Killer Cars

I was bored out of my mind, sitting in my chair listening to my sports history professor babble another anecdote he pulled out of his ass. It was 3:10 on a Thursday afternoon, and there was still 20 minutes to go in the class that was to be my last gen ed at UNH. I never really paid attention anyways, and spent most of my time looking around the room for signs of life. The next sign although, would change my whole day.

Next to me was another student who was rummaging with her phone. It gave me a little heads up to check up on my phone, because all this week I have been checking it for missed calls/messages every 2 seconds. This time though, in the middle of sports class, I would get one of both. My placement officer from the DC headquarters tried calling me, and I was in class convenient enough for me to miss it. I silently said ‘fuck’ out loud and was now itching to hurriedly get outside and hear the message. Class ends, and I’m sprinting out the door. I impatiently call the number back, even though I am powerwalking as fast I can with a drag in my voice. I get no response, but left a message that I would be waiting for a call soon.

My placement officer calls me back when I am back in my apartment. We go over some things; he’s got a couple of questions to ask me. The first one was asking me if I was sure I could leave in July. A gimme question of its sort, but at stated on my original paper application, I was still noted as preferring August. I mention that July was fine if it helped my chances of getting in, something I iterated to my regional officer back in January. He was cool with my answer, as he was just reassuring I was ok with a July placement.

The next question was just as simple. My officer asked me if I had any experience in computer/technology hardware because I didn’t mention any in my resume. I responded that I didn’t put any hardware in my resume because I didn’t do any professional work, just personal. He asked me if I ever did upgrades or built a computer. My response was that he can be self assured on this question because I taught myself how to build a computer with nobody to assist me.

With that last answer, he saw no reason not to give me an invitation. I shake my head for a second and ask him to repeat what he just said. He was basically inviting me as we were speaking over the phone. I did not think being notified over the phone of invitation was possible, but I guess I had these questions to surprise me and talk with him personally.

It still didn’t hit me correctly, so I still had him repeat it several times.

“Does this mean I can pass on the good news?”

“Yes it does, you are an invitee now.”

“It’s giving me a moment to settle in here, could you say that again.”

A 5 minute phone call actually lasted 16. I must have had him repeat my official invitee status 4 times. An invitation packet in the mail was expected sometime next week. It would have my assignment information along with country details. Later on, I give a call to my friends, and then a call home to my parents. My mom isn’t too excited that I am definitely going to Africa, even though I should not have mentioned to her that I would possibly going to Asia.

The next morning she tries to convince me not to go, although this time I think she tried to pull up the race card. Because this time, she very insisted in me getting a well paying job. She was gung ho on me going back a month ago, but now she had strict doubts that I can make it in Africa. There is nothing she can do to stop me though. Once I accept my invite, I am finally free from my parents. Although the most I ask of her is some attic space.

I was really excited for the next day or so, but then focused on trying to narrow down any choices for my country assignment. I had 2 guesses, The Gambia or Cape Verde. Both were leaving in July, and for the longest time, I thought I had it in for The Gambia. My nomination back in January mentioned that I would be in an english speaking country, and I just tried to follow my instinct on that one. I did research for about an hour on The Gambia, before realizing I should try Cape Verde. I had little luck, but oddly thought, the idea of learning Portuguese on a remote island enticed me.

I was out late working on a paper on Monday evening (I was invited last Thursday). I imagined that my packet would take an extra day considering Sunday was the day before, so I was surprised to see that I had a package waiting in my mail bin at school. The mail office just barely closed at 9:02 and I knocked on the door pleading that I get my package. Whoever was working was nice enough to give me my invitation packet, which they have been holding after hours. I was so relieved that I didn’t have to wait till the next morning.

Holding on to my packet, I walked into my building and hit the button for the elevator. I used this time to open my package and find out my country assignment. All day I was hoping that I no longer get The Gambia and get Cape Verde, the country I just started researching the night before. Ironically, I did indeed get into Cape Verde, a huge change in direction that I originally thought. A huge wave of relief shot over my head. I have been waiting for this day since I first started applying in October. It was over.

Of course I read over my assignment and country booklet from cover to cover. It glamorized service in Cape Verde and gave me my next steps. I was really all excited on going to this country and was now looking for any negative points. I had 10 days to decide on accepting or declining my invitation. My parents were a little more considerate the next time I called them when I mentioned that I would not be living in mainland Africa in an extremely poverished nation. They finally accepted, or I was given the impression of.

I spent the rest of the week focusing on trying to convince myself not to go. This was necessary to test my fortitude on really wanting to accept this invitation. While Cape Verde seemed like a good country at first, in my Peace Corps materials, it was soon before I got into all the details about its dark side. Certain issues such as harsh treatment of women, stories of rape, high numbers of alcohol abuse, almost persuaded me to think Cape Verde would be a bad choice for me. However I corresponded with a fellow accepted invitee and she mentioned that the stories I have been reading are partially fabricated. And while Cape Verde is a nice country, every country that the Peace Corps works with, has got its own problems. I needed to hear this because I wanted to know what got her to accept her invitation before I accept mine. By Saturday, I made up my mind that I would accept my invite, and that nothing would stop me.

