Before I woke up, I was in Africa. Not Niger specifically, but I was a volunteer again. I was wearing bright fabric and taking six-hour long bush taxies to visit other Americans. In my dream, it was hot and dusty but I was happy. I was where I wanted to be.
My eyes opened and slowly adjusted to reality. There was a roof over my head and my body sprawled across a warm bed. I was still in the waiting phase. When I saw ‘Peace Corps’ in the from column of my inbox, I thought maybe this was it. The medical clearance that would finally move me along to return to the life I had, the one I want. But it was a confirmation that the wait is still on and an end can’t be seen.
From the day we were told about the evacuation, the words “It will all work out it” and “Everything happens for a reason”were thrown at me as a piece of hope. I sunk my teeth into it and used it as justification for each event in the last four months. I practiced the pateince I developed in Niger and held on, beliving something will come along.
But I am not as patient as I thought I was and with another hurdle in my way my hope tank is on empty. As more and more of my Peace Corps friends are being reassigned I can’t even find a summer job. I just want a break and I can’t seem to get one.
The faith I had is running out. Is it really being OK? Why do I have to go through all of this? Is this really what I should be doing?
I’ve realized how dramatic I’ve been over this. Life could be much, much worse. Yet, it scares me not to have a plan. It scares me that this may not work out.
A friend asked me if I would look for jobs in Sioux Falls if Peace Corps Part 2 didn’t work out. As snippy as you can be through text message, I told him that I wasn’t beacuse it would.
To be honest, I don’t have a plan B. I don’t want to find a job or go back to school. I want to be a Peace Corps Volunteer, but for some reason, my stars aren’t alighning. Does that mean it’s time to throw up the white flag? If I do, then what? I don’t want to stay here but I don’t know where to go.
When I read my email this morning, it was ranning. It has now stopped and the sun’s ray filter into my room. Maybe that’s the sign I need that sunshine during my storm is coming. I may have enough hope left to believe that.