On March 23, 2013, I made my return to the United States after completing my service as a Peace Corps Volunteer in Uganda. Waiting for my bags, I put on my headphones and jammed out our unofficial Close of Service anthem, "Coming Home"by P. Diddy (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k-ImCpNqbJw). As I walked through arrivals at LAX, I poorly negotiated the turns of the pathway with all my bags piled onto a cart and almost overturned it when I saw Nathan waiting for me. Within that moment, our two year long distance relationship magically transformed into just a relationship. We didn't say anything- we just held each other tight. A woman leaned over and said, "Oh wow, you kids don't know each other." Mortified, I pulled away from Nathan and looked around. A young family walked by with their child tethered by a leash. Jeez, welcome home?
Adjusting back to American life was no easy feat, and I sometimes think I'm still adjusting. I openly stare at people, and sometimes say things too loud- thinking no one can understand my fast English. I still scoff at Instagram and Pinterest. Don't even get me started on Snapchat or Tinder. I'm trying to find a healthy relationship with food, constantly reminding myself that the frozen yogurt shop will still be there tomorrow, and I have a refrigerator for leftovers.
When I first arrived in Uganda, it was severe culture shock. Everything was so new, but I just tried to roll with the punches. I was patient and flexible- the model Peace Corps volunteer. But when I came home, the reverse culture shock was just that- shocking. It was beyond shocking; it was almost painful. I'm America, born and raised! Why do I find it so difficult to relate to everyone here? Why don't I understand the jokes that everyone laughs at? Why the hell is everyone on their smart phones?! I felt like a stranger in a very familiar place. I was "home," but in many ways, I had to find my home again.
When people find out that I'm recently back from Peace Corps, they enviably ask, "So, how was it?" This is by far the worst question to ask- there's no real way to answer it concisely. I usually just shrug my shoulders and say, "It was good." Peace Corps isn't some two week vacation that you can sum up in a sentence or two. It would take me hours, maybe days to really tell you how it was. Maybe that's why so many volunteers end up writing books! But what I think most people are truly wondering, "Are you happy you did it?" That one I can answer.
Yes, I'm happy that I did Peace Corps. For years, I had planned on Peace Corps. If I hadn't done it, I woud have always wondered what it would have been like and really regretted it. I learned a lot, had crazy adventures, made friends and finally lived in another country. In my two years, I explored and experienced all kinds of avenues for my future: international development, education, business, foreign affairs. One night, as I sat on the cement floor of my house scanning an HIV reference book in hopes to answer a teacher's question, Nathan asked me to come back to bed. "Wait, wait, I'm almost finished." As he patiently waited and listened to me rattle on about HIV, he said, "You know Chelsea, I don't understand why you're not going into medicine. You're so passionate about it. I've never seen you like this about anything else." One year after his inspiring comment, I am enrolled in general chemistry to start knocking out my premed classes. With my post baccalaureate program at Scripps College, I will be able to take all my classes in a year, and hopefully be in medical school by 2015. Without Peace Corps, I would have never discovered my passion for women's health, and I doubt I would have had the courage to start the long road to an MD.
That being said, Peace Corps is by far the hardest thing I have ever done. Peace Corps knows this, or they wouldn't have a recruiting campaign with the tagline: "The hardest job you'll ever love." Peace Corps is a lot like running a marathon- it tests your endurance. A better analogy would be a marathon in San Francisco- there's a lot of ups and downs. I had a lot of good days, but I also had a lot of really bad days. Everything was initially challenging: fetching water, learning the language, trying to figure out what projects I should tackle, battling the loneliness and committing cultural faux pas. Eventually, those became second nature.
After two years of total immersion in Uganda culture, just about everything became "normal." Well, almost everything. If you haven't already noticed, I refused to accept the status and treatment of women in the Ugandan culture. In Uganda's patriarchal society, women are not treated as equal in nearly every aspect of life. Boys tend to receive more education, particularly quality education at private school, whereas many girls drop out due to lack of school fees, menstruation or pregnancy. Girls and women perform nearly all of the demanding household chores and duties. Although some women have jobs, they are forced to forfeit their salary to their husband's control. The list goes on. As a college educated woman, I was beyond frustrated with most of the men I worked with. Frequently, I was enraged by the way men were treating me or my female counterparts. It's no surprise that by the end of my first year, all of my projects focused on female education and empowerment. I'm happy I was able to redirect some of my frustration and resentment towards Ugandan men into positive projects like Camp GLOW and RUMPS, but I still struggled daily with my status as a woman in my village. For that reason and many others, I'm thrilled to be back home.
For my dedicated readers, you should be proud of my younger brother- he kept his word and his mustache. For those of you who don't know, when I left for Peace Corps, my younger brother bravely offered to support me by maintaining a mustache for the entirety of my service. For some men, this would be no small feat. But for my 21 year-old brother, he was struggling to grow noticeable facial hair due to his blonde locks. As my Close of Service date approached, I heard from Grant more and more often. "When are you coming home?!" The real question he wanted to ask: "When can I shave my mustache?!"
Adjusting back to American life was no easy feat, and I sometimes think I'm still adjusting. I openly stare at people, and sometimes say things too loud- thinking no one can understand my fast English. I still scoff at Instagram and Pinterest. Don't even get me started on Snapchat or Tinder. I'm trying to find a healthy relationship with food, constantly reminding myself that the frozen yogurt shop will still be there tomorrow, and I have a refrigerator for leftovers.
