They never said it would be easy, but...
...never in my wildest dreams could I have imagined that my service as a Peace Corps volunteer would begin in an almost traumatic fashion. But, before I get to ahead of myself, let's do a small capstone of the past ten weeks.
For those who are unaware of the Peace Corps structure, all those who want to become volunteers most go through a two to three month training period known as Pre-Service Training (PST). This training consists of orientation, the development of technical skills, the study of language, as well as the time to practice implementation of gained knowledge and skills out in the community. I spent various amounts of time - anywhere from one to four weeks at a given time - in different parts of Uganda - Mukono, Gulu, Soroti, Kampala - to do all of these activities as required by Peace Corps. For example, while in Gulu district, I studied Acholi, the local language of my placement district, for four weeks.
PST is incredibly overwhelming mentally and physically. The days and loads of information never seem to end. Although I was ready to experience the challenges of such a schedule aimed at creating people "prepared" for the field, there came a point where I had to simply let go. The nature of PST almost requires someone not to take all of it so seriously otherwise it leads to a lot of tension and stress. I decided early on in the process that I was going to try because it was what I had signed up to willingly do, but I wasn't going to over exert myself to the point of breaking down. Key point in case: I decided to watch a Harry Potter movie instead of study Acholi the day I had to take the exam that would determine whether I passed or failed in language study. And, you know what, I did alright. If PST taught me anything more than its intention, then it was that we can always have room to learn/improve but we can do neither if we are not taking care of ourselves.
The day of swearing-in was like an anticipated ice cream sundae on a hot summer day and becoming a Peace Corps volunteer was its cherry. It was surreal that all of my hard work would actually turn into such a profit. I was too content to feel the anxiety of moving back to my site permanently the next day and the travel preparations were in place as soon as the celebrations were over. I was ready.
But I was not ready for the reality that was awaiting me. After hours of travel, I got to my placement district excited to move into the house my organization had found for me only to discover that I actually had no house. Yep, that's right, I was homeless and it was not until I was in the back of a hotel that I was informed there was a problem securing the house and that I would stay in this hotel while awaiting other housing. I had no words, only feelings of extreme disappointment. Why would my organization lie to me and Peace Corps? How are we going to work together with this feeling of betrayal? Why is this happening to me?
The following day was filled with a lot of communication between me, the Peace Corps, and my host organization. I learned the truth of the situation: the landlord, who had promised to work on the home, gave the home to another person who would take the home in its current state. After talking it out and spending a lot of thought in self-reflection (and a good cry followed by a necessary nap), I found myself at peace with all that had happened to me. Life is unfair and that does not mean we do not feel the unjust situations as anything less than unjust, but we can choose to move forward or go back. It was not completely my organization's fault and they were working to mend those broken bridges. I could work on mine, too.
I was feeling pretty good emotionally considering my circumstances, but my physical state would soon take a turn for the worse. A few hours after I had come to inner peace, I puked and pooped my guts out. We all know how much I love to puke, particularly in Uganda of all the places (please refer to my previous post "The spirituality of..." for more details about this love). My best guess is that this random bug came from the over-exhaustion of travel combined with the rigorous schedule of PST on my body.
On top of it all, I was still homeless and could not move out of the hotel because Peace Corps has to approve all housing for its volunteers. It was awful. I had no hopes of recovering in my small, stuffy hotel room sharing a bathroom with other hotel guests. Could anything else go wrong? Fortunately, no. Another volunteer in the area offered a place of solace at her house while my organization continues its search to find me a place of my own. The gesture could not have come in a time of greater need and I could not be more thankful for having a safe space as I slowly put my life back together.
This mysterious bug has reeked nothing short of havoc on my body and this lack of housing has brought me nothing less of distress, but I am, once again, content and can say, "It is well." And there is nothing that could take this from me. All the trials that await me over these next two years of service to try to prove me wrong, these are my words to you: Come at me; I welcome your challenge.
P.S. - It only took a week of laying in bed, eating nothing but bread and instant noodles, drinking liters of water and horrible oral re-hydration solution, and an antibiotic to make my recovery, but I am now healthy and hope to stay this way for a long time. My next major life goal: find housing for the next two years. Cheers!
The contents of this website are mine personally and do not reflect any position of the U.S. government or the Peace Corps.
