Today felt a bit like turning a corner. We have 24 days of training left and have had both our personal assessments by trainers and a mock language test. The assessment was excellent and they even want 10 copies of my book (Moving Your Aging Parents) to begin looking at the aging population in Uganda. This is the first time in history that that health has improved enough to HAVE an aging generation! They consider it a landmark and want to learn about that transition from my book. Ha! I didn’t even bring a copy… The best news was I did not fail my MOCK language test, but the actual one will no doubt be given by someone a bit more hard core I suspect. Still – it is progress.
Scenes like the beautiful Ankoli cattle wandering down the road provide some relief from the stresses of training, but it’s intense. We are all feeling the stresses of living with a family in very confined circumstances, having no control over diet and no personal time. Add to this, culture shock, illnesses, 12 hours of night and no electricity, limited access to communication and a total departure from anything resembling order and it keeps one’s emotions just below the trigger point. Any small thing can and does blindside us.
A lovely, sweet young man volunteer ready to clear out to return home after his two years sat next to me on the ride into Kampala where we attended the American Embassy celebration of the 50th Anniversary of Peace Corps. We spoke about his family and his struggles to define himself and his close relationship with his family, forged through many trials and tribulations. He mentioned that he’d told his mom how much her guidance and patience through the hard years had meant to him, but wasn’t sure she’d really “heard him.” I let him know what a gift that was to parents to hear those sentiments, having heard them from my own sons. He was really surprised at how powerful that was and I realized he needed a mother to tell him how much that meant. For the hour drive back from the party we were surrogate mother and son to each other. And for the entire weekend I was a little tearful, missing my guys. Some are moved to tears by how much the memory of or relationship with their parents and siblings means when you’re half way around the world. E-mail, telephones and mail are the lifelines, and it’s easy to understand how deep friendships are forged quickly with fellow volunteers.
So we are celebrating a bit by having made it half way through training, with no departures. From your perch in the States, that might sound strange, but trust me – this training pushes all the buttons and unravels insecurities. I think it’s designed to – kind of like Chemistry 101 thins the student crop.