Murabeho, mu Rwanda

On November 15, I officially finished my service with Peace Corps and became a Returned Peace Corps Volunteer-- although it will still be a few months before I return home.

During my last two weeks in Rwanda, I tried to write this post, but couldn’t. I thought perhaps some geographical and temporal distance would give me the perspective necessary to neatly summarize the last two years of my life. Maybe more miles and more years will help; for now I can only tell you that two countries and three weeks are not enough.

As a very eager college freshman, I went to the office hours of my assigned adviser in the School of Industrial and Labor Relations. I felt determined to get to know this professor for several reasons: sitting in on his class as a pre-frosh had been a big factor in my decision to attend Cornell; many students had warned me about his rigorous coursework and tough grading; and finally, I had heard he was a Returned Peace Corps Volunteer.

“I heard you did the Peace Corps! Did you like it?!” my enthusiastic, eighteen year old self blurted out to the six-foot-something, square glasses, bow-tie-and-suspender-wearing Ivy League Professor. He closed his eyes and let out a sigh.

“Did I like it? That’s like asking someone if they like breathing. You don’t like it—you just do it.”

At the time, I found the response to be rather odd. Now, after two years in the Peace Corps, I find it to be the most appropriate response to such an absurd question.

There are people, places, tastes, sights, and smells that I have liked—no, that I have loved-- about my Peace Corps experience. My heart aches to think that I will probably never again pester my fourteen year old neighbor Kabebe as to whether or not his mother has eggs to sell me. I will miss the casual nights with friends drinking lukewarm Primus and savoring brochettes. On my last night at post, staring out at the sun setting over the hills facing my “backyard”, I thought perhaps leaving was a mistake after all. Of course, there were many moments throughout the last two years where I had thought of nothing but making it to that last night… but I did it.  

I am so grateful for the amazing opportunities and experiences that the last twenty six months have brought me. From the first rays of sun that so brutally hit my body in Niger, to the mud-caked shoes I scrubbed clean during rainy season in Rwanda—it’s been a trip.

I have learned a lot about myself: that I am an emotional eater, and in times of stress all food items containing large amounts of flour and/or oil should be kept at bay. I’d also like to think that I’ve learned a bit about “the world”; certainly about Rwanda: that development statistics don’t tell the whole story, and that in the face of complete mental, physical, and emotional destruction, people are much more resilient than you’d think. I have learned that I am one of the luckiest people in the world.

And now, it’s time for the next adventure! Over the next four months I plan to travel overland to eight or nine countries—from Kigali all the way down to Cape Town. Various friends are joining me for different parts of the trip, and I’m making several stops along the way to visit other friends and friends-of-friends. The itinerary is very flexible. For the first time in my life, “the next step” is completely blank, but I feel very confident and hopeful about it.

Stay tuned!