For those who are unaware of the Peace Corps structure, all those who want to become volunteers most go through a two to three month training period known as Pre-Service Training (PST). This training consists of orientation, the development of technical skills, the study of language, as well as the time to practice implementation of gained knowledge and skills out in the community. I spent various amounts of time - anywhere from one to four weeks at a given time - in different parts of Uganda - Mukono, Gulu, Soroti, Kampala - to do all of these activities as required by Peace Corps. For example, while in Gulu district, I studied Acholi, the local language of my placement district, for four weeks.
During our language training, we are placed with homestay families, who help us practice our language and teach us more about local culture. These women have become my third family in Uganda |
PST is incredibly overwhelming mentally and physically. The days and loads of information never seem to end. Although I was ready to experience the challenges of such a schedule aimed at creating people "prepared" for the field, there came a point where I had to simply let go. The nature of PST almost requires someone not to take all of it so seriously otherwise it leads to a lot of tension and stress. I decided early on in the process that I was going to try because it was what I had signed up to willingly do, but I wasn't going to over exert myself to the point of breaking down. Key point in case: I decided to watch a Harry Potter movie instead of study Acholi the day I had to take the exam that would determine whether I passed or failed in language study. And, you know what, I did alright. If PST taught me anything more than its intention, then it was that we can always have room to learn/improve but we can do neither if we are not taking care of ourselves.
My language group on the day of our swearing-in as Peace Corps volunteers. We are taking Acholiland (northern Uganda) by storm. |
The day of swearing-in was like an anticipated ice cream sundae on a hot summer day and becoming a Peace Corps volunteer was its cherry. It was surreal that all of my hard work would actually turn into such a profit. I was too content to feel the anxiety of moving back to my site permanently the next day and the travel preparations were in place as soon as the celebrations were over. I was ready.
But I was not ready for the reality that was awaiting me. After hours of travel, I got to my placement district excited to move into the house my organization had found for me only to discover that I actually had no house. Yep, that's right, I was homeless and it was not until I was in the back of a hotel that I was informed there was a problem securing the house and that I would stay in this hotel while awaiting other housing. I had no words, only feelings of extreme disappointment. Why would my organization lie to me and Peace Corps? How are we going to work together with this feeling of betrayal? Why is this happening to me?
The following day was filled with a lot of communication between me, the Peace Corps, and my host organization. I learned the truth of the situation: the landlord, who had promised to work on the home, gave the home to another person who would take the home in its current state. After talking it out and spending a lot of thought in self-reflection (and a good cry followed by a necessary nap), I found myself at peace with all that had happened to me. Life is unfair and that does not mean we do not feel the unjust situations as anything less than unjust, but we can choose to move forward or go back. It was not completely my organization's fault and they were working to mend those broken bridges. I could work on mine, too.
I was feeling pretty good emotionally considering my circumstances, but my physical state would soon take a turn for the worse. A few hours after I had come to inner peace, I puked and pooped my guts out. We all know how much I love to puke, particularly in Uganda of all the places (please refer to my previous post "The spirituality of..." for more details about this love). My best guess is that this random bug came from the over-exhaustion of travel combined with the rigorous schedule of PST on my body.
On top of it all, I was still homeless and could not move out of the hotel because Peace Corps has to approve all housing for its volunteers. It was awful. I had no hopes of recovering in my small, stuffy hotel room sharing a bathroom with other hotel guests. Could anything else go wrong? Fortunately, no. Another volunteer in the area offered a place of solace at her house while my organization continues its search to find me a place of my own. The gesture could not have come in a time of greater need and I could not be more thankful for having a safe space as I slowly put my life back together.
This mysterious bug has reeked nothing short of havoc on my body and this lack of housing has brought me nothing less of distress, but I am, once again, content and can say, "It is well." And there is nothing that could take this from me. All the trials that await me over these next two years of service to try to prove me wrong, these are my words to you: Come at me; I welcome your challenge.
xoxo,
Emilia
P.S. - It only took a week of laying in bed, eating nothing but bread and instant noodles, drinking liters of water and horrible oral re-hydration solution, and an antibiotic to make my recovery, but I am now healthy and hope to stay this way for a long time. My next major life goal: find housing for the next two years. Cheers!
The contents of this website are mine personally and do not reflect any position of the U.S. government or the Peace Corps.
It is indeed well!
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