When I first arrived in Uganda, it was severe culture shock. Everything was so new, but I just tried to roll with the punches. I was patient and flexible- the model Peace Corps volunteer. But when I came home, the reverse culture shock was just that- shocking. It was beyond shocking; it was almost painful. I'm America, born and raised! Why do I find it so difficult to relate to everyone here? Why don't I understand the jokes that everyone laughs at? Why the hell is everyone on their smart phones?! I felt like a stranger in a very familiar place. I was "home," but in many ways, I had to find my home again.
When people find out that I'm recently back from Peace Corps, they enviably ask, "So, how was it?" This is by far the worst question to ask- there's no real way to answer it concisely. I usually just shrug my shoulders and say, "It was good." Peace Corps isn't some two week vacation that you can sum up in a sentence or two. It would take me hours, maybe days to really tell you how it was. Maybe that's why so many volunteers end up writing books! But what I think most people are truly wondering, "Are you happy you did it?" That one I can answer.
Yes, I'm happy that I did Peace Corps. For years, I had planned on Peace Corps. If I hadn't done it, I woud have always wondered what it would have been like and really regretted it. I learned a lot, had crazy adventures, made friends and finally lived in another country. In my two years, I explored and experienced all kinds of avenues for my future: international development, education, business, foreign affairs. One night, as I sat on the cement floor of my house scanning an HIV reference book in hopes to answer a teacher's question, Nathan asked me to come back to bed. "Wait, wait, I'm almost finished." As he patiently waited and listened to me rattle on about HIV, he said, "You know Chelsea, I don't understand why you're not going into medicine. You're so passionate about it. I've never seen you like this about anything else." One year after his inspiring comment, I am enrolled in general chemistry to start knocking out my premed classes. With my post baccalaureate program at Scripps College, I will be able to take all my classes in a year, and hopefully be in medical school by 2015. Without Peace Corps, I would have never discovered my passion for women's health, and I doubt I would have had the courage to start the long road to an MD.
That being said, Peace Corps is by far the hardest thing I have ever done. Peace Corps knows this, or they wouldn't have a recruiting campaign with the tagline: "The hardest job you'll ever love." Peace Corps is a lot like running a marathon- it tests your endurance. A better analogy would be a marathon in San Francisco- there's a lot of ups and downs. I had a lot of good days, but I also had a lot of really bad days. Everything was initially challenging: fetching water, learning the language, trying to figure out what projects I should tackle, battling the loneliness and committing cultural faux pas. Eventually, those became second nature.
After two years of total immersion in Uganda culture, just about everything became "normal." Well, almost everything. If you haven't already noticed, I refused to accept the status and treatment of women in the Ugandan culture. In Uganda's patriarchal society, women are not treated as equal in nearly every aspect of life. Boys tend to receive more education, particularly quality education at private school, whereas many girls drop out due to lack of school fees, menstruation or pregnancy. Girls and women perform nearly all of the demanding household chores and duties. Although some women have jobs, they are forced to forfeit their salary to their husband's control. The list goes on. As a college educated woman, I was beyond frustrated with most of the men I worked with. Frequently, I was enraged by the way men were treating me or my female counterparts. It's no surprise that by the end of my first year, all of my projects focused on female education and empowerment. I'm happy I was able to redirect some of my frustration and resentment towards Ugandan men into positive projects like Camp GLOW and RUMPS, but I still struggled daily with my status as a woman in my village. For that reason and many others, I'm thrilled to be back home.
For my dedicated readers, you should be proud of my younger brother- he kept his word and his mustache. For those of you who don't know, when I left for Peace Corps, my younger brother bravely offered to support me by maintaining a mustache for the entirety of my service. For some men, this would be no small feat. But for my 21 year-old brother, he was struggling to grow noticeable facial hair due to his blonde locks. As my Close of Service date approached, I heard from Grant more and more often. "When are you coming home?!" The real question he wanted to ask: "When can I shave my mustache?!"
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| The Uganda Stache in all its glory. |
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| Finally home! |
When I came home, I realized that "my service" really wasn't just my service. In my first few weeks, and even now, Peace Corps comes up in many of my conversations. It's kind of hard to avoid, considering it was the last two years of my life, although I'm sure people are getting really tired of "In Uganda..." The part that surprises me is how enthusiastically the people around me talk about my experience! When I tell my stories, my mom can't help chiming in about village life. Nathan loves to complain about public transport. My service really became a shared experience, which ultimately is the third goal of Peace Corps. I'm so happy I was able to share my service because I couldn't have done it without all the support I got from home. It was a struggle for everyone who loved and cared about me, especially my family and Nathan. Thank you to everyone that helped me along the way, whether it was through phone calls, packages, letters, postcards, emails, Facebook posts, or keeping a mustache.
Thank you to everyone who read my blog, encouraged me to write more, left comments and made me feel like my service was meaningful and important. I never thought my blog would be successful. To my surprise, the task of creating post ideas and writing my experiences helped me process my experience. I was able to share my accomplishments, letdowns and wisdom with my friends, family and even strangers! Ultimately, it forced me to reflect on my service as it was happening, and served as a weekly reminder of what Peace Corps meant to me. Again, thank you for reading my blog and keeping me positive during dark times. Hope you learned something about Uganda and Peace Corps!
Thank you to everyone who read my blog, encouraged me to write more, left comments and made me feel like my service was meaningful and important. I never thought my blog would be successful. To my surprise, the task of creating post ideas and writing my experiences helped me process my experience. I was able to share my accomplishments, letdowns and wisdom with my friends, family and even strangers! Ultimately, it forced me to reflect on my service as it was happening, and served as a weekly reminder of what Peace Corps meant to me. Again, thank you for reading my blog and keeping me positive during dark times. Hope you learned something about Uganda and Peace Corps!
THANK YOU LORD, SHE'S HOME.....
ReplyDeleteLove you more, Mama