23

The countdown continues. I’ll forget I’m leaving, get frustrated with the culture or language, remember that I’ll be on a plane in a few weeks, and feel a familiar swell of melancholy creep up as I think about how this experience is going to end very, very soon.

For a long time last year, my emotions were relatively constant. I wouldn’t feel particularly angry or sad, but I wasn’t necessarily ‘happy’ (whatever that means), either. There would be those quintessential Peace Corps moments where everything would seem heightened, but most of the time I was just living my life—going to school, cooking, visiting my friends, and watching way too much T.V. Lately, I’ve been either deliriously happy about going home or completely terrified about leaving behind my family here in Rwanda. My parents will be the first people to tell you that my emotions have been unpredictable and intense; they’ve had to deal with many a nonsensical phone call this month. Thanks, Mom and Dad!

Because of the mood swings and an increasing amount of work, it’s been a rough few weeks. The government shutdown was stressful because we’ve been waiting for grant money and it was possible it wouldn’t come through (thankfully we don’t have to worry about that anymore-whew). I said goodbye to my host family, had a few premature goodbyes that involved more than a few tears in my village, and soul-searched with my fellow volunteers about what’s next and how to move on from Peace Corps. Somehow we’ve made it this far, and it’s reassuring to think that we only have to deal with the delicate balance of mood-swings and stresses for a little bit longer. Soon we can go home and binge on cheese and candy or go on an awesome COS trip full of new adventures.

Lately I’ve taken comfort in little symmetries that I’ve manufactured for my own sanity—like that I will leave Rwanda exactly one month after my replacement arrived in my village for site visit, and that my plane ticket home will follow a similar route to the plane that carried Ed3 to Rwanda over two years ago. My favorite band came out with an album recently, and one of the refrains is ‘we’re going home’ over and over again; another small comfort. Little coincidences like that help me reaffirm that returning to the States is the right decision.

For a variety of reasons, this upcoming transition will be really tough. Writing blog entries and talking it over with people here and family back home helps, because it forces me to sort through my complicated mess of emotions and thoughts, and hopefully make SOME sense of what I’ve been thinking and feeling during this last leg of service.

But I’m still worried that my life in America will fail to satisfy the person that I’ve become in Peace Corps. In the past few weeks, it’s beginning to dawn on me just how much I’ve changed, and it’s disconcerting to think that who I am now might not match up with my old life in Minnesota. I know certain things about my future, like that I would like to go to graduate school next year, and that I would love to live somewhere outside the U.S. once I’m finished with school. But the 8 months between when I COS and when I would potentially leave for grad school are ambiguous and a little terrifying. A lot of changes are on the horizon—a lot of freak outs, too. 23 days!