After having lived somewhere for 2 full years, saying goodbye is not something that can be accomplished in a single day. My goodbyes started as early as May with my belongings. It was decided that I would not be replaced this year, meaning all of my household possessions needed to leave the house. Peace Corps reclaims most everything it lends its volunteers for their service, meaning that the volunteers are responsible for bringing everything back down to the capital on their own. In my village, where cars are not readily available, this meant I had to take everything out via moto. This took careful planning months in advance - planning what I'd take with me, little by little, every time I left my village between May and July. Other items, such as household furniture, I sold to people in my village who wanted them. And I ultimately gave a lot of things away for free as well.
Next came saying goodbye to volunteers. During my service, I'd only see some volunteers who lived up-country once every several months. While many of my closest friends made an effort to meet me right before I actually left, I had to start saying goodbye to others who lived further away months before my actual COS (Close of Service) date.
While my last month was filled with goodbyes, the last week was the most intense. It was very important that I personally say goodbye to all of my contacts in village for the sake of not offending anyone - which meant a lot of walking around those last few days. I was touched by how many people from other villages went out of their way to call or come and say goodbye to me too. The nurse, midwife, and pharmacist with whom I'd worked organized a goodbye lunch for me and gave me a thank you gift, teachers with whom I'd worked took me out for drinks out of thanks, and people were constantly flowing in and out of my house over the course of the week to thank me, wish me well, and spend as much time as they could spare visiting with me for the last time. I was moved by everyone's words of appreciation the most; I was grateful for their recognition and appreciation of my work, and touched that so many people were begging me to stay a third year. On the morning I was going to leave, one of my neighbors came by with a live chicken for me as a final thank you gift. Thank goodness for host moms; mine killed it, cooked it, and prepared it as a meal for the trip (it was delicious). Even though she'd already said goodbye twice the day before, my water girl came by one last time that morning with her younger sisters to spend some time with me. (We colored). My host mom was the hardest person for me to say goodbye to. I'd made it through all the other goodbyes without shedding a tear, but as soon as my host mom started crying, I couldn't help but tear up as well. She's one of the people I'll miss the most.
The day I left village happened to be the same day that the older volunteers threw a welcome party for the new volunteer trainees, who had just finished their first one-week visit at post. The party was held at one of the transit houses, where I was stopping through on my way down to Lome. A lot of people were there and it was a fun night of good homemade food, dancing, and good company. A number of my friends stayed up until 4 AM to wave me off when the taxi came to take me down to the capital.
The last few days in Lome were spent primarily in the Peace Corps Bureau. I had a whole checklist of things to get done before I could earn the status of an RPCV (Returned Peace Corps Volunteer). Luckily it wasn't too overwhelming as I had done a lot of the paperwork months beforehand. When I finally finished everything I felt so libearated! My last night in Togo, I went out to dinner downtown at one of my favorite Lebanese restaurants with some of my good friends who happened to be in Lome as well. The owner of the restaurant, who knows me well since I frequent his place so often, filled our table with amazingly delicious Lebanese food for only a fraction of the cost as a goodbye gift. I was so touched by his generosity and we waddled out of there with full bellies.
In heading back to the States, I flew out of Accra, Ghana since the ticket was cheaper and saved me money. I crossed the border with Jorge, the husband of one of my closest volunteer friends (he was heading home ahead of his wife), and with one of my best volunteer friends in country, who came just to spend a little more time together before having to say goodbye. I couldn't have asked for better travel buddies. Since Jorge's and my flights weren't until around 11PM, we spent most of the day roaming around the Accra mall. We checked our luggage into the parcels' department at the mall's grocery store and then ate food and watched 2 movies in a row at the upstairs theater until we had to go.
My layover was in Rome, and the flight between Italy and the States was 10 hours long, but luckily I had a great seat-mate (don't you love it when that happens?) who asked such genuine questions about my experience and patiently listened as I pondered the inevitable challenges of my impending transition back to life in America. While I'd been excited to go home for months as I neared the end of my service, it was on that last flight that I began having mixed feelings. I think it finally sunk in that I'd just left my home of 2 years along with my job and my friends - all to go to a place where I'd have nothing besides family for the moment; I was leaving a place with which I'd become completely comfortable to go somewhere else where I was homeless, jobless, and essentially a fish out of water, due to my most recent experience. It was a sobering and somewhat melancholy realization.
But it was so good to see my family at the airport gates. And we all had a nice celebration that evening. Unfortunately I only had one week left with my Dad before he left for his sabbatical year in Japan, so most of my first week home was spent packing up the house to prepare it for the renters who would move in at the end of this week. As for me, I've just recently found an apartment and am now looking for a job. Little by little I will adjust to this life again... until I pack up for my next adventure :-)
Thank you to all who followed my blog throughout these 27 months. I so appreciated your support and encouraging comments. Goodbye for now... A la prochaine! (Until next time!)
Next came saying goodbye to volunteers. During my service, I'd only see some volunteers who lived up-country once every several months. While many of my closest friends made an effort to meet me right before I actually left, I had to start saying goodbye to others who lived further away months before my actual COS (Close of Service) date.
