This morning I got up, read for an hour and then worked out in my room. This is very unlike my normal schedule, but I'm attempting to change some bad habits so I can make the next 2 years the most productive possible. So I worked up quite a sweat listening to Jillian Michaels scream at me and headed over to the shower only to turn it on and find there is no water. There is a slow trickle of bitterly cold water coming out of the hose-like shower head but a squirt of my water bottle had more water pressure. So I sat and fought through the freezing cold water and took a shower.
I bring this up because this is kind of the perfect description of how the past 2 weeks have been. An attempt to do something good, which leads to a completely unnecessary obstacle and a horribly unsatisfactory result. In this case, a cold shower- but if only all things were so simple. As I've noticed with my personal journal that I keep, I never write when things get hard or difficult. I know that is when I should write the most, to accurately remember the struggles but reflecting on such an awful day seems overwhelming. So instead of writing the past two weeks about the tears, homesickness, exclusion, and utter despair, I've written nothing.
I'm sure you think I'm exaggerating and any volunteer in any other part of the world would tell me that I have it easy, and I know that in the back of my mind. This area of the world is often referred to as "Posh Corps." However in the situation, it does little to console me. Of the worst things that have happened in the past two weeks the lowest point was my host sister moving out. She was the only person who I felt that I connected with in the family and it would have been sad enough if I had actually known she was moving out. Just one day she wasn't there... A few days later, the door to her room was open and it was mostly empty. So I asked "Where is Narine??"
"Oh, she moved to Vike."
"When is she coming back?"
"I don't know."
And that's how I found out that I'll never see the one friend I made in country again. Nobody bothered to tell me she was leaving. She never bothered to say goodbye. I leave Karashamb in less than 2 weeks and there is no Marshutni (a bus/van like thing used in public transportation) service here. In October she goes to Russia....So.... that is that. It does not feel good.
So that left a hole in an already difficult week. I'm ready to move to Noyemberyan and really start working. Sitting in class 8 hours a day, 6 days a week is not my thing. I want to be moving, working, and doing real things that show what Peace Corps service is! 10 days....
On that note, my swearing in will be recorded and live streamed online. We're going to be singing, dancing and doing a play (all in Armenian- of course!). The American Ambassador to Armenia will be there and help us take our oath. All in all, its going to be a fun day. If you want the web address to the live stream/recording (since the live stream will take place at 3am CST) let me know!
Not everything has been bad, and I'd be lying if I said I wasn't having a little fun. For example, last night we organized a lady's volleyball night and it was a massive success. We've been playing soccer twice a week as a way to get integrated into the community but we quickly realized that no women showed up. When we asked we were given "good girls do not play football!" So we played volleyball. We had a good 20 people show up and since we didn't have a net, we stood in a circle and practiced serving, bumping and setting the ball to one another. There were several small kids who had never played before so I got to teach them a few things, which was great fun. My host mom was very worried about me when I came home because my arms were so red.
We also went on a volunteer retreat 2 weeks ago. It was 2 days just north of the Iranian border in the desert relaxing and getting to know each other and doing a lot of drinking. The drinking did prove to be a problem for several reasons. 1. Americans binge drink. Its one of the stupid things about the under 30 crowd (as most PCVs are). 2. Russian vodka and American vodka are VERY different but taste the same.(There is mostly just vodka here.) 3. They don't do mixers in Armenia, which resulted in people just having to drink the vodka straight. Naturally, this combination resulted in a literal mess and more than 1 very serious situation.
BUT again, it wasn't all bad. I got the opportunity to know several more volunteers on a totally different level. I'll bring up 2 in particular. The first's name is Jim, an Irish immigrant who has lived in San Diego for the past 30 years and was an architect in his former life. (former life=time before peace corps). He left a wife at home, as so many others did to explore their dream. I was sitting on a swing in the courtyard reading and I watched Jim go up to a group at the bar. He sat down and the rest of the group got up and walked away from him. I've been that person so I walked over and sat with him. He naturally looked discouraged. I asked him if he was ok and he said that he was doing fantastic. Since it was an odd response to what I had just seen I asked him to elaborate and he proceeded to tell me about his future plans to stay in Armenia forever and get an apartment near republic square in Yerevan. I asked about his wife and if she was going to live here. He took a deep breath and said, "No. We haven't been getting a long for some time and I called her last night and told her that this was it. She wasn't kind, and was rather abusive, and while I didn't realize it at the time, Armenia and the Peace Corps has been my redeemer and my saving grace. I'm free here and finally happy."Later in the conversation I asked him what his favorite thing about Armenia was and he said "Nobody calls me stupid or worthless here."
