First of all, sadness set in the
minute Laura left me (May). My house felt very empty and I was back to
feeling my normal amount of loneliness The day after I settled back
into my village, I tried to call the Clinical Officer, Jane, to talk
about their progress on the Health Dispensary grant. She was
unreachable. I then called the nurse. She nonchalantly informed me
that Jane has left the village. The literal translation of the
Kiswahili word she used is: hama – to emigrate, move away, vacate.
Now, enter the emotion I'd like to call 'pissed off'.
Jane never once told me she was
leaving, or even thinking about leaving. She still has yet to tell me
anything! The reason I was so aggravated is because Jane was
my counterpart on the Health Dispensary grant which had been
officially approved by Peace Corps the week before. So, pretty much
the only person who was invested in this grant (or so I thought) had
“vacated”, and couldn't even so much as give me a heads up.
The next emotion is defeat. Pure
defeat. I have spent my entire service trying to motivate my
village into lifting a finger. They seem to believe that wanting
something and asking me for it will make it appear. Well, little do
they know, I drive a hard bargain. And, I also play by the rules. You
do your part, I'll do mine.
So, I thought to myself, “What do I
do with this outrageous amount of money sitting in my bank account?”
I could either a) give up and return the money to Peace Corps, or b)
look into other options which could also end up failing. I took the
latter option into my hands.
I remembered from a year and a half ago
when I was talking with the Head Teacher of my Primary School, who is
also my Mama here, about the school needing more pit latrines.
Luckily, with some finagling, the grant I wrote could be ultimately
changed into assisting the Primary School with this project.
It took some effort on both my part and
the part of the school committee. I had to ultimately re-write a new
grant, in two weeks; and the school committee had to show me their
dedication to the project or else Peace Corps wouldn't allow the
switch. Let's just say I never want to write another grant (for
America or Peace Corps) in my life, ha. Although, that is one skill
I've definitely mastered.
To my relief, the school
committee was on top of things! Within one week they made a huge pile
of bricks and finished digging the entire hole! That is what I'm
talkin' about! What a difference from working with the Health
Dispensary! I reiterated on multiple occasions the time issue of this
project. We NEED to have it completed and all the receipts turned in
to me by August 1st. After this date, my task is to write
the completion report and turn in the receipts to Peace Corps before
my COS Conference (Close-of-service) at the end of August. I was
apprehensive to start such a big project in my last 6 months
at site. But, my mama has told me not to worry, so I'm trying not to.
During the process of changing the
grant, other Peace Corps related events were happening. All the
volunteers found out that 25 PCVs would be chosen out of a hat (how
official) to meet Obama who was coming in early July. We just had to
tell our “bosses” that we wanted our names in that hat. Now mind
you, there are well over 100 (give or take) PCVs in Tanzania; so the
chances are slim. MY NAME WAS CHOSEN! Pure exhilaration!!
Or so I was
expecting.
I called some of my
friends here and they were all very excited for me. So, why wasn't I
bouncing off the walls? I didn't realize how mediocre I had been
feeling. You'd think the opportunity to meet the president as a Peace
Corps Volunteer would have been something to jump and scream about,
but I was merely joyful. I remember smiling. A PCV who was extending
and had just gotten back from her home leave had once told me that
she didn't realize how unhappy she was here until she went back to
America. I can completely understand that now. Emotions are muffled
here, and I'm not sure if it's because we don't allow ourselves to
feel every emotion fully (because we might not be able to handle it),
or if we become a certain amount of detached from our lives
here.
To add
to the uncertainty of
the pit latrine project and the exciting
news of meeting Obama, one of my best friends here called me a week
ago to tell me Peace Corps was sending her home on medical leave
because of an injury. I was shocked
to hear of this progression. Then I became dispirited.
Here, friends are gold. Not only
did another best friend move out of my region, but now this friend is
going back to America.
You'd think I'd be
able to handle change. Uprooting my life in America to live in
Tanzania for two years isn't easy. But, I've realized I don't mind
big changes as much as I mind small changes. When my friend moved out
of my region, everything changed. I didn't have my best friend to
talk to daily, see once a month, and share village experiences with.
Now, this friend is going back to America. Once again, I will lose a
friend to confide in. But, as they say, life goes on, and time heals
everything...
To be continued...
