Holes

And just like that, it ends.  When I walk out of the Peace Corps office today, I won't be a volunteer, twenty-six and a half months in Peace Corps Albania, ended.   I've been saying goodbye for three weeks.  My life is a mesh of holes.  When the new volunteer came to visit two weeks ago, I introduced her to more than 50 people in three days, and those were the ones she would want to know the names of from the beginning.  Last week, I said goodbye to those people and more.  Now, I'm saying goodbye to the Peace Corps staff and volunteers as I see them, leaving holes.

I have had some poetic beginnings and endings.  The same volunteer I roomed with at staging in Philadelphia, I roomed with now at the end.  She left at 3am for the airport.  We ate her last dinner at Serendipity, the restaurant at which I ate my first meal in Tirana.  Four other volunteers from my group were there.  I said goodbye to three (and said goodbye to them again this morning).  Clearly, I'll see some of these people again.  Skype, Facebook, and email have made the world smaller but not small enough, and so I have holes.

Two of the volunteers made postcards that have an Albanian expression, roughly translated it's,"Mountains don't meet, but people meet one day."  It's not forever, and even with all my holes, I feel like more of a complete person than when I arrived two years ago.  It's time to move on and start filling those holes.  My life will never be the same, but I wouldn't want it to be.

All Er Nothin'

Have you ever noticed you're doing everything or nothing?  Cruising, cruising, cruising, BAM! everything: closing out a grant, helping a TOEFL teacher find materials online, hosting a visiting volunteer, going to goodbye dinners and lunches with Mon, going to Durres to speak to the trainees, saying goodbye to Mon from Tirana, hosting my replacement, helping her meet the community, and now, saying goodbye myself.  All of the sudden I remember what it was like to leave the US.  Thank goodness I don't move more often or have more friends.  You'll rarely hear that, but who could take this very often?

I'm entering the zone of packing and teary eyes.  I have one week and one day left in Delvine.  It's unbelievable and stressful.  Maybe I'll let you know how it goes-- next week.  Now, let's talk more about everything.  Common questions now are why I'm leaving and what's next.  For once in my life I have an answer.  First, I'm traveling in the Balkans.

Albania   Tirana close of service              May 28  
Albania   Thethi,Valbona & Bajram Curri
Kosovo
Albania    Fierza-Koman ferry trip 
Croatia    Dubrovnik
Bosnia    Sarajevo
Croatia    Zagreb
Hungary  Budapest
Serbia     Belgrade
Bulgaria   Sofia
USA       Washington DC                        July 3
USA       Jonesboro, AR                         July 7
Approximate Map

Finally, it all comes down to this.  I'm beginning graduate school for environmental policy in August at Indiana University.  Who knew, right? BAM! Everything.

Not Quite Average

Each year the average American eats 31.4 lbs of cheese, makes charitable donations totaling $4,623, and produces about 1,600 pounds of trash.  Two-thirds of Americans admit to reading in the bathroom.  Roughly 54% of men admit to swearing at least a few times per week. Most have cell phones, and about 50 percent believe it should be a legal requirement for a married woman to take her spouse's last name. The average American is also more loyal to his/her favorite soft drink, television show, or car brand than to his/her employer.  I like cheese.  I produce trash.  I sit a lot.  I don't think women should be required by law to change their names, but in many ways I'm average.

Yesterday, a going away party reminded me how extraordinary my Peace Corps experience is.  Mon is heading out of Delvine tomorrow, and Friday, the whole high school threw her a party.  I was working, so I missed her grand entrance where I imagine she received a standing ovation and a banner she showed me later that read, "Never forget us because we will never you."  Then, Mon called me and asked me to come.  As I came up the stairs, I received my first personal standing ovation.  The students stood up and cheered.  I know it was a party for Mon, and to be fair, the science teacher and the city's education director also arrived to cheering, but it still felt awesome.

Mon received a certificate for her work, and the education director presented her with an eagle statue, which happens to be a symbol of America and Albania.  During her party, it occurred to me how rare this experience is.  Clearly, the average American is not a current or former Peace Corps volunteer, and  a country of Peace Corps volunteers would-- one be empty and two have economic difficulty.  However, I am a Peace Corps volunteer, and the experience is unforgettable.  It's quite likely that I will never again will enjoy the level of recognition and celebrity that comes with being a volunteer foreigner in a small city.  As much as I wish everyone in town didn't know my constant whereabouts and call all Mon's friends when she didn't answer her phone after taking Benadryl and a nap one afternoon, I actually like the recognition.  It keeps life interesting when simply sitting in a park to read creates a buzz.  In many ways I am the average American, most of us are.  I like cheese.  I sit a lot, but I like not being a completely average American

The End is Near

Earthquakes, financial crises step back.  I am closing service in four weeks.  The countdown calendar has been made, not because I'm so anxious but because there's so much to do.  Mon is leaving in two weeks, which means this week is goodbye before she heads up to Tirana for meetings and medical examinations.  What?  Yes, it all begins now: goodbyes to colleagues and friends, American and Albanian.

Last night, I got back from a visit to my training site and host family, one last trip with the Goca e Shtermenit (The Shtermen Girls, my training group).  Three of the four of us came.  We visited all our host families, ate a village lunch, and saw the ostriches one last time.  Shtermen is a special village.  It's famous for frog legs and weightlifters, but it also has an ostrich farm and Chinese radio towers manned by, well, Chinese.  It's such a small place to have an international presence and so many unusual things.

In Shtermen, I found my host family had finally opened their Internet cafe.  My host sister, who is in high school, is engaged, and my host mother is concerned about my prospects.  If I ever exceed expectations and snag a man, she is planning on coming to my wedding.  My host father is going back to Italy to make some money.  My host brother has outgrown me and both of his parents.  Two girls about my age also had news.  One is pregnant with her second child, a girl.  The other has finally found work, not in her field of study, but work.  I couldn't have asked for much more from the visit, and I followed it by returning to Elbasan and eating dinner at an extraordinary Greek restaurant with the Shtermen girls.

Now, the end begins with coffees, dinners, cocktails, Cinco de Mayo with volunteers, and packing.  I remember being alone in my apartment when I first arrived, and I had this overwhelming feeling of the last time I would be in the apartment.  It was empty then, and the next time it would be empty would be the end, and the time is almost here.

I've learned a lot being in Peace Corps and Albania.  Some things are silly, like measuring distance in time instead of miles or kilometers.  Some are essential, like wearing rubber soles while operating my stove.  Some I won't need when I get back, like always talking to the electrical company before scheduling an evening event.  Some I can't put into words, and I only hope come with me back to the States.