This absolutely broke my heart but opened my eyes. Everyone here is going through their own troubles both here, at home and inside themselves. I had this image of a "Peace Corps Volunteer" and so far all I've learned is that it was an insane expectation. We aren't perfect but instead are all incredibly flawed people trying to better themselves. It brings out the worst in some people and the best in others. I don't know where I lay on that scale yet, but I hope I someday have the courage to be more like Jim who has in two short months regained his life.
The second is Ben. Ben is 38 and was a PCV in Bulgaria in the 90s. Now he's back doing it all over again in Armenia. On a particularly low night at the retreat, I stepped outside on the porch of our cabin and just cried. I cried for everything I had given up and all the growing pains I was going through and not feeling like a part of the group. On more than one occasion I have felt invisible to the Americans, a stark contrast to being stared and gawked at by all the Armenians which also doesn't feel great. As I was crying, a group of 20+ volunteers came out of the building and literally stepped around me on their way to the bar, which just made everything worse. Every single one of them looked at me but nobody cared enough to deviate from their bar hopping to ask what was going on. A few moments later Ben walked up on his way back from the bathrooms and immediately broke in a run to get to me and console me. I didn't say much, but instead just let myself let lose and bawl. After I was able to compose myself, we talked outside for hours about my loneliness and homesickness. He offered useful tips that he learned in Bulgaria since he had several of the same problems. Sometimes all you need is to be told that you are not invisible.
Not many monumental things happened the past few weeks, but I think I grew more as an individual than I ever have in a shorter amount of time and learned valuable lessons that I can use every day for the rest of my life. Every time I think I've had all I can take, something else happens that pushes me farther. While is sucks beyond all measure of just about anything and hurts so so bad, at the end of the night I can think to myself "well, I got through." That is exactly why I'm here. I've realized that my image of the "Peace Corps Volunteer" is at the end, when they're COSing or are back at home. To get to be that awesome image I've got to go through all the crap. Things are brought up every day that bring up painful memories, or insecurities or that gnaw at my heart strings but as one friend so brilliantly put it:
Diamonds start as coal. It's messy, yucky and dirty but only under extreme pressure can they turn into diamonds.
And as another friend put it, "Your 2 year service hasn't even started yet!" I'm nervous at what other discouraging things are going to come up but also so excited to see the end result.
I bring this up because this is kind of the perfect description of how the past 2 weeks have been. An attempt to do something good, which leads to a completely unnecessary obstacle and a horribly unsatisfactory result. In this case, a cold shower- but if only all things were so simple. As I've noticed with my personal journal that I keep, I never write when things get hard or difficult. I know that is when I should write the most, to accurately remember the struggles but reflecting on such an awful day seems overwhelming. So instead of writing the past two weeks about the tears, homesickness, exclusion, and utter despair, I've written nothing.
I'm sure you think I'm exaggerating and any volunteer in any other part of the world would tell me that I have it easy, and I know that in the back of my mind. This area of the world is often referred to as "Posh Corps." However in the situation, it does little to console me. Of the worst things that have happened in the past two weeks the lowest point was my host sister moving out. She was the only person who I felt that I connected with in the family and it would have been sad enough if I had actually known she was moving out. Just one day she wasn't there... A few days later, the door to her room was open and it was mostly empty. So I asked "Where is Narine??"
"Oh, she moved to Vike."
"When is she coming back?"
"I don't know."
And that's how I found out that I'll never see the one friend I made in country again. Nobody bothered to tell me she was leaving. She never bothered to say goodbye. I leave Karashamb in less than 2 weeks and there is no Marshutni (a bus/van like thing used in public transportation) service here. In October she goes to Russia....So.... that is that. It does not feel good.
So that left a hole in an already difficult week. I'm ready to move to Noyemberyan and really start working. Sitting in class 8 hours a day, 6 days a week is not my thing. I want to be moving, working, and doing real things that show what Peace Corps service is! 10 days....
On that note, my swearing in will be recorded and live streamed online. We're going to be singing, dancing and doing a play (all in Armenian- of course!). The American Ambassador to Armenia will be there and help us take our oath. All in all, its going to be a fun day. If you want the web address to the live stream/recording (since the live stream will take place at 3am CST) let me know!
