Two years!

Two years.

730 days.

24 months.

The amount of time since I’ve seen America.

We left Roanoke last year, February 22^nd and flew to Philadelphia to begin our Peace Corps experience. Here we are 2 years ago:

We flew out of New York the night of February 23^rd, overnight and landed in Guyana at 7am on February 24^th. Funny, we missed Mashramani, Guyana’s biggest and most colorful holiday, which takes place on February 23^rd and celebrates the day Guyana became a republic. It is my favorite holiday. We’ll be celebrating tonight and tomorrow, here’s a picture from last year:

As with any overnight flight, we arrived exhausted. As with any time you sign up to leave your home and live in a country you didn’t exactly knew existed a few months ago, we were a bit nervous. We left a bitterly cold winter in New York, frozen on an air-conditioned flight, and stepped off the plane in a tropical paradise. Well, the paved parking lot of the airport in tropical paradise. It was HOT. 7am, and it was HOT. We stripped off layers. We were given coconuts to drink, and Guyana necklaces to wear. Peace Corps staff looked confident and in charge. We were hot, but we felt alright. We took out our very expensive camera to take pictures. The lens fogged up bad. We wiped it off. It fogged up. We wiped it off. It fogged up. (It was HOT). Shoot! We thought, all this money and this place is too dang hot and humid to use it! (Turns out the camera was just cold from the plane. Later it warmed up and all was fine.)

The next few days and months are a blur of Peace Corps training, wilting in the heat, celebrating new holidays, trying to learn Creoles, living on the coast of the Atlantic Ocean, and eating strange food. It was all very Caribbean –the people were descendents of Africans and Indians, loud Soca music, cricket, and colorful homes (Guyana is much more a part of the Caribbean than South America – especially since they speak English). Suddenly, we found out we were going to spend the next two years in a small Amerindian village at the other end of the country. A few miles from Brazil, traditional people, grassy plains, rainforest, mud-and-thatch homes, and football (soccer).

Aishalton feels like South America. Sometimes like Africa. Our training didn’t much prepare us for our site. We didn’t know much about Toshaos (chiefs), Village Councils, traditional law, indigenous people’s rights and land titles. I’ve learned so much! We are further away from the coast than any other volunteers. Peace Corps wanted a married couple to go the most remote village, so we could support each other. Well, we were here. And it didn’t feel like home, not for months.

When we tried to leave Aishalton to pick up our paycheck, we were shocked by the effort and time it took to get transportation. We bounced along unpaved roads on the top of a load of goods. We crossed right through flowing rivers. Over broken bridges. Through puddles as deep as rivers.

When we tried to buy greens to cook for dinner, everyone told us there were none. We scrounged and scavenged, and found greens only a couple times a week. When we suggested new ideas at work, people passed right over them.

Volunteers love giving other volunteers advice. Some said ‘give it 4 months to see if you like it’ others said after 6 months it would feel home-y. Yes, 4-6 months seemed to be how long it took everyone to settle in. I remember Christmas 2009, we were 8 months in, and I didn’t feel settled. What was wrong?

Then January and February 2010. I developed stronger friendships, we found a place in the village to watch movies at night, and people started sharing their farm produce with us. Something clicked. I felt much more comfortable. I found more freedom in my job. It started to feel ‘right.’

Now, we are two years in. We still have 2 more months. I’m trying to stay focused. I’m thankful the grant came though so I’ve been crazy busy working on the Learning Resource Centre. Which is functioning! I’m a librarian! People are reading! Who doesn’t love accomplishment?

When I thought about a ‘we haven’t been in America in two years’ blog, I thought I’d write about all the things I hadn’t had, hadn’t done, hadn’t eaten, and hadn’t seen in two years. But, honestly, I can’t think of very many things. And the few I could think of, I didn’t really want to have them again anyway.

Most volunteers go home once or twice during their service. They go to see friends’ weddings, family births, or for the Christmas feast. We haven’t been home. Mainly for the money – who can afford it?!?! But, also it’s been a fun challenge to go two years without the comforts of America. It has absolutely sucked to miss Lindsay’s wedding, several babies’ births, and especially Christmases, not to mention all the birthdays, holidays, and totally normal days with friends and family. But, hopefully we’ll have long and happy lives to make up for time missed.

So, two years. Have you missed me?