ab Chasing Kate: November 2007

Thursday, November 15, 2007

Wrapping it up. (11-8)

2 years. Approximately 8.3% of my life so far. I’ve used 9 bottles of Kaopectate and only 5 bottles of shampoo. I’ve bathed approximately 240 days out of the last 830 days. That’s about twice a week- sometimes less. The longest I’ve gone without bathing is 17 days. I’ve been on 6 I.V.s – before Peace Corps I was on zero. I’ve had giardia, a bacteria infection, a viral infection and worms at the same time. I’ve almost been medi-vac’ed three times. During winter 2006, I finished season 5 of “24” in 18 hours—that’s without sleeping. I wrote and won 2 grants. I’ve lived with 3 families. I had 20 girls at my summer camp. I taught approximately 250 students in 7 different grades. The longest I consecutively slept was 22 hours. The number of times I’ve cried in the last week totals 13. I leave in 3 days.

I’ve experienced the highest of highs and the lowest of lows. Absolute euphoria and absolute despair. Sometimes at the same time. I wish I had the number on how many marriage proposals I’ve had, how many people I’ve met or how many lives I’ve touched but those numbers are inherently incalculable.

The last Tuesday morning in my village was spent finding someone who could sew. My first go-to-girl was Tot Luba (Aunt Luba), since most Russians can do pretty much anything. I knocked on the door and asked her daughter if her mother knew how to sew, but she disappointingly said no. I enlisted the help of 3 children playing in the street if they could direct me to someone who knew how to sew. No avail. I finally went to one of the small stores in my village and asked a trusted woman to whom I could go. Oh. Right. The purpose of my pilgrimage was to turn a pair of pants into a pair of shorts. She told me to go to Skolnaya Ulitsia “School Street” to find Natasha, the village seamstress. I must have knocked on several fences and doors before I found someone who could direct me to her. I finally found her, introduced myself, brought her my pants and had her tailor them. By the time I was finished she was promising to write me letters in America and to make sure I visited her when I come back.

I thought of this story and how much sense it made to me at the time, then briefly recalled the life I knew back in America and how ridiculous it would seem to randomly knock on people’s doors to see if they could perform a certain skill. And how eager people were to help direct me towards someone who could.

Subsequently, I’ve thought of the absurdity it is that I’m in this village. Imagine you’re a local. Some person, some American, comes to your village, your home, with the promise to “transform” your school and your lives. No wonder we get hassled, strange looks and unwanted attention. Think of how weird it would be for this volunteer, this person, this no one, to come to your home and unrealistically expect them to change it for the better. We, as volunteers, try to impress upon people the ideas we have of positive sustainable change, however challenging that may be. Whether or not that’s our goal is arguable. Whether or not that ideal is attainable is arguable. Whether or not we try to, is personal.


Leaving was close to impossible. It's equally uplifting and heartbreaking to recall my last two years in the country but I know I will return to see my families, friends and students and to see how they've grown, changed and progressed. Some day soon, I hope.