With success comes great guilt. Success in the Peace Corps, at my age, the most fun years of my life, can come like a double edge sword. This is probably the only feeling of guilt that was accompanied with a sense of success. I spent most of the next day, Sunday, feeling extremely guilty that I finally decided to live overseas in Cape Verde, away from my friends, family and any other problem I could not fix. You may not understand it, but it is something I wrote about earlier.

Problems. Everybody has got them like issues, and every single problem I have that I didn’t fix came to haunt me all in one day. Virtually all of Sunday was a nonstop guilt trip of every problem that I would be walking away from when I get on that plane heading away from the United States. What could I possibly be guilty of leaving?

I am guilty of feeling like a nomad. I’ve moved from town to town, part of which is my fault when I decided on going to an out of state college. I graduated from Cranston, but I only spent less than a decade there. Previously I lived in the next town over, Providence, RI. And now I go to school in NH. With completely different friends. If I get into the Peace Corps, I am again leaving a circle of friends to go find new ones, like a nomad who is destined to walk the earth. I am sick of trying to fit in, even though I am the one trying adjusting myself to everybody else’s stereotypes. Sadly the truth hits me that I’ve only felt this since I came to college here, in redneck NH. And that I have to suck up any racial jokes and never fit in until I move to a diverse US city, maybe NY because I was yearning for it for so long. Well, I am walking away from that too. As if being an American in a third world country is any easier. But I can never settle, I have to keep moving. I’ve waited a lifetime to do this. And there is so much more giving and seeing to do. I can always return home.

I am guilty of feeling like I am dropping my love life. Or lack of. Why don’t you try renaming my love life “My attachment to anybody willing to spend more time with me than myself”? It suits the bill more, and now there’s this feeling of being content with being single, even though I used to hate it so much. And then there’s the guilt that any feeling I have for somebody, and everything that I did to maintain these feelings, will have to be dropped. They will not be picked up again for quite some time. And that it feels like everybody has got someone besides me. And I remind myself that despite all the time I spend focusing on keeping myself happy, I would happily give that up, if the right person asked to run away with them. I can be completely submissive and selfless, if I want to be. Now, this has to wait.

I feel guilty of running away from my parents. As if getting as far from them as possible would make me feel like we are closer than ever before. That they might not ever feel proud of me because they don’t understand this ‘call of duty’ but in my mind, I am trying my hardest to make them happy. That if nothing changes 10 years from now, it’s a safe notion that I tried for their pride even thought they might not ever understand what I am doing. Maybe a good solution would be a possible trip to the home country. Live for a couple of months, struggle on my own and see what life was like for them. Maybe be able to talk to them without broken Khmer and their broken English.

Am I running away from what keeps me happy? That any happiness attained currently is for completely superficial selfish reasons. For instance, every so often I get so bored with partying that I keep trying to find something new. Then when I do party it is like it is never old and I enjoy it way too much. For an introvert who spends alot of time reading and listening to music I enjoy partying way too much. That I do enjoy drinking into oblivion and acting an idiot and not feeling guilty. And then apologizing and asking for sympathy in some type of PR move in my weblog. I felt guilty that I was becoming more and more selfish of myself, but now I feel guilty that I am dropping myself in a situation where I have to find what makes keeps my time pleasurable.

Am I running away from immaturity, something college seems to encourage. Everybody’s got several more years to be immature, yet I wanted to leave college because it was holding me back from maturing. And now it seems I’m walking right into professionalism. A job which nobody is going to treat me like a recent college grad. Part of wanting to get out of college was the immaturity and the lack of progression. Now, I can no longer get these years back. It’s like I am skipping out on my 20s completely.

Surprising or not, these problems didn’t come creeping in my head the next morning. They were there in the back of my head, knowing that they had to be fixed when I get back. But I was now in accepted invitee mode, and was waiting for the time to call in and accept my invite. I finally got the time in the afternoon to call the DC office. “Alright, I’m in.” I was so nervous that I stuttered over the phone. I even had trouble recalling back my assignment details, because I spent most of my time trying to research the country over anything. But, whatever I spit out worked, and I was now an official invitee. He mentioned my next steps, and to look out for my staging details to come soon. The relief didn’t seem to feel good, and it didn’t seem to feel real either. The call ended, and I just went on with my day like any other.

The feeling of finally being one of ‘them’ still did not hit me until I started on my forms. I first worked on my passport form for my no-fee passport, and under occupation, I put ’student’. Under employer, I put ‘University of NH’. But when I got to my Visa application for Cape Verde, some fields were already filled in. The fields for occupation and employer were filled in with: ‘Peace Corps Volunteer’, ‘US Peace Corps’. It was then that I realized that I am no longer a student, at least not for long.

I trashed my passport application and printed off a new one. I kept the same fields as previous and focused on the new blank occupation and employer fields. ‘Peace Corps Volunteer’, ‘US Peace Corps’. I had one last look back at all the problems I was walking away from, and I thought, these problems have to wait for now. I am a Peace Corps Volunteer first. The guilt of my success, passing through me, one last time.

And from then on, I officially felt like ‘one of them’. I work for them now. Time to spread the good news and look forward to packing… for real this time.

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