Beginnings and Questions

Looking for some direction? (photo by Evan Finn)

For those of you who don't know, I am a volunteer on Peer Support Network or PSN.  As a PSN member, volunteers call me up and speak, with full confidentiality, about whatever might be on their mind.  Whether about their latest success or their current low point, my main objective is to listen and validate the person on the phone.  Its a great service provided by all Peace Corps countries and I enjoy being involved in it.

So, why am I brining up this aspect of my Peace Corps service today?  Well, during our training to be PSNers we received information about the volunteer cycle of adjustment and vulnerability.  Almost all volunteers cycle through a semi-predictable pattern in their service, where they oscillate between feeling confident and well adjusted in their service and the culture to feeling anxious and vulnerable.

For much of 2012 we've been lucky enough to feel good about what we're doing.  We're in our second year and confident in our workspace.  Our secondary or passion projects are usually in full swing and we are comfortable with the cultural ties we've developed in our community.  However, all good things must end and our last four months of service are marked by a last swing into vulnerability.

From the conversations we have with one another, its fairly obvious to see.  There are concerns of what happens next and of what it will be like to leave the place we've called home, no matter how strange, for the last two years.  There are concerns about what it will be like to enter our American world of friendships and dating again-all of us have yearned for this for the last two years, but it can be a little intimidating to think about how much we may have missed.  We've all experienced a lot of personal growth here and there are concerns over what parts of our identity will transcend cultural mores and geographical borders and what parts were simply an 'Azerbaijani' aspect of ourselves.

These are the concerns that volunteers ending their service dissect with each other on the phone, on the bus, and on the floor.  In less than 3 months, on November 15th, I'll be heading back to America.  Every day, literally every single day, I wake up and am grateful that I am one day closer to that moment, which has for so long seemed so so far away.  But just like every end, it is followed by a beginning, and all beginnings have questions.

I know I'll be heading home for the holidays-I've been away too long and want to see my family and friends and dogs.  But I also want to eat chipotle burritos and avocados, drink PBR and Maker's Mark, and be told I'm pretty by men who's names I don't yet know.  I know that I'll be traveling to South East Asia after that, but for how long and to where exactly I'm still unsure.  I'm unsure of where I will live when I come back and what I'll do for money-I'm confident these answers will come, but they haven't yet, and the questions remain.

There's really no conclusion to this post, its open-ended.  When I came to Azerbaijan two years ago (as of September) I knew that for the next two years I would not have to worry about my food, my house, my health, or my job-all of those things would be provided for.  And that was pretty nice.  But that time has now passed and I'm thankful for that.  And all of us all-too-recent bleary-eyed, jet-lagged 8s must begin thinking about these questions again.  Which is also kind of nice.

It just makes us feel vulnerable.