Friday, January 19th 2024 11:36 AM, Philadelphia, Pennsylvania USA
Today is a day that’s been awaiting me for nearly 8 years. That’s a third of my lifetime. It feels strange to put it that way, but it really is true. Joining the Peace Corps has been my dream for 8 years, and in a mere 3 hours, this epic journey will be underway.
It might be fitting to elaborate on how I embarked on this 8-year path.
My junior year of high school, I went on a mission trip to Ecuador with some of my best friends. We weren’t there to build anything or spread the word of the Lord, we were just there to learn from the people of Monte Sinai.
There were a few things I was struck by…the terrible condition of the roads, the madness of the driving, the inordinate amount of stray dogs, families of eight living in a one-room house, and the rawness of day-to-day existence.
What struck me more than anything else, though, was how happy everybody was. There were only smiles from the people who lived on a street where potholes could bury motorcycles and where roofs were made of leaves. I was humbled, and I felt like a big chump for complaining about my whiteboy problems. I felt sure that these people would kill to have problems as easy as mine.
But near the end of the trip, I wasn’t so sure. These people were really happy despite everything working against them. On the other hand, people in the States can be unhappy even when everything is going their way.
I wanted to experience what it was like to live how most of the world’s population does, with little more than what they need to survive, and from the get-go, I wanted to do it in Nepal.
People have been asking me “Why Nepal?” and the answer is quite simple. The mountains. The Himalayas I am told are like looking at the Rockys stacked on top of the Rockys. The Nepali countryside contains natural beauty the likes of which I have never seen before. I’m getting hyped up just typing that.
So here I am, about to depart on a long-awaited journey.
In a sense, the journey has already begun. I left my home on Wednesday around 9:30 AM with a head-splitting hangover from the festivities the night before, and by 10:30, I was at the airport. I said goodbye to my Mom and Grandma with misty eyes, and got on my plane, true to my word, without looking back. When I arrived in Philly, I got my bags and hopped on the train downtown.
Aforementioned “misty eyed farewell”
I don’t have a single wheel to my name. Everything I own can be strapped to my back and my chest, leaving my hands free to do whatever. My duffel bag straps to the top of my backpacking backpack, and I have another backpack that carries all my electronics, books, and journals. All told, my baggage probably weighs about 70 lbs.
I got off the train a stop too early and ended up having to walk about 15 minutes extra to get to the hotel. This was pretty brutal, and I regretted not having any wheels, if only for a moment. My hangover was very much in full effect, and all I wanted to do was sleep it off. I dropped my bags in my room and laid on the bed for a mere 5 minutes because I had arrived just ten minutes before the Peace Corps check-in. I took the elevator to the tenth floor, and there they were; the people who were as crazy as I was. Crazy enough to move across the world to live in a hut for two years.
First moments like these are always a little bit awkward, but everyone seemed pretty sound from the start. We had to fill out a survey, and were welcomed by Rashad, our staging coordinator, and Claire and Ben, the Peace Corps Coordinators. After a short shpiel and some administrative tasks, we had an hour to grab dinner, so a group of 7 of us went to the Reading Market to grab some grub. I got a Pastrami Rueben with full knowledge that my opportunities to have beef were rapidly dwindling (Nepal is a Hindu country and they don’t eat it).
If I am being honest, the next 24 hours were a total blur. It was a lot of information, icebreakers, new names, and activities; I wouldn’t dare bore you with the minutia. One thing that came out of it was that I became a travel leader. The twenty-four of us were broken up into four groups of six, and each group was meant to have a leader. Claire told each group to stand up when their group was called and to sit down if they didn’t want to be the leader. The first group had 5 people remain standing, and so Claire had them choose a number between 1 and 100, and the closest became the leader. When it came time for my group to choose a leader, everyone else sat down before I could, so I was forced into the position. I am not mad about it though, because I got a Peace Corps flag out of it, and I am told that swag is very hard to come by.
During staging, everyone was meant to post one “A-ha” moment they had from staging on the wall. Mine was this, “once we enter Nepal, there is no separation between ourselves and the Peace Corps. We are the Peace Corps”.
Group dynamics are a funny thing, and it is wild to see how fast relationships can form. Our cohort was originally meant to have 25 people, but one person dropped out. That person was meant to be my roommate, and so I am the only PCV with a room to myself. On one hand, it has been nice to have the space, but I also feel I am missing out on what could have been a special friendship. However, there is plenty of time left for friendship, and I believe I have already made a few.
The people in my cohort are world-class, and I feel very blessed that they are the ones who will be going through this experience with me. We all have a lot to learn from each other, and a lot to learn from Nepal. Of course, we all have plenty to give also, that’s why we’re here. After all, we are the Peace Corps, and while none of us truly knows what that means yet, we’re sure as hell about to find out.
