I write this as an RPCV. That's weird to say, much less to think about. Twenty six months ago, I arrived in Baku, Azerbaijan, without any real idea of what the next two years of my life would be like. These past two years have exceded, smashed and otherwise baffled any and all attempts at forming expectations. Two years are hard to predict (as long as you're not Nate Silver), and these past two years have certainly been filled with the unexpected. There have been tears and frustration, but also cheers and celebration. And I wouldn't have it any other way. During our exit interviews, most everyone is asked by the country director what we would do differently in our service. I could not think of a single thing. Sure, there were parts of my service that were difficult, there were times when I wanted to run off screaming and never come back or rip off the head of the next person that crossed my path. But all of the difficult experiences of the past two years (never mind the past twenty five years of my life) were a specific, informative, and important part of my service, without which I would be a different person now. And so I take it all. The good, the bad, the ugly, the beautiful.
My service ended in an emotional place, as do most peoples'. Saying goodbye is never easy, of course. Peace Corps phases us out over the course of a month, with five people leaving three or four days each week. In my life, I have been the person that leaves and the person that is left, and while both are difficult, I will take leaving every time. I was in the third week of COSes and while I knew and was happy for the people, many of whom were my closest friends, it became increasingly lonely in Ismayilli without them in country. I found myself reaching for my cell phone to call or send a message and realizing that they couldn't receive it.
But of course, eventually, I was also the one who was leaving. Saying goodbye to my school was relatively easy, as the week preceding my departure was autumn break, and there were no classes. Before the break, my school director and some teachers organized a small party and bought a cake, which was both figuratively and literally sweet. I finally got around to purchasing the apple tree saplings that we decided to plant at school after the students won the Earth Week art contest. The logistics of that purchase and delivery to school was enough to ease the departure a bit.
Much harder was the process of saying goodbye to my host family (and my puppy). I still vividly remember arriving in Ismayilli and meeting my host father at the park near my home, wondering who this strange man was, and trying to find my place in their home over the next few months. Now, two years later, I feel like a member of their family, their third son (and fourth child, counting a former PCV that lived with them as well). As a present, I gave them an electronic photo album with a flash drive of all the pictures I've taken of the family from my service. We then spent the evening looking through the pictures, remembering each event that we shared.
A few days before I left Ismayilli, I celebrated my birthday. I have now been fortunate to have had three birthdays in Azerbaijan, each one special in its own way. The first fell during PST, and the other volunteers from Xirdalan all came over and they cooked a fantastic spaghetti meal that we had been craving since we arrived. My second was a small dinner (well, small in number of people, large in amount of food) with my host parents, and my host mother baked me a fantastic cake. This third time was also with the host family, and my host brother made a special trip out to Ismayilli to share it with me. The day after my birthday, a number of the boys from the Ismayilli softball team stopped by to wish me well, and one of them surprised me with a framed photo collage of pictures he'd copied from Facebook of the team.
As it is Thanksgiving, and while I sit alone in a hostel in Istanbul, I know that I have been fortunate in my life. I would not have completed my Peace Corps service without the friends and family I have found in this country, nor those back home who I still love and am excited to see again in just a few weeks. I am immensely thankful for you all. Happy Thanksgiving and Cox Sag Olun.
My service ended in an emotional place, as do most peoples'. Saying goodbye is never easy, of course. Peace Corps phases us out over the course of a month, with five people leaving three or four days each week. In my life, I have been the person that leaves and the person that is left, and while both are difficult, I will take leaving every time. I was in the third week of COSes and while I knew and was happy for the people, many of whom were my closest friends, it became increasingly lonely in Ismayilli without them in country. I found myself reaching for my cell phone to call or send a message and realizing that they couldn't receive it.
But of course, eventually, I was also the one who was leaving. Saying goodbye to my school was relatively easy, as the week preceding my departure was autumn break, and there were no classes. Before the break, my school director and some teachers organized a small party and bought a cake, which was both figuratively and literally sweet. I finally got around to purchasing the apple tree saplings that we decided to plant at school after the students won the Earth Week art contest. The logistics of that purchase and delivery to school was enough to ease the departure a bit.
Much harder was the process of saying goodbye to my host family (and my puppy). I still vividly remember arriving in Ismayilli and meeting my host father at the park near my home, wondering who this strange man was, and trying to find my place in their home over the next few months. Now, two years later, I feel like a member of their family, their third son (and fourth child, counting a former PCV that lived with them as well). As a present, I gave them an electronic photo album with a flash drive of all the pictures I've taken of the family from my service. We then spent the evening looking through the pictures, remembering each event that we shared.
A few days before I left Ismayilli, I celebrated my birthday. I have now been fortunate to have had three birthdays in Azerbaijan, each one special in its own way. The first fell during PST, and the other volunteers from Xirdalan all came over and they cooked a fantastic spaghetti meal that we had been craving since we arrived. My second was a small dinner (well, small in number of people, large in amount of food) with my host parents, and my host mother baked me a fantastic cake. This third time was also with the host family, and my host brother made a special trip out to Ismayilli to share it with me. The day after my birthday, a number of the boys from the Ismayilli softball team stopped by to wish me well, and one of them surprised me with a framed photo collage of pictures he'd copied from Facebook of the team.
As it is Thanksgiving, and while I sit alone in a hostel in Istanbul, I know that I have been fortunate in my life. I would not have completed my Peace Corps service without the friends and family I have found in this country, nor those back home who I still love and am excited to see again in just a few weeks. I am immensely thankful for you all. Happy Thanksgiving and Cox Sag Olun.
