When I arrived in Philadelphia on March 19th, 2012, I was nervous. I had somehow forgotten that there might be other volunteers going to Morocco along with me. That in fact there are thousands of us spread all over the world and, to a certain extent, we're all in it together. One hundred and fifteen or so other people met me in Philadelphia and so started one of the oddest getting-to-know you experiences I've ever been a part of. Most of us were fully in the throes of an emotional hurricane, while trying not to show it too much.
Who the hell were these other people? How could there possibly be other idiots who thought this could be a good idea?
Now our numbers have dwindled to well under 100, as many have wised-up and decided it is time to go home. Friendship is weird in the peace corps. There are almost 100 people just like me, who've been here just as long. I don't know some of their names, and I only regularly talk to 2 or 3 of them, but they are all good friends. Everybody's site and work and daily life is different, sometimes radically so. But, we all sort of go through the same crap.
And that makes hanging out together one hell of a relief. That and the chance to celebrate America in absentia.
So Krista and I used the excuse of an AIDS-related-project-development-training this past weekend to go to Oujda and see maybe 8 other volunteers. Making burritos and eating some sort of ambiguously asian chicken stirfry with sandy mushrooms. And talking in English about American things like what music is popular and what the hell is going on with politics. Drinking beers and talking about AIDS. Great.
No comments:
Post a Comment