This
week marks a big one in my Peace Corps service: I arrived in Samoa exactly two
years ago. Wow… I can’t believe I’ve been here for that long. There are moments
when it feels like time couldn’t pass any slower, but other moments time passes
in a blink of an eye. I guess time
is going both slow and fast simultaneously, but faster more than anything; especially
now.
Group
86, the group that is replacing my group, arrived this week. The group of 14
was welcomed into Samoa with an ava ceremony in which I was in attendance. It
was interesting to be there because it took me back to where I was two years
ago: how nervous I was speaking my first Samoan phrase aloud, in front of my
fellow PCVs and PC staff. The phrase was spoken for my group’s ava ceremony,
conducted in the same fale (open
building) Group 86’s ava ceremony was held. During Group 86’s ava ceremony, I
reminisced over my first few days in Samoa:
I
remembered how scared I was the first night in country, wondering if I could
survive in a foreign and developing country with a group of strangers.
I
remembered how new the world
appeared: feeling strong humidity for the first time, hearing countless
roosters throughout the day (not just the morning), being captivated by the
soothing scents of tropical flowers, and finally, freaking out that ants were
crawling all over my bed (little did I know that those little bastards would be
a part of my daily life in Samoa).
I
remembered the first blog post I wrote here, and how it made me cry.
I
remembered my first week of training in Apia and how Group 83 put on a “welcome
fiafia.”
I
remembered how mature Group 83 seemed.
Then I
remembered arriving in the training village and being in complete awe over the
fact that the village was situated right on the beach; I couldn’t believe I was
living that close to the sea. Me! A girl who comes from the desert… it was a
dream come true!
I
remember thinking that two years is a long
time to live in an unfamiliar country. It seemed like it was a life
sentence and like I’d never get to the point I’m at now: near the end of my
service, desperately trying to hold onto every moment and interaction I make
with those who have been a big part of my life these past two years. That’s
right, I’m sad to leave. While I’m
ready to leave Samoa, I’m sad to leave and say goodbye to the people who have
loved and supported me for two years and vice versa; I’m not ready for it. I’m
not ready to say goodbye. I got really emotional over this a few days ago.
Michelle, a fellow PCV in my group, and I were talking about how it’s almost
time to say goodbye. I tried to control myself but I couldn’t hold in my feelings;
I lost it in the middle of our conversation, resulting in tears to roll down my
cheeks. Luckily we changed the subject. But at that point it really hit me:
Whether I like it or not, my time in Samoa is nearing an end and I’ll have to
say goodbye. I know that many people I’ve met here will be a part of my life
forever. In fact, we are already planning reunions in Vegas and Coachella, as
I’ve mentioned in a previous blog post. So I know that I’ll see some of my
friends again. But what makes me really sad is knowing that if… no… when I come back to visit Samoa, things
won’t be the same as they are now: my fellow PCVs (and other friends) won’t be
here to meet up for a weekend at the beach, Chris’ house won’t be available to hangout
and sleep in, my students will be grown up, and my host mother may not back here.
As soon as I leave in December, she is moving to New Zealand to be with family.
So thinking about all of this, that my Samoa
will never be the same as it is now, is really hard to grasp. Then there’s the
other part of goodbye that I struggle with: saying goodbye to people I’ll most
likely never see again. I know that it’s part of life, but it’s a part that I
don’t like. Saying goodbye and seeing someone for the final time is really
strange, almost morbid… I wish it didn’t bother me. And to be fair, on several
occasions I have said final goodbyes to people I’ve met over these last two
years (and there have been many), but these goodbyes have been in intervals.
Come December, I’ll be saying final goodbyes to many people at once.
I must
add one more “I remember.” I remember coming into Samoa and not knowing a thing
about this country and not knowing what to expect. For the first time in a long
time, I left a strong sense of uncertainty. Eventually with time, everything
became familiar and normal. But now, that sense of uncertainty is back. The kicker is I’m not feeling it
because of Samoa. No. I’m feeling it because of America, my home. I’m uncertain what my future holds there. I know that I’ll
go back to my family and friends in Santa Fe (which I'm so excited for), but I’m uncertain the duration of
my stay. I know I’ll go to graduate school, but I’m uncertain where and for
what (I thought I’d have it figured out during my PC service and well… that
didn’t happen). There are so many uncertainties and it is causing me great
anxiety.
I’m
trying my hardest to put these uncertainties aside and focus on my final days in
this beautiful country. So during these next two months I’ll be busy at work
doing:
*The World
Map Project with Years 7 & 8 students
*Pushing
my proposal to get funded so that my school’s floor can be tiled as well as
purchase desks and chairs for every student in attendance
*Camp GLOW,
which will be held next month
*Starting
and completing two large documents PC requires before a PCV can end their
service
So much
to do, so much to see, so much to say, so little time… Two months to be exact!
Below
you’ll find photos of milestones during these past two years of my Peace Corps
service. Enjoy!
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| Meeting my fellow Group 84s for the first time |
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| Our last hours in America... We look like young pups! |
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| And we've made it to Samoa! |
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| During training. Trying to be a "teine Samoa" (Samoan girl). |
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| Dancing for my training village |
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| I survived (and helped clean-up) my first natural disaster. Cyclone Evan, you were something else. |
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| We're officially PCVs! |
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| At our 6 month party |
