Well I have finally arrived. I am back in the USA, officially a Returned Peace Corps Volunteer. I had been dreading and worrying about this time in my life for months now: Will I be able to get a job in this crappy economy? Will I get stuck again doing things that I hate, or just have no money at all? Will I be able to live anywhere other than with my mom or grandma? How will I feel when I have to leave my friends and boyfriend in Panama? Will it be weird to be back? Will anyone even care that I am back or even left? Will people get sick of hearing, "When I was in Panama..."?
But I believe the hardest part is now over. I have said my goodbyes (myriad and drawn out they were). I made all the necessary preparations and turned in the necessary paperwork. I have made all the long travels, all while running on fumes. True, getting a job will not be easy, and unless I am extremely fortunate most likely I will have to settle for something that I don't like at first. But I will start thinking about all that on Monday...
After I had turned in the little scavenger hunt of signatures that they made us find, after I had been medically cleared and met with everyone I needed to talk to, I went back to Ruperta's for one last night with the family in Santa Clara and carefully repacking my bags to make the best use of my limited luggage space. I was so tired, but I had to wake up at 3:15 that morning to make it on time for my flight. I caught the first bus to the city and arrived in good time at the terminal, where I saw Ofelina, the ex director of the high school in Chichica! So she was the last familiar Panamanian face I ran into. Then I took a taxi to the airport. I then got jerked around by the guys at the Delta counter, because I had an exemption letter for the airport tax but they wanted me to get it stamped before I checked in, but wouldn't clearly explain where I needed to do that, all while lugging around the nearly 100 pounds of luggage I was carrying. I got really frustrated at that point, asking people where I should go and nobody had a clue what I was talking about. Then Diedre and Dylan came, a couple other volunteers who were on my same flight home, and that made me feel a little better. I decided to wait in line again to see if I could get a different person, and he was not so mean ask to make me haul my luggage all over the airport and told me precisely where to go to get the stamp, and that he would take it after he had checked me in. However, the guys that checked in the other two didn't even ask for a stamp! Oh well. One last brush with Panamanian customer service.
The flights were pretty uneventful, except that during my flight to Atlanta I was seated next to a Panamanian lady named Carmen who was about 60 years old. She was one of those older ladies who are dependant upon their children to do everything for them, and since her daughter was not sitting next to her I had to take on that role for the duration of the flight! I told her how to unbuckle her seatbelt, plug in the headphones, work the touch screen on the seat, etc. She nearly talked my ear off but at least it was something to do for four hours. She told me her life history and all about her daughter's love life (who happened to be on the other side of the row, I wonder what she would think about all that!), and a little sermon about having faith in Jesus. She had my write my name in her Bible that she was carrying so she could pray for me, because I told her that I had left Mile in Panama and she was flabberghasted that he didn't want to come with me. So she was going to pray for me that either he would see the light and ask for me back, or that I would be able to erase him from my heart and wait for what was really meant to be. It was really kind of touching.
Anyway, I said goodbye to the other volunteers in Atlanta and continued on to my SLC flight. This one was truly routine, up until the point that I reached the escalators to the baggage claim, where my family was waiting for me! It was nice to see them again. Amy wasn't there because she had to work, but Mom, Dad, and Jeff were there with lots of hugs and smiles! We had Jeff carry my big backpack and he whined because it was so heavy (it had a heavy tag on it, I think it weighed nearly 60 lbs) but I didn't really feel sorry for him. I was still tired, but felt better just for having made it back to Utah since the worst part of the journey was over.
I had intended on resting the next day, but I felt like there was so much to be done and I felt antsy so I just kept going. I cleaned Mom's house a little, cleaned out the bedroom at grandma's that I was going to live in, planted Mom's flowers... and then I crashed. I had been developing a bladder infection while in Panama City because I was overspent and not drinking enough water, and while it didn't show up early enough to make me have to stay in the country until I got better, it definitely started over there. And I just kept pushing and pushing, and finally on Sunday the infection moved up into my kidneys while I was at my cousin's baby blessing. But they had some really tasty food! It really started to hurt that afternoon at my dad's house for the 4th of July barbecue (which by the way was excellent, delicious burgers, salads, and banana splits!) After eating we went to shoot off some fireworks at Dad's place of work. The first one he lit tipped over after the first round went off, and started shooting all over the place including toward us, the defenseless spectators! Dad shouted at us to get behind the car, and we kind of just stood there for a second before reacting. I jumped down from Jeff's truck bed even though I was really reluctant because my kidneys hurt, and Amy couldn't get down at all so Jeff stood in front of her until the firework was spent. What a good big brother! Everything after that seemed a little anticlimactic.
Well that night I tossed in Mom's bed for hours upon hours, unable to find any position in which I was not hurting, but I felt much better in the morning for the actual 4th of July. I didn't do anything much though, just hung around the house trying to rest. We went and saw the fireworks that Nephi City puts on each year, and that was all that was 4thy that we did. The next day I felt sicker again, so I decided to go to the doctor and get some antibiotics. I tried calling to get the necessary forms so that Peace Corps would pay for it, but to no avail. Will have to try next week to get that after the fact. Anyway, I went and they confirmed that I did indeed have a urinary tract infection. I had to wait at the pharmacy just as long as I was at the hospital to get my prescription filled though, sitting there rather miserably. That night sucked too, worse than the other one. After suffering all morning hardly able to move, I decided to take an asprin. And what a difference!! I felt so much better after getting rid of all that extra inflamation. Still infected, but on the road to recovery!
And so today, I moved into Grandma's because up until now I haven't felt good enough to even take my stuff over. So here I am, emphatically denying the shoulder angel that tells me that I should be looking for work, and listening to the shoulder devil that says there isn't anything out there anyway so why be in a hurry? I think I should enjoy a week or two of just relaxing and recovering because I have been overtaxing myself for a long time now, and it has been a stressful couple months both mentally and physically. And this is the sickest I have been within these last two years, of course! I had to wait until I got home to get sick.
Being back has not been weird at all. Everyone always talks about how hard "readjustment" is. In fact, for me it feels almost as if I had never left, if it weren't for all the memories and Panama souvenirs I have. Maybe I am as good at readjustment as I am at adjustment. I hope that I am not right back to where I started from, stuck in a job I hate or just plain unemployed and broke and living with my parents. But I think the best must be yet to come. Maybe I'll get lucky.
These last two years have been probably the best of my life, and I never regretted for a minute my decision to do Peace Corps. It has been an amazing journey in which I learned more about other people and also about myself. I have never been in better shape physically (until the kidney infection of course) due to walking everywhere I go and eating healthy, natural foods. I lived in a beautiful area with a big hill as my backyard, and instead of listening to trucks and sirens all night I had birds and insects and rain to lull me to sleep. I became fluent in Spanish, and learned a whole bunch about English that I would have never even realized without seeing the language from the perspective of an English learner. I developed my own projects and worked with community members in their projects, and hopefully made a small but lasting impact in their lives, as they have made in mine. I even fell in love, and even if Mile and I aren't together I know we will always be very good friends. I learned what I can live without. Yes, while convenient, electricity and running water are overrated. I lived just fine without a TV or a flush toilet for two years, just as they had done for thousands of years before me. What is truly important is not the things we are surrounded by so much as what we experience in life, and although I could have earned tens of thousands of dollars by working here for these 27 months, I would not trade my experiences for any of it. It has made me a more well-formed person, and I hope to be able to continue having similar experiences in the future.
Well, with this I believe I shall close this blog. Thanks to my friends and family who have been supportive of me during this time, it's great to be back with you! Until the next adventure...
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