Cycle of Vulnerability

Whelp, I just hugged and said goodbye to my other half for the next 5-6 months and I’ve never felt more like a puddle of tears.

I was lucky enough to have Max visit me during lockdown. We weren’t able to travel or do anything exciting but we huddled down in my little village of Kang and soaked in each others’ presence for two very short weeks. Having him here was like a breath of fresh normalness. I’d nearly forgotten how natural and happy I feel with the man I love and how un-frustrating it is to be in the same room in the same house in the same country on the same continent without struggling with poor skype connections and outrageous international calling rates. After three years of never truly living in the same city and playing travel tag with Peace Corps (first him in Fiji, now me in Botswana) you’d think we’d be long-distance pros but that nail-to-the-heart being drowned in ice water feeling of saying our temporary goodbyes never disappears.

Having him here reminds me of all I left behind to follow this Peace Corps dream. I left behind a boyfriend who loves me more than I ever thought possible, my father in the fight of his life against cancer, other family and friends who are going through big and exciting changes that I can’t be a part of, along with the stability to build a future. Before coming here my heart, soul, and mind were itching for adventure. I wanted to become lost in a new culture and language; to explore not only a distant land but to discover how far I could push and challenge myself. I wanted to develop professional skills in an untypical environment. I wanted to expand my world view by living and working in a community rather than just traveling through for the big-ticket sites and world wonders.

I try to put a positive spin on most things and understand that I’ve only been in Botswana for 5 months, not much has happened yet. I’m thankful for being here and for all the wonderful people I have met along the way, but everyone and everything back home is starting to weigh heavier on my mind than my desire to wait it out and see if things start rolling here in Bots.  A lot of these feelings have to do with the lows of being away from home during the holidays, just saying goodbye to my boyfriend, and a little graph Peace Corps likes to call the “Cycle of Vulnerability and Adjustment.” So as I’m writing this post and eating the left-over Christmas cookies I had sent from home and stored in the freezer I’ll admit that I’m really starting to feel the “hard” part in the “hardest job you’ll ever love.”

So now that I’ve made you, my reader, family member, friend, whoever you are feel a little down and also gave you a craving for cookies, I’ll let you know that I’m not giving up yet. It may just be my stubbornness or my unrealistic desire for Peace Corps to some how pop me out of Botswana as a well-traveled, sunburned, ululating, confident, has-it-all-together individual but I’m not ready to throw that towel in. I recognize that my Peace Corps service may not be two years. Of course, everyone who becomes a Peace Corps volunteer intends to complete the full two years of service but I acknowledge that there are too many alterior factors, ie life, that may cut that service short.

For now I am going to focus on the little accomplishments until the big can fall into place. I can bumble through Setswana enough that locals continue to speak it to me long after my point of understanding, I’ve made friends in my community, and I’ve learned to enjoy bucket baths. There is never any “good” in goodbye but I’m thankful to have a guy who is by my side, even 8,000 miles away, while I figure this all out. Here’s to 2015, whatever it may bring.