Friday, December 2, 2011

America.. here I come?


**This blog was written November 30,2011 the last night in my village before I am gone for a month, I will be in Lusaka (the capital) for a workshop for a week and a half before I fly to America on December 14, I won't return to Zambia until January 5th. It will be the longest I have been away from Zambia and my village since starting Peace Corps 16 months ago. So apologies in advance if it is a bit over dramatic. The village does that to you sometimes.***

I am sitting here in my hut, watching a huge rainstorm that has been building all day over my little village. I just cooked my counterpart our last lunch together for a month, I just packed up all of my clothes under my bed in suitcases ( so my various little rodent friends won't eat them while I'm gone) and although I am leaving my village tomorrow , right now America couldn't seem further away.
I have been counting down this day for months, marking my calendar as the months went by and thinking of all the things that await me at home, but now that the day has come my emotions are mixed. Of course I am so excited to go home, sleep in a bed that doesn't have a rat living above it, eat food without having to substitute dairy products for fake yellow cheese, and to see my family and friends. However part of me will remain here. Part of me will stay with my kids as they draw on my porch ( which is what is happening currently as I write). Part of me will stay with my PC family as they travel to surrounding countries to celebrate the new year. Part of me will stay in my village reading in my hammock and listening to my kids giggle and dance outside my door.
It has been a year and a half since I have left this continent and a year since I have left Zambia (I went to Malawi last new years). It's a weird feeling that is hard to describe even as I try. For example, a baby was just dropped on my porch by one of my iwes. In America this would probably be considered neglect by the parents of said child ( her name is Emma and I have attached a picture), as the iwe in charge of this baby is only 10 years old. However here, it all works. I love that I don't know who emma's mom is and probably won't know as she is probably a women passing through to collect caterpillars ( it is caterpillar season here in Kalaba and people come from all over Zambia to collect them). But for now Emma and I are playing and bonding and getting along quite splendidly and this is normal.
These are the things I worry about going back to the states. I'm worried I'm going to try and hold any baby found anywhere. Grocery store, gas station, restaurant, I will probably try and hold them . Secondly my "famous" status will go on reprieve for the first time since arriving. When I go running, to town or just outside of my house I won't have children screaming my name and calling after me. In an interview with former President Bill Clinton, I heard him say one of the weirdest things to adjust to after finishing his presidency was that they stopped playing a song every time he walked into a room. I feel you Bill.
But with all of the weird changes and social norms I am sure to break, I think I will survive in the end. I'm sure to offend strangers by staring at them blankly ( a social norm I have become accustomed to) or wearing something that was " so 2009" ( which is the last winter I was home). However even with all of it, I can hardly wait. To see my family and friends even for a few short days, weeks, or hours, is worth breaking every rule in the book. So get ready, because here I come!