Feelin' the Love: Part 3 of 3

The next day I went for an hour long swim, which felt great, and then Cheryl told me there was a folk festival on the national Mall that opened that day.  I thought it sounded great.  Cheryl, Lauren, Ian and I hopped on the subway and headed into the city.  This folk festival was so cool.  It was divided into three major sections.  The first was a Columbian section, which had workshops on various forms of dances, performances by different people, Columbian food, and a ton of tents filled with people making things typical to that culture, either that are used regularly like hats or baskets, or things needed for various trades like fishing.  They had flown in Columbian natives to participate in the festival, including three Shamans who did a kind of question and answer thing about their lives for an audience.  It was fascinating. 

            The second chunk of the festival was Motown-y and funk music.  There were two tents set up with separate performing groups singing away to a crowd of people.  The music was stuff I recognized from old CDs my dad would play in the car.  Pretty impressive musicians.

            The last part, and most fascinating to me, was the hold third section of the festival, which was the Peace Corps. There were a lot of elements to this part.  There was something called the “World Stage”, where they had various dancers from around the world perform.  We watched for a while as dancers in traditional dress from Botswana danced and sang on the stage.  I thought it was so cool that they had flown these people over here for this.  They definitely could not speak English, but it didn’t matter.  A peace corps volunteer from Botswana seemed to have arranged the whole thing, and served as an interpreter and explained the various dances.  At the end of their show, he had the kids come up for the dancers to teach them a traditional dance that was done around the fire, which was basically a conga line with a cool beat, or so he said.  It was wonderful to see all these American children mixed in with the Botswanan dancers.  At the end a mother went up to take pictures and gave one of them a hug.  They couldn’t communicate verbally but everyone was smiling.  I think because I am about to be part of the Peace Corps, the moment really touched me.  I was struck hard for the first time by the true potential for expanding and improving international relations, cultural understanding and appreciation, and the link these two primary entities have to peace.  I think that moment made me proud of the organization in a way I hadn’t been close enough to feel before, and I felt more aware of the honor it truly is to have been chosen for service.  I suppose I probably also needed some distance from the application process for me to feel those things, and my job has been a good distraction. 

            We walked away from the World Stage tent and I saw a tent with a bunch of walls underneath it will labels at the top.  The tent was called “RPC Village”, which I interpreted to mean “Returning Peace Corps Village”, as in Returning Peace Corps Volunteer.  I asked my friends to wait and I went running over to the tent.  There were these tripod walls that on every face had a country written at the top, and each wall functioned as a bulletin board where you could pin up cards to the wall that had your name, your years of service, a message, your contact information, and your specific role.  I went tearing around looking for Peru and I finally found it.  Two people had already been to the wall that day and had served in Peru in the 60s.  They wrote things like “Vive Peru!” on their messages.  I thought that I should post something too so I did and stuck it on the wall.  It felt good to be so physically a part of the Peru legacy and that community of volunteers.  I took a picture and went to find my friends. 

There was a whole other section of the Peace Corps part that had tents from countries all over the world with people making things typical to their country.  They had a Mongolian cooking tutorial, which changed to a different country every hour or so, there were people making wine from grapes, little kids were literally putting on rain boots and stomping around in a wooden trough.  We watched as people wove baskets, molded clay into sculpture, spun wool, sewed beautiful fabrics, and weaved cloth designs.  We found the Peruvian tent, where they wore colorful clothes and short, animated women sat on the ground with half woven designs in their laps.  I listened closely as someone started up a conversation with a woman working on a design, and was pleased to find that she spoke Spanish very clearly without a confusing or muddled accent.  I understood everything she said!  That was such a relief!  I felt excited.  I’m going to understand them.  I’m going to be ok.  My Spanish will come back. Maybe someone will teach me to weave? What is my host family going to be like?  Are they going to be as animated as these women?  Will I have a host grandmother in the house also? I giggled to myself, they going to think I’m a giant.  I should probably prepare myself to be a mammoth.

Adjacent to their tent there was a seating area facing a little platform where people were talking, and when I paid closer attention, I found out that someone’s host family from I don’t know where had come all the way here.  There were TONS of them!  Fourteen or so, I want to say.  How great is it that they came all this way? 

As we walked out of the Peace Corps section of the festival I felt warm. I felt excited that I was part of a community, that I belonged to something that great, that I was going to make a home with people so different than anyone here, that what I had admired and thought beautiful was going to be my reality in such a short time.  I felt ready. 

Before we left the festival, we wandered into what was labeled “the Marketplace”, where things were sold from all over the world.  There were two young women at a table in the middle of the marketplace and they had these really retro, cool mini posters that said “Peace Corps” on it and had a cool picture.  I really wanted one, so I walked up to the table and asked if I could have one.  The conversation went a bit like this.

Me: “Heyyyyy, uh, do you mind if I take one of those?” I said pointing at the cool retro poster.

Girl #1: “Absolutely!  Take one.”

Me: “I just love the design!  I’m actually already doing the Peace Corps but I really wanted one!” I said, picking one up off the table and looking closer at it.

Girl #1: “Oh really!? Have you gotten an invitation?”

Me: “Yeah, I leave in September.”

Girl #1: “Great!  Where are you going?”

Me: “Peru.”

Girl #1: “No way! I’m the home office coordinator for Peru.”

Me: “Seriously?!”

Girl #1: “Yeah!  You’re doing health related stuff right?”

Me: “yeah, I’ll be a Community Health Promoter.”

