"But 'Me Limpho... Why are you leaving us?"
There are moments when I can't even remember the answer.
The honest truth is that I almost stayed. I had the choice to extend for a third-year of Peace Corps service... And that was the plan for the first +/- 20 months of my service. I knew within the first month of my Pre-Service Training (PST) in Lesotho that I could extend for a third year; that I might want to extend. I have loved my life here. Where others find something to be survived, I find true meaning and purpose. This isn't a pit-stop before I go home and start my "real" grown-up life; this is the life I want. This work comes naturally to me. I've never been happier or more fulfilled than when I was living here.
So, you're probably thinking... Then why ARE you leaving?
Well, when I talked to my students, villagers, and Basotho friends, I told them I'm leaving for my family. It's not the whole truth, but it's also not a lie. Most importantly, it's a reason they can strongly identify with. I tell them I'm needed at home, and that my being here has been difficult for my loved ones. And there is truth to that... I found living away from home relatively easy. With long-distance phone calls, and the miracles of blackberry internet-service, I had email and facebook even out in my rural village. That tiny piece of technology changes EVERYTHING about being here. For me, I might as well have been living a few hours away from my family, rather than 8000 miles away. Distance shrinks with technology.
Yet there are some ways that distance inevitably takes a toll on relationships. The last two years have changed me. It's some kind of Peace Corps myth, the belief that you'll return to the States after two years and will still be the same person. The closer I've gotten to my COS today, the more I realize that there are a hundred little ways that my priorities, personality, and daily habits have shifted. I don't care about the same things I used to. I think about the world differently. I handle stress and emotions in new ways. I am different. And the truth is that my friends and family back home are, too.
In the past two years, I've missed a lot. One of my best friends got married, and another one now has a two-year old toddler, a husband, and is a medical doctor. My sister has started college, and my brother now lives halfway across the country, where he lives in his own house, and has started his military career in the U.S. Army. When I left, my siblings were a teenager and a college student. Now they're two adults. I get texts from my brother, and sometimes I almost don't recognize him. He's so generous, professional, devoutly faithful, and introspective. My father retired from the military and is now a farmer. My mother, who spent the last 25 years as a stay-at-home-mom, has started teaching at a university. Things are not the same... And relationships don't miraculously stay strong. They take work. After two years, mine need some maintenance. I owe the people I love at home some time and attention for a little while.
There's another important reason I'm leaving, but it's more difficult to explain to Basotho. I have loved living in Lesotho, and I know I will return because I have a calling to help people in developing countries... But this is not my path to fulfill that calling. I was not meant to be a high school teacher. I did not love teaching; I loved teaching MY kids. They were what made it special and worthwhile for me. The ugly truth is, however, that I didn't love the work. There's an intellectual part of me that was bored by it. I was a good teacher- a passionate and dedicated one- but I was not extraordinary. Many Basotho could have done a better job than me in the same position.
There's another important reason I'm leaving, but it's more difficult to explain to Basotho. I have loved living in Lesotho, and I know I will return because I have a calling to help people in developing countries... But this is not my path to fulfill that calling. I was not meant to be a high school teacher. I did not love teaching; I loved teaching MY kids. They were what made it special and worthwhile for me. The ugly truth is, however, that I didn't love the work. There's an intellectual part of me that was bored by it. I was a good teacher- a passionate and dedicated one- but I was not extraordinary. Many Basotho could have done a better job than me in the same position.
I have gifts- talents and passions- that aren't being fulfilled or utilized in Peace Corps. I want to help my girls, but being a high school teacher is not reaping the full extent of what I have to offer the world. I know now that I need to finish my education... I'm finally ready to return to school to pursue my MD/PhD. I've struggled with whether it's worth the 5-7 years of my life and hundreds of thousands of dollars. The truth is that anything less than the best I can offer the world- to my girls in Lesotho or other women in developing countries- is a cop-out... Me as a high school teacher is not me at my best. I have a rare gift for the sciences AND social sciences. I'm uniquely suited to this kind of lifestyle abroad. I may not be a Mensa genius, but the past two years have taught me that our society doesn't nearly value social and emotional intelligence the way it should. And I have those gifts in spades. I'm a strong leader. Resilient and a hard worker. I'm meant to contribute to the world in a different way than I am right now. And that means I need to leave for a little while.
Unfortunately, all those rationalities don't make getting in the truck and waving goodbye to my girls in Ha Selomo any easier. I find myself reminding myself WHY I need to go home, because it's difficult to leave behind something that has been so meaningful.
But I'm waking away.... Because I know one day soon, I'll be coming back.
With Love from Lesotho... Mary E. (RPCV, Lesotho 2012-2014)
No comments:
Post a Comment