Sad but true.
And then of course there´s all the news I´ve missed. The BP Oil Spill. The emergence of the Tea Party. Revolutions in the Middle East. The Federal debt crisis. Earthquakes in Haiti, Chile and Japan. Osama´s capture. The Royal Wedding. All of these I´ve-just-come-from-the-jungle-and-I-feel-lost stories are good for a laugh, but I know I can eventually catch up when it comes to scary technology, big headlines and celebrity gossip.
The real reason PCVS worry about their close of service isn´t so much about going back home, but about leaving the country in which we´ve lived and worked for two years. I´ve had a life-changing experience and learned more about myself and this tiny part of the world than I ever imagined I would. And now I am struggling with how to reconcile the old U.S. Catherine with the new Panamanian Cati. My fear is that when I go back home, I will have let go of so much of what I´ve learned and the life I´ve had, in some ways slowly and unconsciously and in others, more abruptly. I know I´ll be homesick for Panama and the way I lived here.
One of the things I like most about Panama is the friendliness and approachability of everyone who lives here. Strangers are always striking up conversation, hanging around and looking out for each other. When you get on a bus, you say ¨Buenos dias!¨to everyone, and most people say it back. If you feel like talking, you just go to your neighbor´s house and pass the time. Here, I feel like I can talk to anyone anywhere about anything. There is a real sense of community.
In the hours I might have previously wasted talking on a phone, surfing the net, or watching trash television, I have made amazing friendships with other PCVs, people who, because of the extreme circumstances we´ve shared, feel closer to me than some people I´ve known my whole life. I´ve loved and been loved by a group of people in my community who I didn´t even know existed two years ago. Panama and the pace of life here offers people this time to get to know each other, to enjoy the company of someone else, and in doing so, become more aligned with one of the essential things that makes life worth living: human connections.
Whereas, in the United States, to a large exent, people have stopped connecting in this baic way. Everyone is too busy with their smart phones to look up and say hi to the person sitting next to them. You could argue that Americans are more connected than ever, with the Internet and social networks that enhance the relationships we have in ¨real life.¨ But I don´t think so. Sharing links or liking someone´s status on Facebook doesn´t offer as much as sitting down and sharing coffee and conversation with that person. In my time here, I have come to feel more connected to myself and the people around me than ever before.
So there is the anxiety that certain aspects of U.S. culture and life now seem foreign or even undesirable to me. But more than that, I am faced with wrapping up one of he biggest, most important periods of my life. I´ve had the time here to figure out what makes me happy, what I´m good at, not so good at, and take on things that at first seemed impossible. I´ve become so much more patient, serene, and open-minded than I could ever have imagined. When I first got here, I lacked the self-assuredness to believe that I could so much of anythuing here. But somehow, I´m still not sure how, I figured things out little by little, and before I knew it, the journalism major who had never been on a plane before was managing a construction project in an indigenous village.
Peace Corps does this to people. It gives you opportunities and responsibilities that you may not deserve, and allows you to run with them. I look back and am amazed by all that´s happened in two years, what the people here have taught me, and how much perspective I´ve gained. An experience this challenging and foreign forces people to evaluate what is really important to them, what they are capable of, and how their life and purpose fits in with those of of the seven billion others. I am sad to let go of this time in my life, where something new happens every day, when I am so constantly challenged, and the rewards for success feel so great. The contrast of highs and lows, combined with the novelty of the things we get to do here, give us the sense of really living and experiencing life completely.
But as much as I have loved Panama, and the life lessons it has taught me, I also have a greater appreciation for the United States and the countless advantages I enjoy for just having been born there. I am excited to go back. I miss my family and friends. I´m burned out by certain aspects of being a PCV and am eager to start the next stage of my life. But I struggle with the idea that the patience, tranqulity and thoughtfulness that have defined my time here will start to fade away. I will miss the simplicity of life, the connectedness to community and nature and the sense that, even if I feel I´m failing, I am still making an effort at something worthwhile. I know parts of this experience will be with me forever, but the pace and competitiveness of U.S. life will surely start to chip away at some of the perspective, patience, and understanding I´ve been forced to adopt here.
It´s difficult to sum up what this experience has meant. It may be something I won´t fully realize until I´ve been back in the U.S. for a while, and even then, something that is so subjective and personal it´ll be hard to articulate. In the mean time, as I tie up the loose strings and prepare to leave, I am being extra-conscious to remember and savor everything I´ve gotten used to-- from the ocean views and rainforest downpours to the kids´ brilliant smiles and bottomless eyes.
I´ve experienced so much , and I can´t afford to forget any of it.
No comments:
Post a Comment