Today Kazakhstan is celebrating 15 years of having a constitution. America has had a constitution for over 200 years, and the English had a document kind of like a constitution from practically the beginning of time, but Constitution day is a big deal in Kazakhstan. Almaty had fireworks late at night, there was a big parade in Issyk, and everyone got a day off from work except the trainees who still had a 10+ hour day of language and technical sessions.
The wary never rest.
My morning was spent trying to keep my upper body away from everything, especially my shirt, because I had a painful encounter with a wasp. Sunday was laundry day, and because dryers do not exist in Kazakhstan I hung my clothes out to dry. On Monday morning I went to retrieve my clothes from the line. Sometimes bugs like to camp out on drying clothes and usually a good shaking gets rid of them.
So knowing this I shook out my clothes like normal, and then put on my favorite shirt which was just on the line. Little did I know that there was a stubborn wasp that avoided my shaking ritual, and was tucked on the inside of the shirt out of view which I put on.
It was not fun, for me or the wasp.
I started screaming and jumping down as it stung me repeatedly on my stomach, which brought my neighbors to my door because they thought something bad was happening to me. And it was. They totally understood when I told them what happened (or understood that I was totally crazy) and now I have 3 welts on my body that still hurt.
Something that I'm reading:
Fellow Kaz 19 Returned Volunteer Erin Curtis is famous after being featured in an article on CNN by describing issues she encountered adjusting back to America after living in Kazakhstan. In the article, she described my nightmare scenario: struggling with cover letters because of English troubles, being socially awkward, freaking out in stores because of too many choices and all of that stuff. As I get closer to leaving (November 8), I'm sure I'll blog more about how I feel about this, but reverse culture shock is real and it scares the crap out of me.
Showing posts with label readjustment problems. Show all posts
Showing posts with label readjustment problems. Show all posts
Monday, August 30, 2010
Wednesday, June 16, 2010
The nightmare
Scientists say that humans dream every night, but I usually don’t remember mine. Once in a while especially when I’m under a lot of stress, I tend to have vivid dreams. Two nights ago I had a horrible dream that freaked me out.
In my dream, I had just arrived back in the US after finishing Peace Corps. I went to Davenport Iowa, my hometown, and went to my house, where I rang the doorbell. My mother answered, and she was surprised to see me. And then she said in Russian, “Why are you here? This isn’t your home.” In addition to my mother, random people from my past and present also appeared in my dream which made it even weirder. A fraternity brother, a childhood soccer buddy, a roommate from college and even my site mate from Kazakhstan told me that I shouldn’t be in America, and that my place wasn’t there. It was by far the worst nightmare I’ve had in a long time, worse than my nightmares based on this movie which kept me up for 2 days and is the main reason I sleep on my fold out couch instead of my bed.
I think I know the catalyst of my dream. Earlier in the week the Kaz-20’s, the group of volunteers whom I came with to Kazakhstan with in 2008, came one step closer to learning the exact day that we’d be leaving Kazakhstan. All of our names were picked from a hat, and this determined the order of who got to pick what day to leave. As much as I like Kazakhstan, I had been looking forward to this day for a long time. It exceeded my expectations unlike the day during our training when we learned where were going to spend 2 years of our lives. Although volunteers weren’t physically present at the event and were notified by email, it felt more “draft like” to me. Maybe this is because the names were randomly picked out of a hat while our skills, experience, personal interests, language ability, personal preferences and characteristics were used to match volunteers with their organizations and schools.
Out of the 44 volunteers that are left in my group, I currently have the 19th pick to decide when I get to leave Kazakhstan. The dates are somewhere between the 1st through the 12th of November. Because it is common for volunteers to end their service early to start work or to attend grad or law school my number may rise even higher. I may even be one of those people.
With a little bit of math I determined that I have as of today I have a maximum of 150 days before I touch American soil again. It would be less except there is return trip of epic proportions that needs to happen. 150 days sounds so deceptively far away, but yet so close.
On day 151, I’ll have to move on with the next phase of my life. What doesn’t worry me is finding a job, adjusting back to American life or any of that stuff. What worries me the most is finding my place, the best place for me, a place that I can call home.
In my dream, I had just arrived back in the US after finishing Peace Corps. I went to Davenport Iowa, my hometown, and went to my house, where I rang the doorbell. My mother answered, and she was surprised to see me. And then she said in Russian, “Why are you here? This isn’t your home.” In addition to my mother, random people from my past and present also appeared in my dream which made it even weirder. A fraternity brother, a childhood soccer buddy, a roommate from college and even my site mate from Kazakhstan told me that I shouldn’t be in America, and that my place wasn’t there. It was by far the worst nightmare I’ve had in a long time, worse than my nightmares based on this movie which kept me up for 2 days and is the main reason I sleep on my fold out couch instead of my bed.
I think I know the catalyst of my dream. Earlier in the week the Kaz-20’s, the group of volunteers whom I came with to Kazakhstan with in 2008, came one step closer to learning the exact day that we’d be leaving Kazakhstan. All of our names were picked from a hat, and this determined the order of who got to pick what day to leave. As much as I like Kazakhstan, I had been looking forward to this day for a long time. It exceeded my expectations unlike the day during our training when we learned where were going to spend 2 years of our lives. Although volunteers weren’t physically present at the event and were notified by email, it felt more “draft like” to me. Maybe this is because the names were randomly picked out of a hat while our skills, experience, personal interests, language ability, personal preferences and characteristics were used to match volunteers with their organizations and schools.
Out of the 44 volunteers that are left in my group, I currently have the 19th pick to decide when I get to leave Kazakhstan. The dates are somewhere between the 1st through the 12th of November. Because it is common for volunteers to end their service early to start work or to attend grad or law school my number may rise even higher. I may even be one of those people.
With a little bit of math I determined that I have as of today I have a maximum of 150 days before I touch American soil again. It would be less except there is return trip of epic proportions that needs to happen. 150 days sounds so deceptively far away, but yet so close.
On day 151, I’ll have to move on with the next phase of my life. What doesn’t worry me is finding a job, adjusting back to American life or any of that stuff. What worries me the most is finding my place, the best place for me, a place that I can call home.
Friday, January 29, 2010
# 3, 9,11,12,13,15,17,23,24,36,37,38,39,44,46
Although this is a hoot, this isn't mine. The following list has been stolen from so many volunteer's blogs that I don't even know where it originated. It is more geared to a returned Peace Corps Volunteer (I'm only on vacation and will be returning), but I'm posting it because I've been in the US for 3 whole days and I'm already on pace to violate all of these rules by the end of the week.. As much as it sounds stupid, being back isn't all that it's cracked up to be.
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