1 year mi de!

Last week was actually a pretty big deal for me and the rest of my Peace Corps training class (big up Group 80!) It has officially been a year since we started our Peace Corps service. It has been, by far, the fastest year of my life. I cannot wrap my head around the fact that I’ve been here for a year, and neither can most of the people that I talk to about. Now, I could get all deep and emotional about this, but instead I’m going to steal and idea from Sara Ray. She’s a fellow GW alum and a fellow PCV serving in Macadonia. For her one year anniversary, she wrote about the day she had arriving in PC and the day she had one year from that. I really liked the idea, so I’m going to do the same.

March 17^th/ 18^th, 2009:

I woke up around 4 am on the 17^th for my trek to JFK. My mom and I got my 3 big bags in the car, and pulled out of the driveway in the dark. I wasn’t really sure what to think, or what to do with myself. I was trying (unsuccessfully) to keep all my expectations in check and just make it on to the plane. And after a sad goodbye and an anxious wait, I was in the air on my way to Miami for staging. I don’t really remember much of the plane ride, but the next memory I have is standing on the sidewalk in Miami waiting for the shuttle to the hotel. There was an older man standing about 50 feet down, and I decided to go out on a limb and ask if he was with Peace Corps. He was. We rode together to the hotel to meet the rest of our training class, making small talk along the way. Here was the first of many expectations I had to adjust – I assumed that almost all of the volunteers would be young, like me, but in actuality, half of my training class is 50+. We got to the hotel, I got to my room to freshen up, rest and regroup. After about an hour, I timidly went downstairs for lunch, registration and “staging”. Like most orientations, staging sucked. It was boring, involved a lot of paperwork and felt never ending (thankfully it was only a few hours). While sitting in a room listening to headquarters staff drone on, I remember thinking how unfair it was to make us sit through this – I just wanted to get to Jamaica already, and this extended layover was not much fun. I did have a good time getting to know the people in my training class though, and after walking around Miami a little bit and having a couple pints of Sam Adams in the hotel bar (it was St. Patty’s day after all), we headed up to bed. I was nervous, and didn’t know what to expect. The people in my training class were nice, but was everyone just on their best behavior? Would I like Jamaica? Would I be good at whatever job I was placed into? Would I fail miserably and come running home after a few weeks? I went to bed with all these thoughts swirling, but thankfully was able to get a decent night’s sleep once, enjoying my last night state side.

I woke up on the 18^th a bit confused. Was this actually happening? I had waited so long to get to here – it had been over a year since I had turned in my application, and about 6 months since I had received my invitation to serve in Jamaica. It was a little surreal that today was actually the day I was going to Jamaica. Again, much of the day is a blur, and I only remember flashes. Being in the lobby at 7:30, bleary eyed and wading through everyone’s luggage to sign in. Walking through the airport with a new friend trying to find breakfast. Taking group pictures in the airport. Figuring out who was sitting next to each other for the flight. One distinct memory I have is sitting next to a big Jamaican woman on the plane who tried to convert me to Christianity, and I remember thinking “If the typical Jamaican is anything like this woman, this is gonna be a rough two years.” (Thankfully, she is one of only a few who have tried to “save” me.)

After about 90 minutes, Jamaica was suddenly underneath us and we got our first glimpse at the rolling hills and lush, green landscape. All of the fear and apprehension I felt was suddenly gone. I was giddy. I couldn’t stop smiling and laughing. I kept thinking “We’re here! We’re here!”. We were greeted at the airport by Peace Corps staff and current volunteers, took some pictures and loaded into buses for our drive to the Peace Corps office. There were current volunteers with us, and we all kept harassing them with questions. I was amazed at how much they knew about Jamaica, and how easily they were able to rattle off facts from food to geography to politics to language to sports and more. It was overwhelming. I tried to take in as much of the information and scenery as I could, but suddenly we were at the Peace Corps office. There were snacks and tables after tables of information and forms to fill out - information on medical issues, safety, phones, money and other various things were thrown at us faster than we were able to absorb it. After a few talks, lots of welcomes and a tour of the Peace Corps office (which I still find a bit confusing), we were taken to our hotel to rest for the night. We had a few Red Stripes (what else?), had some dinner, chatted for a bit with each other and with current volunteers before retiring. It had been an exhausting few days, and I went to sleep with my head spinning. I was a little nervous, a little overwhelmed, but mostly I remember being excited and content. I was finally starting this adventure that I had waited so long for.

March 17^th/18^th 2010:

I had been a bit tired lately, so I decided to sleep in a little bit on the 17^th, and so didn’t get out of bed until about 7. It was the second day of a two day workshop I was attending in Mandeville – a town high in the hills in central Jamaica. Mandeville is very cool this time of year, and I’m sure the unusual feeling of sleeping comfortably under two blankets (albeit light ones) factored into my decision to stay in bed. Eventually I got up, took a freezing shower, and headed off to breakfast. The workshop was focused on the first draft of a Protected Areas Management Plan that the Jamaican government had recently put together. They had put this whole plan together and failed to consult the NGOs at all. It is the NGOs that work and often manage these protected areas – whether officially or not, and so the input from these groups should be seen as vital in putting this plan together. It was a small workshop – only about 10 of us from different NGOs who had come together to put together a response to the draft. We had spent the first day talking about our reactions to the draft, and this day was spent talking about next steps. There was talk of how to approach the national committees, and of putting together an organized network of NGOs. It was a small group, but it was an interesting mix of Americans, Jamaicans and even a Swiss man to spice it up. Some had been involved in the environmental movement here for decades and some (like me) were very new to the scene. It was fascinating to be a part of, and by the end of the day I was seriously thinking about extending my service for the first time since I had landed in country a year before.

The workshop ended by about 3, and I drove back with a co-worker and a friend of his. It was about a 3 hour ride, and we spent it chatting, resting, listening to music and enjoying the scenery. I remember my first car ride alone with Jamaicans as awkward and a bit forced. In contrast, this ride home was easy, light and mostly enjoyable. I finished the day off with a patty (Jamaican empanada or calzone), and went home to catch up on some emails and some work (yes, work!).

I was back to my normal wake up time of 6:30, went for a run, ate some breakfast and rode my bike into work by about 8:30. I had planned a workshop with a partner agency that day for some farmers, so I spent about an hour getting myself ready, printing out agendas and making a few calls. We had never set an exact time for the workshop (just “in the morning”), and at the beginning of my service that would have been a huge stressor. But by now, I’ve learned to just roll with it. We made it to our venue – a local church – by about 9:45 and were ready to go by 10:15 or so. Our partner for the workshop had promised 40 farmers, however none were there when we were ready to go. Again, this is something that would have had me very stressed out a few months ago, but instead I just waited patiently, went over my presentation and made small talk with some of the people around me. However, I did set a cut off time for my patience – 11:30. But as luck would have it, at about 11:15 farmers started to trickle in. by 11:30, we had about 25 farmers and were ready to go.

Like almost all events I’ve been a part of in Jamaica, this one got started much later than I thought it would. But once it got going it was a really good event. The farmers were receptive and engaged, and the four presentations (including one from yours truly on biodiversity) went over really well. We were through by about 3:00, and I headed back into the office for an hour or two of wok, emails and gchatting (I had had a productive morning, after all!). I headed home at about 5:30 and spent the rest of the evening reading, cooking and watching an episode or two of Entourage – my latest obsession. I went to bed at my typical time of about 9:45, and I slept well that night – it had been a good day, and a good anniversary.