What.You'll.find.is.Yourself.

I saw into my own future, saw that I would become a woman with many stories to tell. But every story would have its price.
-Mian Mian in Candy

Hello friends and family! Yet another month has come and gone, bringing us ever closer to the end of summer and the beginning of a new chapter in the service of a certain Peace Corps Volunteer. I do hope that this post finds you happy and satisfied with life as it is.

As many of you may know, my time in Salyan has come to an end. I will be departing this site in the not-so-distant future for a new placement that is, as of now, unknown. I must confess that this is something of a sad development, given the fact that I adore my students and cherish the bonds that I have formed with people in this community. In addition, the thought of moving all of my worldly possessions across the country (again) in order to start all over again is both daunting and uncertain. However, every letter, every card, and every photograph will be accompanying me to the new site! While the heat and shear amount of work required for this action made this decision a bit onerous, I am trying to look at it as an opportunity for new adventures, friendships and experiences.

Recent events have made me think of a dispatch sent out by our country director in relation to the high number of “E.T.s” (“early termination” in Peace Corps speak). Every month, volunteers in Azerbaijan receive “staff stuff”—a collection of news, updates, and comments from the permanent staff in Baku. One of the recent installments included a request from the country director: to write a letter to a friend who you know is considering E.T.-ing, convincing them to stay. If I am not mistaken, Peace Corps as a whole has a 40% overall ET rate. While I did not feel moved at the time, inspiration has arrived on swift feet. Whether you are a Peace Corps Volunteer, an invitee, or an interested reader looking for deeper insight into the “real” Peace Corps experience—I probably needn’t inform you that there is no holistic thing—I hope that this proves helpful…

Dear friend,
I cannot know all the reasons why you decided to join the Peace Corps, nor all your reasons for wanting to leave. I know that you have probably already had the “this will ultimately be very good for me to survive” conversation followed ineluctably by the “I have made it this far” and “another year and a half isn’t that long” dialogues. I know that the reasons built up in your head for “staying” versus “going” seem to always balance out cleanly to equal a wash—no matter how you weight the factors. Finally I know that the repeated emphasis on mentality and attitude probably yield more guilt and self-doubt than encouragement to make the right decision for you. In any case, I cannot speculate too much about what is going on in your mind. All I can do is share my experiences in the hope of being helpful...

Ever since I can remember, I wanted to be a Peace Corps Volunteer. In my application’s “aspiration statement,” I discussed my desire to have this specific experience shape my life as I wished it to unfold: active, engaged, curious, and open. In addition, I remember what my parents said about my college education: “we will help you but you will go with the knowledge that you have the responsibility to give something back.” In other words, “do something with your privilege.” As a student of politics, I believed that the work of the Peace Corps encapsulated a response to arguments that conflict is the inevitable lot of an interchangeable set of states and that the business of shaping perceptions were a one-way street. I believed it to be the closest things possible to grassroots diplomacy, the practice of increasing understanding and cooperation between the people of different countries in order to obfuscate the historically cited rationales for violent discord.

Almost a year later, I still believe these things, but with the knowledge that while true, these ideas come with their own prices. I can tell you without a doubt that simply existing here has altered more sectors of my person and life than I can count. A few months ago, I wrote a mass email dispatch about the “practice of development” and my belief that one who lives abroad is often markedly distinct from one who travels abroad. Finding the balance between oversimplifying a place, a community, and a people as either “never as good as home” or “always superior to home” is the goal of the development worker. I have encountered joy here in Azerbaijan. I have looked at students and known that on some level, I managed to touch an individual’s life and by extension, that of the community. I am quite certain that if you look into your time here, you can find instances such as this, simple and elegant. On the other hand, I have experienced extreme loneliness, doubt, and sadness. I have felt isolated by the norms of a community that often seems so unfamiliar and isolating. At the same time, I have been made more aware of my own agency, my own capacity for life. I have been compelled to confront my demons, to grapple with the imperatives related to ideals that I so passionately advocated in college, to realize with very humbling certainty that there will never be a reason to be complacent in my own ability. It sounds good now, but, as Aristotle says, “the process is painful.”

I am sure that these thoughts are not new to you, fellow volunteer and it is certainly not my place to patronize you or affect the decision that you ultimately make. Everyone has different reasons for joining the Peace Corps and only the individual knows when experience has satisfied such standards or has rendered them irrelevant. As it is, I have decided to stay, despite all of the challenges because I still believe that I have work to do. I do not find the goals I set forth satisfied, nor do I ultimately believe that they are now immaterial. In any case, this is my experience. As development workers, we are not granted the luxury of hindsight or the comfort of simplicity—it is our job to sort through the complexity. Whatever your decision, I hope that you utilize any experiences you have because regardless of the amount, your time spent is important for you and more people than you will know.