Girl #1: “That’s great!”

Girl #2: “You’re so lucky!”

Girl #1: “Yeah, Peru is one of the best places to volunteer.  I mean, I volunteered in Nicaragua, which was great, but Peru is the best.”

Girl #2: “yeah, everyone who volunteers in Peru is so excited about it and always has the best time!”

Me: “Well that’s always good to hear!”

Girl #1: “So do you feel ready?”

Me: “Well, yes and no.  I have a full time job this summer so I haven’t been able to spend too much time preparing but I am really excited to go and I feel pretty emotionally prepared…”

Girl #2: “It’s probably better that you are so busy with your job.  It will keep you sane rather than just waiting and torturing yourself.”

Me: “Yeah, I figure there is only so much I can know since we don’t know exactly where we will be stationed.”

Girl #1: “Better to be distracted for sure, just read the stuff we sent you!”

Me: “Oh yeah, of course!  Well thank you so much for the poster, and it was awesome to meet you!”

Girl #1: “It was great to meet you too!  I’ll see you at staging in September!”

Me: “See you then!”

I shook both their hands and walked away.  The first thought that bubbled up through the warm haze I felt at having had such a great interaction with someone who was related to my program was the idea that she had thought something about my weight.  Maybe she thought I couldn’t do it because I was heavy, or maybe she thought it surprising that I was medically cleared.  Or maybe she was surprised by it in general.  Just as I was about to walk out of hearing range I heard Girl #1 turn to Girl #2 and say “That was so cool!!!” and the idea popped out of my head as a big smile settled on my face. What a great day.

            When I got back to Georgetown I wanted so badly to tell my Mom about it, and realized that we hadn’t talked in two weeks and I really missed her. I am going to have such a hard time being so out of touch with her. I’m going to spend a fortune on postage.

Went for a swim again the next day, tried a bit to get my life organized, and then I went down to M street around 8 oclock to meet up with Meg for dinner.  We met at Pizzeria Paradiso, which is this cute little place with a really great menu and a crazy beer selection!  We got talking about our Moms, our parents’ divorces, writing, boys, and the jobs we have had working with spoiled kids.  The conversation was so easy that when we had finished eating neither of us wanted to get up so we stayed at the table until we thought it would be super rude if we didn’t leave.  Meg and I don’t get much of a chance to hang out but I always forget how much we have in common.  Maybe it is that when Meg and I are together it is rarely alone, and usually in a circumstance where it is not necessarily appropriate or inclusive to talk about the things we have in common.  It was so nice though.  Things that I think are relatively unique about me or are not necessarily things just about anyone else wants to talk about, that’s the stuff that we can talk about, and we’ve grown up together so we know so much about the other and their family and everything.  It’s just so nice, and easy, and comfortable.  Meg is not a friend I have to worry about blabbing things to people.  We have such a unique bond and such a special one, and in our usual geographic distance I can forget how much we have to talk about.  I’m so thankful we had that dinner to chat to remind me how much more there is to our relationship that we have kind of put on hold because of our distance and busy schedules.  I feel like we have all done that, or maybe I have done that and everyone else in my family has had it done to them, I’m not sure…but the distance that has developed in our family makes me sad.  Don’t get me wrong, it’s not estrangement, we are all so close that if you put us together it would be like we were all together yesterday and we’d pick up right where we left off.  I have confidence and take comfort in that, but perhaps because that is true and dependable, is why we have neglected each other.  I miss being up to date.  I miss seeing everyone multiple times a summer, being so sorry each time to see each other go that we chase their car halfway down the Nickerson Lane.  I miss being a bigger presence in their everyday lives and having them as a bigger presence in mine.  The only problem, is that it is sort of too late, at least for me for the next two years, but I will do what I can.  

Ned called me a few days ago and we chatted for a while as he drove to New York to see Laura’s family.  He spent about 15 minutes making me promise that I wouldn’t come home with a Peruvian husband and children.  I tried to explain to him that that is a lot to get done in two years.  It didn’t matter.

            “I don’t care what kind of nice things he does for you, if you show up in the United States with a guy who can’t speak English….I’m gonna….kill you.” He stuttered out. Hahah I promised him i wouldn't.  Turns out that he was serious because he said, “No really. I’m serious. Keep those legs closed, Wuggy.” Hahaha the best part was that in the background I heard Laura say something, after which Ned said, “Laura says I’m rude.” Hahah 

            My pending departure seems to be bringing out a protective part in my brothers I don’t see very often anymore.  It’s a little different than the usual, “you’ll be fine” or “suck it up, wuggy”.  Ned explained to me that he was thankful I could beat the crap out of anyone I came across because otherwise he would be super worried about me if I was a little 5 foot nothing.  He asked all sorts of questions about where I was staying and if I was living with anyone.  All I could tell him was that I would be in a homestay.  It is nice that I will have people worrying about me too.  I’m glad they will be far enough away that I don’t have to talk to them all the time about why they don’t need to worry, but I feel loved. 

On a train to NYC.  Not so excited about the conference here or living in their shit dorms, but I’m pumped to see my Dahlia and my Sam.  I’m worried that this is the last time I will see them both.  I’m supposed to meet Ned and sister-in-law Laura for lunch at some point and I’m worried I won’t see them again either.  I don’t really know what to do about that because it’s fact, it’s reality.  I guess all there is to do is sigh and resign myself to the truth.  I should just be happy that I love so many people enough that it is this hard to say goodbye to them.