Sunday, January 25, 2009

A Peace Corps Adventure: My Beginning

I am currently a Peace Corps Invitee and my Peace Corps journey is the main reason why I've decided to create a blog. Firstly, I've chosen to start it now, so I can get used to how it works, so if I have time to use it while I'm gone, everything will be set up and ready to go and I'll understand it. Secondly, it's a great way to keep in touch with family and friends who are interested in knowing what I've been up to. And thirdly, it's a great way for anyone interested in the Peace Corps to read about what I've been through and am going through. Plus, if anyone has any questions, they can contact me through my blog and I can then respond.

So, let's try and start at the beginning. During my first year at William Smith College I remember attending a Peace Corp information session. Apparently, it was a program I was interested in learning more about. I can't say that I gave it too much explicit thought over he following two years, but it had to have been on my mind somewhere.

Then, the spring semester of my junior year brought me a writing class. The second half of this class entailed putting together a booklet and presentation about a career, ideally the career we were working toward. At this point in my life, I still didn't know what I wanted to do. I had had some ideas, but they were still being mulled over. Then the Peace Corps popped back into my mind. I figured I could research the program, learn more about it, and figure out if it's something I'd like to pursue.

Well, that project opened my eyes to the wonders of the Peace Corps and all it could be. And it made me realize how much of the Peace Corps reflected what I wanted in life, experiences that I wanted to have: going abroad, experiencing and learning about another culture (the best way to do this is to immerse yourself in one), interacting with people while helping them, making a positive difference in the world no matter how small, becoming fluent in another language, maybe two. These were all very important things to me.

The next thing I knew, I had found their website online and began the application process. I found three people and eventually a fourth to write recommendations, I filled out all necessary information, looking up what was not on top of my head, and I began working on my essays. I wanted them to be great. Accordingly, I got the advice and editing of a beloved and gifted writing professor, my father who has always helped improve my writing, and I believe the help of my girlfriend, who is very bright, has an extensive vocabulary, and is also an excellent writer. Finally, I made a deadline for that fall, the middle of October: that was when I would be submitting my application. I made sure all of my recommendations would be in, did any final touches on my essays, and sent it in with all of my hopes, dreams, and aspirations.

I followed the progress of my application online and soon received a package requesting more information, step 2 if you will. I filled that out, got my fingerprints taken (it still feels weird to do that, like I've done something wrong, even though I know I haven't), and sent everything back within the 10 day limit. So far, so good.

The interview was next. Often times the interview is done over the phone unless an in person interview can be arranged. I lucked out because my recruiter was planning a visit to campus sometime in November and I was a that point in my application process, so one was set up. I was nervous, of course, but excited, too. My girlfriend helped iron my clothes that day which was not an easy thing for her to do, help me prepare to succeed at something that would in return pull me out of the country for 27 months. But she did it for me and was so great about it.

The interview went well. Shannon, my recruiter and interviewer, asked list of questions and I simply answered them as openly and honestly as possible. It felt more like I already had the job and Shannon was just double checking as opposed to me trying to get the job which was a nice surprise.

Within weeks, Shannon called me and said she was nominating me to the Sub-Saharan African region. She let me choose between leaving in July and going to a French-speaking country or leaving in September and going to a non-French-speaking country. I opted for September, so I could have once last summer with my girlfriend and one last summer to spend time with my family. I really wanted to have the opportunity to improve my French, but life is filled with choices and nothing is ever perfect. It's what you make of it. It can be perfect if you want it to and your expectations aren't impossible.

My trip got delayed until November and then I was just waiting on my invitation. Something I had forgotten during my waiting period was that nothing is final until you get your invitation. November came and I called my recruiter and my placement officer to find that I had not gotten into the November trip. I believe that budget cuts hurt my chances: 400 volunteers were delayed and some indefinitely. My placement officer tried to get me into a trip leaving early in 2009, but to no avail.

At this point I was frustrated. I had put my life on hold for something that seemed like it was never going to come. But then as all hope seemed lost (okay, I'm being rather dramatic here), something happened. I was prepared to wait and figured I wouldn't hear until April because the next date I was given was June. But in December, my parents made the trek upstairs to my room, tearing me away from my almost slumber, to say that I had gotten something that they were sure I'd want to open now. I couldn't believe it. A big envelope with the word Invitation written as clear as day.

Filled with excitement with butterflies fluttering around in my stomach, I opened my package to find a blue folder, the insides filled with everything I needed to know. I was going to Burkina Faso, a west African country landlocked by six other countries. I stayed up much later than planned that night reading about my adventure that had become so much more concrete in a matter of seconds.