Sunday, December 18, 2011 marked my first full year back in the good ole U.S. of A. after the abrupt termination of my Peace Corps service. The end came before I truly got started. (The first year of service is about acquainting yourself with culture, developing relationships, identifying needs, and establishing trust.) When "I" agreed on Ghana, knowing Lesotho was not longer an option, I was aware my story had veered down a path of its own. Instead of the 'normal' two year stint in a single country--a single village--I would have two first years. I had the lone advantage of understanding--to expect nothing. I would learn a new language and, with time, slowly find my place amongst a far more Westernized culture. For this 'less is more' loving girl, I was skeptical and unsure of my ability to handle a second first year.
The alternative was quitting... which was not actually an alternative.
I must have arrived in Ghana to utter chaos; the month-long experience has been 'blacked-out' from my memory. That was not my intention; I still tug at my brain for memories--the name of the my headmaster, the name of my school, or the name of my village. If it were not for the four words of Twi (principal native language of Ghana) I learned or the grand total of six people interacted with, I would argue I spent a month on the tarmac of the Kotoka International Airport.
I boarded the America-bound plane and panicked. If you have not met Rock Bottom, allow me to introduce you: Shrieking. Numb. Oblivious. Tears. Confusion. The United Airlines pilot privately escorted me off the plane to address "my condition" as he referred to it. I would learn, I could not be in this state at the time of departure... or I would be left behind. I searched for a metaphor in this.
I never found my metaphor, but I found good fortune in the form of a six hour delay. There was a crew shortage... which, in retrospect, is probably why the Pilot Man had to deal with me. Then there was engine failure. I was able to stay outside under the warm Ghanaian sky, while the rest of the passengers sat--starring out their blurry oval windows--inside. Special Treatment? Pilot Man had his newest Crew Girl call me inside to my seat. I adjusted my seatbelt... and started shaking and sweating. We were in motion when the waterworks began. Another lecture. People were whispering about sedatives. Mom taught me not to take candy from strangers so I was not about to bum drugs off Randy Random(!!!).
There was a minor victory when faulty wheels were discovered seconds before take off. I was re-released to the now brightly covered starlit night while repairs were made. And then the Boeing 767-300 and I were actually ready to go... at this point I felt more at ease than my fellow passengers appeared.
I landed on American soil between breakfast and lunch to the whites of my dad's eyes. He came inside to get me… or carry the luggage I did not even bother to bring home. I did not want belongings tainted with 'the end' of something I was unprepared for. I got to our snow-covered home and climbed into bed. After sleeping on a thick-ish pad in Ghana under a towel--soaked with sweat by morning--my twin-sized Costco bed luxuriously welcomed me; I climbed in for the winter hibernation ahead. I slept for six straight daytime hours--the most I had consistently slept since September 3. Minor victory #2.
The holidays skated by in one big blur. I could not wait to be out of the season of joy--this time of year is the blatant reminder we are without one.
In an ideal world, I would have shared this story yesterday on the one year anniversary. It was not, however, until today that I was able to combine the first half saved online with my word documented ending. What might seem ugly and embarrassing, even funny, to the masses is a display for myself of the length I have traveled between then and now. It is far to easy to count this year as another loss, after all, I still catch zzz's in my Costco bed... which between last year and night has become more unwelcoming than ever.
“Nobody can go back and start a new beginning, but anyone can start today and make a new ending.” (Maria Robinson)
“Nobody can go back and start a new beginning, but anyone can start today and make a new ending.” (Maria Robinson)
