I felt a huge shift upon returning home from the Genocide Memorial. It was the realization that this, whatever this is, is over! In 5 short weeks, my reality, my life, my friends, my language, my jokes will be nothing more than photos, fading memories and bottled up stories no one wants to hear. That realization has resulted in a huge attitude shift for me and not one I'm proud of. Most people would say, "Oh 5 weeks! I'm treasuring it, taking advantage of every opportunity and soaking it all up before returning!"
But I'm not most people. I'm sad. I'm angry. I'm disappointed in things I see I could have, but didn't do. I look at that "Peace Corps Bucket List" that remains unfinished and I'm filled with rage and can't say exactly why. This experience has been everything I could have imagined. I have made more memories and have grown more in the past 2 years than I felt was possible. I have had a glorious time, there is no doubt about it. But I'm deep in mourning at the moment and am quite defensive for no real reason.
This is a mourning that not even handsome Mr. Brandt could have pulled me out of. Scott came to Armenia and stayed for two weeks just when I needed that boost the most. I know so much more about the country this time around and know so many more neat places so it was almost a completely different trip than when he came last time.We spent most of our time just enjoying each other's company but we did manage to make it up to Noyemberyan and two other places in Armenia I hadn't made it to yet.
As the feminist in me screams in terror that I'd rather return to my home town and get married, I have to rationalize those thoughts. "Well this country isn't that great. I want to leave it. They clap weird and they don't have seafood." That makes me feel better, so I keep going, "They also don't have the same values I do, they don't understand me, none of this really matters, made up fault, other made up fault, even worse fault...." Then a stranger walks in your house and says, "Huh, you look fat today." (True story!) See how I've spiraled? |
This is so much more painful than leaving America. In America my goodbyes were variants of "See you in two years! Have fun!" Here they are already sounding like, "Good luck, have a good life." I don't know when/if I'll be back. I don't know if I'll remember enough Armenian in a few years to remain in touch with my current friends. I don't know if I'll be able to set aside my wanderlust to continue returning to the same place. And that's really scary.
Basically, I'm going to spend the next 5 weeks discovering a proper middle ground between my past, present and future. I've always struggled with enjoying the present moment without letting the future overtake it but now is the perfect time to learn!