It’s really a pretty bitter sweet feeling standing here on the edge of everything that’s about to happen. The bags are packed and the hard good-byes are done with. There are only eight days and 7,000 miles between me and Kyrgyzstan. As you might imagine, there’s a lot going on in my head – and it’s a mess.
There’s a lot of relief. I am tired of fighting to become a Peace Corps Volunteer. I realize it’s not exactly astronaut training I’m undertaking here, but I’ve been expecting something to go wrong at any second that will bring all my plans crashing down for months. It’s exhausting. Maybe it’s presumptuous, but it’s about time. I’ve worked for this.
There’s some excitement, sure, but I think it’s much closer to anticipation. I’m ready and that energy I was using to try to bring all this together can now be directed toward what’s coming next. I’m poised and ready to dodge whatever might come my way even though I don’t really I know what that might be.
And, to be honest, there’s a lot to be sad about. Like I said in my last post, there’s a lot being left behind, like the all important Folger’s coffee, but also the people I care about, the places I know, and the possible paths being abandoned. Whenever we go left, we lose everything that might have been had we gone right. And I realize that that’s a fact of every day life and not particularly profound, but somehow the sense of it is more acute just now.
In spite of all that though, the most dominant feeling is determination. There is no doubt in my mind that this is the right thing. There will be crappy days – probably mostly crappy days – to begin with, but so what? Ever since I was a little kid I was going to be a Peace Corps Volunteer and damn if it’s not going to happen.
I think Cuzco said it best:
The next post will be coming from Kyrgyzstan and the name of this blog will finally make sense.