I Don't Want To Spoil The Party, So I'll Go

Plato Tipico (A Haiku)
Scrambled eggs and beans.
I'd argue any day it's
better than gourmet.

If Peace Corps has taught me nothing else, it has certainly given me the chance to experience the true meaning of the expression "just like that". Just like that, your bus is caught in traffic due to a public demonstration. Just like that, the northern region of Guatemala is under a state of siege. Just like that, after months of no luck, you find yourself a house. And, just like that, your world gets turned upside down.

The latter of these "just like that" moments came last week, when we received an email from administration notifying us that, due to growing safety and security concerns, certain regions (including the Oriente) would be evacuated, and any volunteers placed in those areas would be given a site relocation or the option of early Close of Service. All of a sudden, every single plan I had for my life in the next year was suspended. I thought I had a year left in my dear little pueblo, a year left to work with the Women's Office, a year left to work on my degree project, a year left to prepare for my return to the states. It was a complete shock.

I am not someone who likes to quit (really, who is?). And, despite my family's best efforts to convince me otherwise and the complete support of my fellow PCV's, I do still feel that by choosing an early COS I am sort of quitting. But I also cannot imagine moving across the country to start all over again, and I don't feel like I could be a very productive volunteer with just seven months in a site. So, even though it is completely unexpected, I've chosen to finish my service where I started it, in San Juan Ermita, and come home to the states.

It's a disappointing ending, but I won't let it overshadow all of the amazing experiences I was lucky enough to have. How many people can say they have set a baby turtle free into the ocean, taken a group of women on their first trip outside their small rural village, learned to "tortillar" and make tamales, co-habitated with bats, tarantulas, and all sorts of other creepy crawlies, and spent so many hours on chicken busses with strange babies on their lap that they don't even think twice about it anymore?

So, what does this all mean? Well, the short answer is: I have no idea. First, I'll spend the next week wrapping up here. Packing, saying goodbyes, doing paperwork. I should be home in Seattle in just a couple weeks. After that... well, there's not really room in my head to think about that yet. Whatever happens, though, I will always be extremely grateful for this incredible time in my life, and will most certainly carry it with me into whatever the future holds.