Not everything has been bad, and I'd be lying if I said I wasn't having a little fun. For example, last night we organized a lady's volleyball night and it was a massive success. We've been playing soccer twice a week as a way to get integrated into the community but we quickly realized that no women showed up. When we asked we were given "good girls do not play football!" So we played volleyball. We had a good 20 people show up and since we didn't have a net, we stood in a circle and practiced serving, bumping and setting the ball to one another. There were several small kids who had never played before so I got to teach them a few things, which was great fun. My host mom was very worried about me when I came home because my arms were so red.
We also went on a volunteer retreat 2 weeks ago. It was 2 days just north of the Iranian border in the desert relaxing and getting to know each other and doing a lot of drinking. The drinking did prove to be a problem for several reasons. 1. Americans binge drink. Its one of the stupid things about the under 30 crowd (as most PCVs are). 2. Russian vodka and American vodka are VERY different but taste the same.(There is mostly just vodka here.) 3. They don't do mixers in Armenia, which resulted in people just having to drink the vodka straight. Naturally, this combination resulted in a literal mess and more than 1 very serious situation.
BUT again, it wasn't all bad. I got the opportunity to know several more volunteers on a totally different level. I'll bring up 2 in particular. The first's name is Jim, an Irish immigrant who has lived in San Diego for the past 30 years and was an architect in his former life. (former life=time before peace corps). He left a wife at home, as so many others did to explore their dream. I was sitting on a swing in the courtyard reading and I watched Jim go up to a group at the bar. He sat down and the rest of the group got up and walked away from him. I've been that person so I walked over and sat with him. He naturally looked discouraged. I asked him if he was ok and he said that he was doing fantastic. Since it was an odd response to what I had just seen I asked him to elaborate and he proceeded to tell me about his future plans to stay in Armenia forever and get an apartment near republic square in Yerevan. I asked about his wife and if she was going to live here. He took a deep breath and said, "No. We haven't been getting a long for some time and I called her last night and told her that this was it. She wasn't kind, and was rather abusive, and while I didn't realize it at the time, Armenia and the Peace Corps has been my redeemer and my saving grace. I'm free here and finally happy."Later in the conversation I asked him what his favorite thing about Armenia was and he said "Nobody calls me stupid or worthless here."
This absolutely broke my heart but opened my eyes. Everyone here is going through their own troubles both here, at home and inside themselves. I had this image of a "Peace Corps Volunteer" and so far all I've learned is that it was an insane expectation. We aren't perfect but instead are all incredibly flawed people trying to better themselves. It brings out the worst in some people and the best in others. I don't know where I lay on that scale yet, but I hope I someday have the courage to be more like Jim who has in two short months regained his life.
The second is Ben. Ben is 38 and was a PCV in Bulgaria in the 90s. Now he's back doing it all over again in Armenia. On a particularly low night at the retreat, I stepped outside on the porch of our cabin and just cried. I cried for everything I had given up and all the growing pains I was going through and not feeling like a part of the group. On more than one occasion I have felt invisible to the Americans, a stark contrast to being stared and gawked at by all the Armenians which also doesn't feel great. As I was crying, a group of 20+ volunteers came out of the building and literally stepped around me on their way to the bar, which just made everything worse. Every single one of them looked at me but nobody cared enough to deviate from their bar hopping to ask what was going on. A few moments later Ben walked up on his way back from the bathrooms and immediately broke in a run to get to me and console me. I didn't say much, but instead just let myself let lose and bawl. After I was able to compose myself, we talked outside for hours about my loneliness and homesickness. He offered useful tips that he learned in Bulgaria since he had several of the same problems. Sometimes all you need is to be told that you are not invisible.
Not many monumental things happened the past few weeks, but I think I grew more as an individual than I ever have in a shorter amount of time and learned valuable lessons that I can use every day for the rest of my life. Every time I think I've had all I can take, something else happens that pushes me farther. While is sucks beyond all measure of just about anything and hurts so so bad, at the end of the night I can think to myself "well, I got through." That is exactly why I'm here. I've realized that my image of the "Peace Corps Volunteer" is at the end, when they're COSing or are back at home. To get to be that awesome image I've got to go through all the crap. Things are brought up every day that bring up painful memories, or insecurities or that gnaw at my heart strings but as one friend so brilliantly put it:
Diamonds start as coal. It's messy, yucky and dirty but only under extreme pressure can they turn into diamonds.
And as another friend put it, "Your 2 year service hasn't even started yet!" I'm nervous at what other discouraging things are going to come up but also so excited to see the end result.