Real Talk: 6 Months On
This week is Peace Corps week, and is also the week after I have finally gotten in touch with the Returned Peace Corps Volunteer (RPCV) community here in the Triangle, NC (where I am now living and working). My social media is littered with beautiful posts from current PCVs and RPCVs alike, cherishing memories and moments — the kind of amazing perspectives and realizations that happen from experiences like the Peace Corps.
I feel the need to share a different perspective.
I still shudder at the thought of looking back. I’ve spent 6 months now blocking it out of my memory, summarizing my experience as needed and processing tiny portions of it as I settle back into life in the states.
I had the classic RPCV moments — you walk into a smoothie shop and stare at the menu for 10 minutes while the girl at the register looks at you quizzically — “is this chick okay?” — and you’re just thinking, “who knew you could do all this with fruit and a bit of protein powder? I just wanted like strawberries, banana, and yogurt…”
I had the classic conversations too: “I’m sure I’ll be realizing the impact for years to come…I learned things I can’t even identify yet…Was it worth it? I think so…Would I do the same again? Probably.”
But I still can’t look back at old photos. Especially not ones with people in them. I get WhatsApp and Facebook messages that I open but can’t bring myself to read — let alone respond to. My immediate thought every time is, “nope, not going to deal with this again. Can’t handle that yet.”
And so I’m realizing that, wow, my experience really messed with me. That, wow I was pretty unhappy. That, wow, I’m so glad to be back.
Nothing and no one is to blame for this, except maybe myself — and I mean that sincerely. I’m so grateful for every experience I’ve had abroad, and I am still humbled and in awe of some of the things I have seen and done, and, more importantly, the people I’ve met, while living and working in different countries. Even now there is no doubt in my mind that the most formative experiences of my life happened in Brazil during my Global Citizen Year and Rwanda during my Peace Corps Service.
But I want to share a public message to anyone having trouble during or after an experience like this: if you are hurting, you are not alone. If you don’t know how to process your experience, or face the past, or merge the past into the present, you are not alone. I’ve done it twice now, and assumed that it wouldn’t even be an problem the second time. It still is. It’s a little easier, but it’s still a problem.
At least two thirds of my 26-month service was me coming to terms with the fact that just because you might respect a culture, doesn’t mean you will ever fit into it or feel a part of it. I was always going to be an outsider in Mushaka — another Peace Corps Volunteer passing through.
More than that, I had to come to terms with the fact that, no matter how much I wanted to serve, maybe I didn’t actually LIKE where I was living. This had never crossed my mind before — my curiosity had always given me ample fascination, and I assumed that respecting a culture equaled liking it.
Not so — the longer I was in Rwanda the more I realized that the way I received and internalized people’s reaction to me as a foreigner felt like harassment. It wasn’t intended as such, but no matter where I went, there were stares, and questions, and shouts — and little by little these wore me down to feeling trapped and lonely in the most densely populated country in Africa.
When I finished my service, it was like a weight lifted from my shoulders, the shields came down, and I got to wrap myself in a velvety cloak of anonymity that I am still savoring. I’m not ready to look back, though there are plenty of people in Rwanda that I genuinely love and am inspired by.
To those who are looking back this week, thank you. You are doing what I cannot, and you inspired me to write this — to realize and articulate that I am only just ready to look forward with Peace Corps through RPCV networks and community involvement here in the US. To finally start processing some of my many, many feelings about my service.
To those who are not ready yet…I feel ya. Take heart. We’ll get there.