While my last month was filled with goodbyes, the last week was the most intense. It was very important that I personally say goodbye to all of my contacts in village for the sake of not offending anyone - which meant a lot of walking around those last few days. I was touched by how many people from other villages went out of their way to call or come and say goodbye to me too. The nurse, midwife, and pharmacist with whom I'd worked organized a goodbye lunch for me and gave me a thank you gift, teachers with whom I'd worked took me out for drinks out of thanks, and people were constantly flowing in and out of my house over the course of the week to thank me, wish me well, and spend as much time as they could spare visiting with me for the last time. I was moved by everyone's words of appreciation the most; I was grateful for their recognition and appreciation of my work, and touched that so many people were begging me to stay a third year. On the morning I was going to leave, one of my neighbors came by with a live chicken for me as a final thank you gift. Thank goodness for host moms; mine killed it, cooked it, and prepared it as a meal for the trip (it was delicious). Even though she'd already said goodbye twice the day before, my water girl came by one last time that morning with her younger sisters to spend some time with me. (We colored). My host mom was the hardest person for me to say goodbye to. I'd made it through all the other goodbyes without shedding a tear, but as soon as my host mom started crying, I couldn't help but tear up as well. She's one of the people I'll miss the most.
The day I left village happened to be the same day that the older volunteers threw a welcome party for the new volunteer trainees, who had just finished their first one-week visit at post. The party was held at one of the transit houses, where I was stopping through on my way down to Lome. A lot of people were there and it was a fun night of good homemade food, dancing, and good company. A number of my friends stayed up until 4 AM to wave me off when the taxi came to take me down to the capital.
The last few days in Lome were spent primarily in the Peace Corps Bureau. I had a whole checklist of things to get done before I could earn the status of an RPCV (Returned Peace Corps Volunteer). Luckily it wasn't too overwhelming as I had done a lot of the paperwork months beforehand. When I finally finished everything I felt so libearated! My last night in Togo, I went out to dinner downtown at one of my favorite Lebanese restaurants with some of my good friends who happened to be in Lome as well. The owner of the restaurant, who knows me well since I frequent his place so often, filled our table with amazingly delicious Lebanese food for only a fraction of the cost as a goodbye gift. I was so touched by his generosity and we waddled out of there with full bellies.
In heading back to the States, I flew out of Accra, Ghana since the ticket was cheaper and saved me money. I crossed the border with Jorge, the husband of one of my closest volunteer friends (he was heading home ahead of his wife), and with one of my best volunteer friends in country, who came just to spend a little more time together before having to say goodbye. I couldn't have asked for better travel buddies. Since Jorge's and my flights weren't until around 11PM, we spent most of the day roaming around the Accra mall. We checked our luggage into the parcels' department at the mall's grocery store and then ate food and watched 2 movies in a row at the upstairs theater until we had to go.
My layover was in Rome, and the flight between Italy and the States was 10 hours long, but luckily I had a great seat-mate (don't you love it when that happens?) who asked such genuine questions about my experience and patiently listened as I pondered the inevitable challenges of my impending transition back to life in America. While I'd been excited to go home for months as I neared the end of my service, it was on that last flight that I began having mixed feelings. I think it finally sunk in that I'd just left my home of 2 years along with my job and my friends - all to go to a place where I'd have nothing besides family for the moment; I was leaving a place with which I'd become completely comfortable to go somewhere else where I was homeless, jobless, and essentially a fish out of water, due to my most recent experience. It was a sobering and somewhat melancholy realization.
But it was so good to see my family at the airport gates. And we all had a nice celebration that evening. Unfortunately I only had one week left with my Dad before he left for his sabbatical year in Japan, so most of my first week home was spent packing up the house to prepare it for the renters who would move in at the end of this week. As for me, I've just recently found an apartment and am now looking for a job. Little by little I will adjust to this life again... until I pack up for my next adventure :-)
Thank you to all who followed my blog throughout these 27 months. I so appreciated your support and encouraging comments. Goodbye for now... A la prochaine! (Until next time!)
Home!
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4 comments:
THANK YOU for blogging and giving me and my wife a view into the world of a PCV in Togo. (We are powerless to persuade our son, James, to follow your example.) May your transition back to life in the US be happy and smooth.
Krisitna,
It has been our pleasure as well to have gone along with you for the last 2 years. It was especially nice to meet you in person and share a few moments with you when we visited Grant. Terri and I are quite certain that you will be a huge success in whatever endeavor you decide and in any path you chose to take. Our best to you. The people of Togo are better for the great work you have done.
Ron and Terri Rhodes
Ron and Terri Rhodes
Dear Kristina,
What a nice and communicative blog! And how different and better a way to communicate to many people than when I was in Togo in 1966-68. I was a math/science teacher in Lome, then in Baguida, 10 miles away.
You'll never forget or regret your PC experience! All the best,
Gary Collins
I lived in Lome for one year at UB back in 1981. This was pre-Internet and cheap phone calls and my 'blog' was my letter home. My mother recently compiled them into a short book which you might find an interesting glimpse of Togo a generation ago - http://brucelynn.info/BOYS_WILL_BE_MEN.doc. So many things different, so many things the same (after reading your pieces).
Bruce Lynn
London UK
brucelynnblog.spaces.live.com
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