SO A Year, ALREADY?!

I found this entry somewhat buried within my computer. I know I’m posting it a little later (only 3 months lol) than originally planned, but I promised I would do better about keeping the updates fresh, so here’s me keeping my word. Enjoy!

4/19/2012

I’m in utter disbelief. Exactly one year ago to the date, I boarded a colectivo (bus) with Jaime (G-mate/neighboring volunteer), half my luggage, and a very nervous anticipation of what awaited me in my new (and permanent) home of Isla Pucú. 12 MONTHS AGO.  To say it doesn’t feel like 365 days worth of time has gone by at all would be an understatement. The clocks ticked away painfully slow during training (my first 3 months living here), but have flown by ever since.  I’m looking back and trying to remember how I got to where I am now. In short, I’d have to say my host family the Gonzalez-Diazs’ have played a huge part. Generally speaking many Peace Corps volunteers would probably agree that after already been required to live with a host family for 3 months, the thought of living under the roof of another one isn’t exactly thrilling. And it’s nothing against host families or anything, really. Most are as guiding and supportive as a family away from home can possibly be, some even more so. The groaning and heavy sighing has more to do with a craving for privacy (complete privacy) in conjunction with independence. We sat uncomfortably through somewhat informative sessions for days on end longing all the while to put our new skills to instant good use and explore our surroundings with uninhibited curiosity. Instead, however we were restricted under a different (but equally as watchful) eye for yet another 3 months. It’s sort of like training a bird to fly within a cage then sending it off with your blessing….to an aviary. I mean is it ever truly gonna be able to soar or learn on it’s own within confinement? Of course not, but rules are rules which means some of us (whether we like it or not) have to remain sheltered beneath a protective wing just a little longer than planned.  So, I shook off my dissatisfaction and braced myself for more awkward encounters where due to a lack of confidence I consistently stifled thoughts like: “It’s not that I don’t speak Spanish, it’s that you talk so fast I can’t understand you” and “The reason a third party isn’t necessary to inquire about my personal life is because I’m sitting right beside you.” Oh the good ol’ days when my only worry was whether I rolled that last “r” audibly enough seem like only a distant memory now.  And in a way, they kinda are. I’m proud to say that within a year’s time, I’ve overcome my verguenza (embarrassment) and there is significantly less gesturing from my host mother when I stop by for my weekly visits (although she does throw one in there every now and then, for old time’s sake).  Since I moved out and have been living on my own, I have come to appreciate her all the more. When something went awry before it was simply added to the topics of conversation at mealtime, but in my own household I have to either be my own hero or go retrieve the nearest neighbor (which is not at all easy being Paraguayans never seem to run low on excuses, ever). Presently, I better understand and fully respect the Peace Corps policy and the importance stressed in community integration beginning with host families. It’s through them that we learn how to “blend in” (despite the book bags we lug around that are an obvious giveaway). We arrived here lost and in a daze (that is if you aren’t fluent, which I was not), but host families help to ease the initial shock. They are our very first, and if we’re lucky a continuous support system. At the end of the day, we all just want to be accepted and if not, knowing there is at least one person in this foreign land rooting for us is encouraging.  Sincerely speaking, there are days when I’d rather pack my bags and book the next flight out, but I’d hate to look back at this experience and have the dreaded “what ifs’’” haunt me.  On top of that, it’s true we are our own worse critics, but imagining the disappointment of TWO moms as well is probably, unbearable. And it’s wise of me to not desire to test that theory, agreed? Plus I’m no quitter, so I shove the reoccurring thought of giving up without a fight to the back of my mind and press on. I mean, I made it this far, didn’t I? It seems I’ve proven to others and (most importantly) to myself that I am capable of pushing the limits and any doubts only add fuel the fire. So, I look forward to what this coming year brings with hope rather than hesitance. I spent the majority of my service thus far learning there are things you just can’t influence a person to change, but for the remainder of it I expect to learn of the things I can. Crazy as it sounds I may have arrived over 365 days ago, but it feels like I’ve only just found my niche. We’re assigned for a two-year term for a reason after all, and I’m told year two is when the ball truly gets rolling. That being said, I can’t wait to see what the second half of my service holds and share what more I’ve experienced after another year. I’m sure my friends and loved ones are just as eager as I am, but I wouldn’t wish time to pass any faster than it already is. I can barely keep track of the memories I'm making as it is!

PS- Check out the photos below of Rose and I’s cookout to commemorate this significant accomplishment. We’re halfway done whoo-hoo! J

About to cook up some Tilapia!

Jose saved the day by helping us start up the grill :)