quite apart from any feelings involved. I accept that with no feelings of regret or desire for revenge. It makes me sad sometimes, to finally be able to see his flaws. Love was blinding - it took a sudden sharpening of focus to know that.
As a counselor for my friends' relationships, romantic and otherwise, I find I can easily detect patterns of emotionally charged action-reaction so I try to help them to see the big picture. If only someone had done that for me! But it's a little strange to feel like a Big Sis to my friends; won't they realize how they could be thinking their way to being happier? I wouldn't deny them any support they need, though -- someday, I know they will be offering sisterly words of wisdom in my time of need.
Part of the sudden realization is that I can almost feel how much I've grown in the past 6 months or so -- like mental stretch marks. Working in the non-profit sector and gearing up for Peace Corps has separated me from a deep-seated selfishness I've had lurking for a long time. I finally found something to give myself to. In college, I selfishly pursued a degree so I could someday make money (losing lots of my zest in the process); in college, I selfishly pursued a relationship so I could feel good about myself and have an outlet for my energies. Now, although I have learned the value of money in being able to provide for future endeavors from talking to those with 30, 40 years on me, I have learned the value of giving and loving first-hand. Striking a balance is going to be hard, because vilifying money comes to me almost as a reflex to abundance, but walking that line is essential.
I've also matured as a result of a very protracted break-up of my most meaningful tryst to date. I've had tons of time to reflect and re-reflect on my actions, his actions, and everything else, such that I can understand now the objective reasons that we were not right together, quite apart from any feelings involved. I accept that with no feelings of regret or desire for revenge. It makes me sad sometimes, to finally be able to see his flaws. Love was blinding - it took a sudden sharpening of focus to know that.
As a counselor for my friends' relationships, romantic and otherwise, I find I can easily detect patterns of emotionally charged action-reaction so I try to help them to see the big picture. If only someone had done that for me! But it's a little strange to feel like a Big Sis to my friends; won't they realize how they could be thinking their way to being happier? I wouldn't deny them any support they need, though -- someday, I know they will be offering sisterly words of wisdom in my time of need.
6.9.08
Solutions to the Juice Box Dilemma
Avid and capable recycler that I am, I can't seem to figure out how to get breakfast items like soy and rice milk in a sustainable container. However - the hardy, bacteria-free box milks from Tetrapak (a la grade school juice boxes and Parmalat) are recyclable. Woop woop! But who will take them?
This question is actually kind of complex, like the recycling process itself. There are at least 6 separate layers - paper, aluminum, and plastic - that have to be separated - and not everyone's municipal recycler is even interested in something that tedious, and fewer still actually provide the service. I tried to call around today to find out some more local folks to take my boxes, which I've saved up - a whole stinky bag of them, thanks - but couldn't do any better than a place out in Oregon called BRING recycling. I've sent stuff to them before, and they seem pretty reputable, so here's their address in case YOU want to save up and recycle your aseptic packages:
BRING Recycling Warehouse (541) 746-3023
4446 Franklin Blvd
Glenwood, OR 97403
Make sure you flatten them before mailing, and remove any plastic pour spouts, etc.
A last thought: I could try to remove myself entirely from the "American Breakfast Establishment." I've done it in China, where they serve you steaming noodles and veggies with heavy bread. For some reason though, sleepy me always wants something familiar and comfortable - leave lunch and dinner for venturing wildly into unknown food territory. Luckily, another breakfast craving, tea, is available literally worldwide, under amazingly similar names in varying languages. Wo yao cha.
This question is actually kind of complex, like the recycling process itself. There are at least 6 separate layers - paper, aluminum, and plastic - that have to be separated - and not everyone's municipal recycler is even interested in something that tedious, and fewer still actually provide the service. I tried to call around today to find out some more local folks to take my boxes, which I've saved up - a whole stinky bag of them, thanks - but couldn't do any better than a place out in Oregon called BRING recycling. I've sent stuff to them before, and they seem pretty reputable, so here's their address in case YOU want to save up and recycle your aseptic packages:
BRING Recycling Warehouse (541) 746-3023
4446 Franklin Blvd
Glenwood, OR 97403
Make sure you flatten them before mailing, and remove any plastic pour spouts, etc.
A last thought: I could try to remove myself entirely from the "American Breakfast Establishment." I've done it in China, where they serve you steaming noodles and veggies with heavy bread. For some reason though, sleepy me always wants something familiar and comfortable - leave lunch and dinner for venturing wildly into unknown food territory. Luckily, another breakfast craving, tea, is available literally worldwide, under amazingly similar names in varying languages. Wo yao cha.
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