The People You're With

I have officially been at site for two weeks. Before we packed our bags, our trainers in Don Chedi told us "you'll have so much down time when you get to site. It's bid term there so you can kick back and relax a bit!" I think they were right, if you exclude the two day exam conference, graduation ceremony, staff dinner parties which you're given thirty minutes prior notice for and told to "go shower!" and the usual demand to play "hospital" with my crazy (but perfect) little host sisters.

All joking aside, having a jam packed schedule has been essential for my integration here. I can feel my counterparts and I getting more comfortable with each other (last night she said "I'm gonna miss you when you leave" and I told her she literally has two years before she has to worry about that). My host family cracks jokes with me more, the students who play volleyball ask me to join, even the stray dogs know I'm probably gonna give them a snack.

But as soon as there's the possibility of down time, just the slightest opportunity of privacy, I high tail it out of there. Any Peace Corps volunteer will tell you that solitude is a rare treasure, and you should make the most of it when you can. And at first, I was doing that. I'd take a half hour nap, call my mom to say hi, and plan the things I needed to get done for tomorrow.

Somewhere in the process though, scrolling through emails became scrolling through Facebook posts, one video clip became 300, one second it was 6:30 AM, the next minute it's 9:30 AM. I'd know my host mom was going to call me for breakfast soon, but I'd secretly hope she didn't.

Most of you know I've always been glued to my phone (my grandfather likes to mention so on several occasions), but lately I have really been sucked into the worldwide web's black hole. In the states, it was a just your classic case of millennial disease. Here, though, it goes deeper than that. It feels like my lifeline, where I can text or call my fellow volunteers to see how they're doing, or my family in the states where the changes happening are not necessarily big or small, but consistent. It's a place where I can bury my face into if my staff is eating lunch with me and speaking rapid Thai that I don't understand.

So I sit and stare at the screen, sometimes for hours at a time if I have the chance. The battery drains quickly, but almost as quickly drains my confidence and determination for site. I've become more homesick than I have ever been, which is a scary feeling.

I was cleaning out my backpack last night, and I found a photo that was given to me on my Swearing In day. It was from a Group 129 volunteer, who has since COS'd and is probably back in the states. The picture is of her with four little girls, presumably her students. On the back,in pink pen,  is written simply "Put the phone away and just be with the people you're with." I literally laughed out loud when I re read it last night. I have done the OPPOSITE of her advice and look where it's got me.

I think by answering every text from home or other volunteers at the first possible second has been my way of saying "Yes! I'm here! I'm here! I'm still with you!" But, they already know that, with or without a text. Things are going to change when I'm not there, people will grow, I will miss funerals, weddings, baby deliveries, etc. But here, there is beautiful mountains that turn blue when they're too far away. There are three little girls who want nothing more than to learn everything about everything, and the sound of their giggles could make your heart explode. There are teachers who smile at me when I get to school, and of course, there is coconut ice cream. For these two years, I have what I need.

So, today I went on a bike ride to say hi to the mountains. I left my bedroom door open instead of keeping it shut so the many (and some unidentified) kids could  run in and out. And I am about to eat dinner with my family, and not be in a rush to come back.

Signing off now :)