As many people know, I joined the Peace Corps about 26 3/4 months ago. You serve for 27 months, and today was my last day in my site, a place I've never felt more at home. I head to Rabat tomorrow for the check-out process.
I've been saying goodbyes all week and it's been horribly painful, especially because my place of work closed unexpectedly and some people don't even know I'm leaving. Two days ago, I asked when my basketball class was. I burst into tears at the thought of leaving, so I couldn't even answer.
Today's been the worst, with both my host mother and I bawling our eyes out. She brought me cookies and apologized that she couldn't afford to buy me something ... the woman opened her home and heart to me, and she feels guilty. I wouldn't have made it without her, honestly.
I can't bear to think about life somewhere else, and saying goodbye has been hard. The SO-that-wasn't-in-the-plans is a tough one to deal with, too.
But to make it worse, after my host mom and both composed ourselves and to talk about "shar sbah, inchallah" when I'm hoping to return for a visit, I get a text from Peace Corps.
A volunteer who was a year behind me, also working youth development, died today. Although I didn't know her well, I worked with her at camp and she's not only an amazing face painter, she gave me a great haircut.
I am guessing she was about 24. Whatever illness she had was sudden and her family did not make it here, but the Peace Corps doctor was with her.
My service has been rocky, from the beginning when my group got evacuated due to a death in a host family and now I am going out with this. I feel sick.
I am still grappling with the saying goodbyes and lack of closure I've had during the past few months (don't ask). I'm really too much in shock right now to grasp So-youn's death, but please keep me in mind.
Shukron.
kjim
I've been saying goodbyes all week and it's been horribly painful, especially because my place of work closed unexpectedly and some people don't even know I'm leaving. Two days ago, I asked when my basketball class was. I burst into tears at the thought of leaving, so I couldn't even answer.
Today's been the worst, with both my host mother and I bawling our eyes out. She brought me cookies and apologized that she couldn't afford to buy me something ... the woman opened her home and heart to me, and she feels guilty. I wouldn't have made it without her, honestly.
I can't bear to think about life somewhere else, and saying goodbye has been hard. The SO-that-wasn't-in-the-plans is a tough one to deal with, too.
But to make it worse, after my host mom and both composed ourselves and to talk about "shar sbah, inchallah" when I'm hoping to return for a visit, I get a text from Peace Corps.
A volunteer who was a year behind me, also working youth development, died today. Although I didn't know her well, I worked with her at camp and she's not only an amazing face painter, she gave me a great haircut.
I am guessing she was about 24. Whatever illness she had was sudden and her family did not make it here, but the Peace Corps doctor was with her.
My service has been rocky, from the beginning when my group got evacuated due to a death in a host family and now I am going out with this. I feel sick.
I am still grappling with the saying goodbyes and lack of closure I've had during the past few months (don't ask). I'm really too much in shock right now to grasp So-youn's death, but please keep me in mind.
Shukron.
kjim
