As those of you who have moved know, it's not easy. It amazes me how many possessions I had accumulated in my two years, they must not have been essential nick-nacks either, as I was still living out of a suitcase in year one. It was quite liberating ridding myself of unnecessary goods, which I had more of than I'd like to admit (sometimes, kids would come into my house, look at my shoes under my bed, and ask if I had a store). It's amazing how much stuff we think we need to have, and how many things we actually need. I want to keep this lesson in my mind when I return to the States; there is a balance between having too spartan a lifestyle and distracting ourselves with excessive goods. That balance is different for everyone but we must always take a second to step back and evaluate ourselves (not others!). I suppose I will always myself a real coffee maker when I get back to the states, this sock-filter-thing is starting to look a little drab. I will not however, buy 3 coffee machines for myself to eliminate having to walk to another room for coffee. It's all about balance people.
With this in mind, I was able to give away enough things to pack up my past two years of life in 3 bags, which I sent back with my incredible mother. She had graciously agreed to visit one last time to soak in the glory of San Fernando, and to smuggle coffee, rum and other essential items back into the states. I couldn't have brought back the wild chicken mask that I won in my first half-marathon, ceramic gifts from friends, or authentic Nicaraguan hammocks without her help, and I will be forever grateful for her presence in my final weeks. It was also amazing getting to share my life here with her (as it has been with everyone who has visited me, I have the best friends ever!!); she got to experience the wonderful (and not so great) sides of Nicaragua, a simple (yet beautiful, as my friend Caro told me after roughing it with me) way of life, and now understands a new perspective. Therefore, it was necessary for her to experience cold showers, ungodly amounts of smoke, and latrines.
Now to goodbyes... Two years is ample time to form many relationships and friendships. I have met incredible people here and made of my best friends. Yet I had to say goodbye. It was a little sad, but not the worst. In this day and age, many "goodbyes" are in reality, not goodbyes at all, but instead a "let's keep in touch" on facebook, instagram, or whatever you kids are doing nowadays. I am going to have to get a smartphone when I get stateside; I don't think my razor can download WhatsApp. It's incredible how technology allows my brother to talk to my parents face-to-face from Istanabul, Turkey, or how I can call my friends to catch up from the wifi at my neighbors house (who now have a classy NC coffee mug as a token of my appreciation.) In this day and age, going to live far away from a person doesn't have to mean goodbye, but instead, see you later. (One of my favorite cheesy lines.. Also see: HAGS, LYLAS, BFF)
On June 5, 2014, I did the ceremonious "ringing of the best." It is when a PCV, after doing their final medical reviews, submitting their official description of service, completing their exit interviews with bosses, and obtaining clearance signatures, triumphantly rings a bell in the middle of the PC office to symbolize the completion of their service. To prepare for this, I left my site on June 4 on the 6:30 am bus, which was of course, packed well beyond capacity. Thankfully, after two years, I had established a friendship with the bus crew, and was able to get 3 seats reserved for my mother, my visiting friend Frances, and myself. Our luggage was delicately thrown above, and we were squeezed inside. Even with seats, the strong smell of humans packed in a small space like cattle was palpable, and I was pleased by the fact that this was to be my final San Fernando-Managua bus ride, as was Frances. My mother seemed to have found her zen. When I glanced over 2.5 hours in on the 5 hour bus ride, she seemed to be unfazed by the puking babies in the seats in front and behind her. I was so proud of her. Wednesday afternoon was my final medical interview, and medics were very proud of me for having serviced my service without having contracted dengue, scabies, and only a few cases of stomach amoebas or parasites. In my two years, I´d only had a skin fungus, one ant bite to the eardrum, and no major medical emergencies. Heck, I was a golden volunteer! Since PC is funded by the US government, there weresome bureaucracies to address, so it was nice having Wednesday to finish beaucratic obligations, such as verifying that I have no outstanding debts, saying that I would only fly American Airlines, and yadda yadda. So, when Thursday morning rolled around, I was ready! I turned in my cell phone chip to Eynard, PC Nicaragua's techie, and I ran to the stairwell where the bell hangs. I gave a big shout, grabbed the bell, and clanged away. All PC staff and volunteers in the office rang outside to clap and congratulate me, it was a very special moment. This was it The end of an era. I had been preparing for this for a very long time, and at last the moment came. After over two and a half years of living in Nicaragua, I had successfully completed service as a Peace Corps Volunteer, and now I was done. Was I sad? I suppose a little, as it is always a little bit sad to end an era of your life that has been good to you, but more so than sad, I was excited and ready to begin the next era. My time in Peace Corps has allowed me to form unforgettable relationships with natives and other US citizens, prepared me for the next phase of my life, allowed me to grow up, and taught me invaluable life lessons that I will forever cherish.
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| Sideways picture of me ringing the bell |
Note: Next posts will be from various countries, as I travel Latin America for a month before heading stateside!
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