Why in the world....

Moving home, well, sucked.  As I'm sure you can imagine.  Of course the physicality of moving was unpleasurable- it was hot as balls, moving down three flights of stairs, and don't forget the 13ish hours it took to drive home- but then there is the actual fact of departing form the city I called home for the last 5 years.  It didn't really hit me that I do not have a return date for DC until I got home, unpacked the truck, and started putting things in their resting place.  As I began to put things in their places Mom said to me, "This is your room, you can decorate it however you want," and my heart stopped for a second.  This is not my room, nor ever really was.  It was my sister's room before I went to boarding school and then it was "the girls room" for when we came to visit.  And I am not moving in, I do not live in Michigan, I'm just visiting and storing my things here while I live abroad.  I'm still in transit.  I love you Mom, and I appreciate the sentiment, but I stopped living in Michigan 9 years ago.  There will be no decorating, unless the best way to keep my photos safe are on your wall.  That is when I fully realized that I also no longer live in Washington D.C.  

One of the most challenging parts about being back in Michigan, I find, is that I constantly have to defend my decision to join the Peace Corps.  I joined my grandmother for the annual Memorial Day BBQ at our neighborhood pond (it's not your typical pond, it's a small lake that is been turned into a beach and use-to-be tennis club).  Nany is the president and has singlehandedly run the place for years, plus I spent everyday of my summer up there as a child and then was a lifeguard, so I've known most of the families there pretty much my whole life.  Not only that, but I baby-sat their kids everyday for 3 summers when I was a lifeguard.  I was shocked at the overwhelming negative response I received when I replied to their queries of what I'm doing now.  I was surprised by many peoples general lack of knowledge of what the Peace Corps actually is/does.  But what really threw me is the constant question "Why in the world would you want to do that?".  The first time I was asked this, a couple weeks ago, I was so caught off-guard that I was speechless.  I guess that DC and the people I surround myself with there are so NGO or humanitarian (or liberal?  what ever you want to call it) friendly that motivation was never a question, it was a given.  I don't really understand not wanting to join the Peace Corps, if you had the opportunity.  I can't understand not wanting to live abroad for a period of time, learning a new culture, walking in someone else's shoes, learning how they life.  These people are going to have a wealth of knowledge and skill sets that are totally different form the American knowledge bank, and I don't know why you wouldn't want to tap into that.  I don't know why you wouldn't want to learn 2 other languages, if you had the chance.  And I cannot imagine, for the life of me, not wanting to assist a community in making a positive difference (hopefully).  I'm not sure exactly where I'll be living or in what conditions or even exactly what I'll be doing (isn't that the exciting part?), but I know that this village has requested a volunteer and they have a need, and as a health volunteer that need could potentially save a life.  I am willing to fill that need as best I can.  Wouldn't you?

Apparently not.  As soon as I mention I am going to West Africa people sigh and say "good luck..." like I was trying to make pigs fly or going to go stand in the middle of a war zone.  I know the Peace Corps is not for everyone, and that not every PCV could handle a placement like mine, but peoples blatant lack of appreciation (and, sometimes, approval) for what I am doing gets tiring, especially, occasionally, from my own family members.  I know that all my basic needs will be met and I'm about to embark on an incredible experience, and that's good enough for me.