(Continuing with my
theme of titling blog posts with lyrics from songs that I’ve been listening to
a lot. This is a lyric from “You’re Not Alone” by Mavis Staples, which a great
friend of mine shared with me when I was feeling homesick at the end of
training. It’s a good reminder that when you’re having a hard time, there are
others out there who are maybe experiencing the same thing, and can offer
support. It’s a song- and an idea- that I relied upon a lot during my first
week at site.)
I’ve now been at site for just under 2 weeks, and although
there’s so much I want to talk about in regards to life here, I first wanted to
finish a blog post I’d started about the end of pre-service training.
On May 4th, 2012, myself and the other 28
trainees were sworn in by John Reddy, the director of Peace Corps Madagascar,
and officially became volunteers! As I sat there under the tent, dressed up for
the first time in 2 months, it was hard to believe that 9 weeks of training had
passed by, and suddenly everything was becoming real: I am no longer in
training to become a Peace Corps volunteer, I really am a volunteer now, and I was soon to be set forth on my own to
figure out life at my site, a multi-day journey away from the area I’d called
home for two months. The last couple days of training were a blur of packing,
partying, and preparation for our moves to site. On Saturday May 5th,
the sleep-deprived lot of us said tearful goodbyes and packed off into cars,
with each car headed to different regions of the country (and some going to the
airport, for those volunteers living in the far reaches of Madagascar). My car
headed first to Fianarantsoa for the night, then went east and continued down
the southern coast to Farafangana, where myself and the other 2 volunteers in
my region were welcomed heartily by 6 volunteers currently living in the area.
The drive to Fara from Fianar was beautiful, with the landscape unfurling
itself and transforming before my eyes: from the mountainous highlands to the
palm- and banana-tree dotted landscape of the south. With the change in
vegetation and increase in temperature, it almost felt like I was entering a
different country. But whereas the highlands area of Madagascar sometimes
doesn’t actually feel like Mada (or Africa at all), there’s no mistaking that
you’re on a tropical island when you’re in the Sud Est. As we neared closer to Farafangana, I
began to feel a sense of fear and anxiety about the fact that I was leaving so
many friends whom I’d become so very close to during the last month of
training—how could I bear to eat dinner without their company, let alone live a
2-day taxi brousse ride away? But our boisterous welcome by the group of
current Sud Est volunteers helped allay some of my fears, and although I miss my
friends terribly every day, it’s a source of great comfort knowing that I have
a Sud Est family here. So thank
you, Maria, Abe, James, Paul, Erika, and Yu Sun, for making us feel at home.
As I neared the end of my time at the Peace Corps training
center (which we’d moved back to after 4 weeks at homestay and a 1 week
technical trip), I tried to remember what it felt like arriving at the PCTC my
first night in country and the foreignness I felt. It was difficult to transport
myself back to that feeling, since those once unfamiliar corners were so very
home-like at the end. My comfort level at being in-country went up
substantially, and so did my language skills. When speaking with the other
trainees, we couldn’t seem to talk in English without peppering it with
Malagasy. Now, it’s hard to imagine a vocabulary that doesn’t include mahay, misy/tsy misy, tsy mety, betsaka,
or misaotra betsaka (“’saot’ bets’”).
I had read advice tidbits from a lot of current and former
volunteers before coming here, and one thing that echoed across all countries
of service is that Peace Corps is a rollercoaster, where you’ll experience the
highest highs and lowest lows. Thinking about this, I’d say my my lowest point
during training was the moment during our tech trip, eating breakfast in
Antsirabe, when our outdoor table was surrounded by sickly beggar children
asking for food. When a piece of cheese fell from my sandwich onto the ground,
and a boy lunged for it and put it in his mouth, I crumbled inside out of
powerlessness and heartbreak. And possibly my highest moment was a day during
the end of pre-service training when I went running through Mantasoa with two
friends, exploring the beautiful river as it wound its way through the woods
and towards the dam that created Lake Mantasoa. I remember running along the
river, through the rice fields and basking in sunlight, and being awestruck
that I was running, in Madagascar, on the most beautiful day I could remember.
Of course, the rollercoaster can sometimes happen within one day, which is
something I wasn’t expecting. The day before our final language exam I was at a
low point, stressed out over studying and anxious about my abilities. But then
a package arrived from two of my best friends back home, full of candy and
magazines, and my heart leapt with gratitude from the magnitude of their
gesture. Overcome with emotion, tears of happiness and relief sprang forth from
my eyes.
I haven’t been experiencing too much homesickness, although a
toothbrush bearing my dentist’s name and a 212 phone number has become a
talisman of my former life in NYC that I can’t bear to throw away. There have
been a few small Proustian moments when I am whiplashed into thinking of home,
such as when the maintenance crew mowed the lawn at the PCTC, and with that distinctive
scent in the air, all I could think of was summer in Vermont. Sometimes an
olfactory memory will pop up unexpectedly in my head—eggs for breakfast at
Shelburne Farms, the scent of the creamy grass fed yolk meeting the air, the
slightly sour scent of O-Bread toast. And when refrigeration is barely
existent, I long for a glass of clinking ice cubes, or just one scoop of ice
cream. How bizarre to think that when I lived with my parents pre-Peace Corps, ice
cream was a daily foodstuff for me, not the true luxury it is. The things I
long for now are all things I took for granted back home, and perhaps that
magnifies the pang of their absence.
Physically, I look slightly different after nearly 3 months
in country: I lost 20 lbs during
homestay and tech trip (and then gained 10 of them back after a month of being
spoiled at the PCTC, then lost 5 of them again after moving to site). I have
substantially more freckles now, all over my hands and arms and face, even
though I am religious about sunblock. My hair is bleached from the sun and the
bottom half of it has taken on a reddish color all its own. And, I have a
Z-shaped tan line on both feet from my Chacos (the unofficial footwear of Peace
Corps volunteers). I’ve postered the walls of my house with pictures from back
home, and how funny it is now to look at pictures of myself in New York,
dressed up and wearing high heels and makeup as an everyday occurence.
Sometimes I long to return to it, but for now, that era of my life is on hold.
More to come soon (I hope) on life at site… internet access
is incredibly slow when I do finally get on it, so once again, I apologize for
being out of touch on email.
