“I’m at the edge of the opening, of the airlock chamber
I feel excellent!
I see clouds, and the sea.
I’m beginning to move away….”
E.V.A - Public Service Broadcasting
In the boarding line for Flight 471 from JFK airport in New York to Brussels, Belgium, - a full hour before take off - I turned my phone off. Texts were still coming in, unbelievably kind words from friends and family, some people whom I had not had a chance to see before I left - but I had enough. The goodbyes, the slow accumulation of them, the dread inherent in the anticipation of saying them, was killing me. I had spent the last 3 months carrying the weight of them everywhere I went. And here, at the threshold of a new road, at the literal gate of departure, it was time to start to let them go.
Besides, I had long day coming up, and if I was going to cram my long gangly limbs into a Economy seat for 19 cumulative hours without losing my ever-loving mind, then I would have to stick closely to my life-long training of finding my happy place and staying there for a very long time. Your average Yoga Person don’t stand a chance against your average tall person crammed in the back of a plane or bus. We’ve been forced to practice Upward Kneecap for years and years. Zen is our only option.
Gonna Fly Now, Flying High Now
I’m no tough guy so I can readily admit that I was very nervous when I crossed that gate onto the plane. But I knew that the trials and tribulations of living in a developing country for an extended period of time would be well mitigated by the approximately 7 hours of orientation time our volunteer health group had received the day before in a conference room in Philadelphia. The orientation, or “staging” as Peace Corps called it, was a surface level introduction of what life would be like for us in Africa. We spent the day doing different exercises to get to know each other in the group and addressing some scenarios we may find ourselves in that other volunteers have experienced in the past. Knowing that the scenarios we were discussing were directly replicated from previous and common problems that volunteers have lent an air of legitimacy and importance to our discussions. Beneath the veneer of perfection and altruism that many volunteers would have the outside world believe, many often can struggle with intellectual boredom, harassment from locals and arduous bureaucracy. So to talk about these things and get them out in the open, the difficult aspects of life in the host country, was a great way to try to wrap my mind around what I may personally face.
One of the many staging segments we did was looking over the “Core Expectations” for volunteers. Among them are: committing yourself to going to wherever the Peace Corps needs you, whether it be Rwanda or Mongolia; being professional at all times and representing the Peace Corps well; and representing an honest depiction of life in your host country for people back in the U.S. But the one that resonated for me was the Core Expectation around representing America and American values to the people abroad. It was great to be reaffirmed that as Americans we inherently represent the values of hard work, ingenuity and respect.
After working in politics and being mired in the insanity of the news at all hours and minutes of every day, it is easy to lose sight of the fact that America is a truly great country with wonderful people who are willing to give their time to others. I was filled with an excitement to utilize the traits I have been lucky to inherit as an American and use them to genuinely earn the respect of my host family and village community. Among all other of these Core Expectations this is the one that got me fired up.
And what is a red-blooded man to do when he gets all fired up about Got-Damn ‘Murica? You go to Spotify, search “Rocky Movie Soundtrack” and you run for as long as it takes to find Sylvester Stallone’s statue and pay tribute to the greatest American story ever told while listening to 80’s singers talk about flying high and having the Eye of the Tiger.
As I ran the steps and came back down, the song crescendo swelled in my ears and the city of Philadelphia unfolded in front of me with its famous architecture and fabled history. Against every cell in body that cried out against the awful cliche, I pumped my fists high. For a moment I felt like a champ. It was time to go.
Ripple in Still Water
They call Rwanda the “Land of 1000 Hills”. It is. Sitting here from our hotel (don’t worry, no Don Cheadle) it looks as though the Gods dropped a stone into the center of the country and the ripples hardened into an endless vista of rolling hills thats stretch as far as your eye can see. A photo wouldn’t do it justice - the country really is beautiful. On our tea breaks between training sessions, I sip the delicious black coffee and look out over the balcony of the hotel and get lost in the scenery for long stretches.
When I am dragged back to reality I, along with the other volunteers in my group, fight through jet lag to learn how to stay healthy and safe, and have even learned bits and pieces of the local language “Kinyarwanda”. The other 24 volunteers in our are a wonderful bunch of intelligent, professional and hilarious individuals. Several staff have commented on our highly evident cohesion and clear fondness for one another.
But all good times come to an end, don’t they? As of the writing of this post I am sitting on the eve of our last night in the hotel. After tonight things will become difficult as the modern amenities I have known and taken for granted all my life will be left behind. Tomorrow I will meet my host family and live with them for the next 10-12 weeks, learning the language and getting to know them. I’m excited and nervous as one can expect. The biggest thing I am anticipating that I will miss is a good hot shower… Oh how I love a good hot shower! What wonderful joy it brings me every morning! But alas, it will be bucket baths from here on out. A bucket and a cup and a bar of soap. But hey, I have made my choice to be a volunteer, and this is part of the deal.
I don’t know when you will hear from me next, as when we leave Kigali the wifi connections that are strong enough to facilitate a post will be scant. But I will do my best to keep writing so that when I have the opportunity, I’ll have good stuff to post. I can’t thank you all enough for reading. Writing these has been a lot of fun and the response to the first posts has been really awesome. Check back in with me later!