I blinked. I knew
this would happen. I blinked and now is
has been three months since I wrote my last blog post. Ever since I visited the U.S. in May I’ve
been on the go here in Guyana. It has
been some kind of beautiful disaster. I’ve
found myself both scraping the barrel for the last bits of my own energy as well as dancing
around in absolute elation.
This year Camp GLOW was INTENSE. It was like squeezing a tube of toothpaste and
having it all come out at once. All of
my physical, mental, and whatever other capacities that encompass a body were
put to the test; limited sleep, running from one place to the next, talking
girls into feeling less homesick, getting people into the right session at the
right time, emergencies, guest speakers, the list could go on. Everything was so here and now you could
barely think 10 seconds beyond your current moment. We had 75 girls from every region of Guyana
except one. I personally trekked out on
a bumpy 9 hour bus ride (one way) to go and collect a set of girls from a remote
Amerindian village. It was quite a
journey. Along the way back, several girls
got sick and our bus wheel fell off and had to be tied on with rope to last the
remaining hour and a half ride. The
girls I collected were extremely brave, some of them had never in their life
been out of their remote village before, let alone on a long 9 hour mini bus
ride with a broken wheel. They were troopers and also probably cursing me under their breath in Padamona.
Camp still had its magical flow. The girls came in unsure, shy, and
homesick. They were uncertain of things and were very cautious. Then
everything took
off. We had arts and crafts, sessions on
health, skits, guest speakers, sessions on slam poetry, modern dance,
and creative
writing. We relieved stress by pelting a
board with paintballs aimed at targets such “boys” or “money” or
“school.” We ran around attacking each other with shaving
cream and water balloons, we ate ice cream, and sang camp songs. You
could see it in bright smiles and
sparkling eyes, the girls were opening up.
They were laughing with each other, teaching each other dances, sharing
their newly created poems and songs.
They even had the courage to share stories they had never told anybody
else. This is usually the hardest part
for me. That despite their beautiful
smiles and laughter, camp might have been the one time they have ever
truly
felt safe or have had full stomachs or felt like they really mattered.
That despite things in their lives that no
one their age should ever have to know, they still have the courage to
remain standing and have hopes and dreams to pursue.
One girl said that camp gave her hope and the drive to push through some
of the challenges that she was facing. It
was that same girl I almost gave up on.
I almost didn’t make the effort to really reach out and get her to
camp. Her statement completely rattled
me. As a Peace Corps volunteer, you don’t
see a lot of big victories, but sometimes those small efforts you do
make can
mean a lot more than you think or ever will know.
At the rate I’m going if I blink twice, everything will be
over. Things are just moving that
quickly. People are beginning to tell me
my time is up jus' now and ask if I am ready to leave. Six months is still a lot of time, but I
don’t think I’ll ever be ready to leave.
The longer I’m here, the more things I could see myself doing or getting
involved with. Yes, trying to accomplish
things can be frustrating or make you feel disenchanted. But it is also challenging and rewarding and….I
kind of love it. Now here is the issue,
you take the time to know a country, a culture, and people and are at a point
where you could keep going and try to make a significant impact and then it’s
time to leave. It’s like breaking up
with someone and having this knowledge about a person you will never use again in any
other context. All that time it took is
gone and you could do a world of good if you just stayed where you are. Maybe it is because I am reading Mountains Beyond Mountains but
I have some inner conflict with knowing when to stay or leave. Paul
Farmer just picks Haiti and decides to
stay there (there is more to it than that, but that is the gist).
Because he takes so much time to be immersed
in the country he is able to have a huge impact on health there. The
crazy thing is he was younger than I am
now when he made his decision to stay put.
I know I am not Paul Farmer, I will leave Guyana, not that I
particularly
want to, but because I know I need to go one step further before I feel
adequately
equipped to answer the question of staying. Of course Paul Farmer
traveled between Haiti and Boston while completing medical school, but I
get the feeling he is kind of an over achiever. ;-)
September was a much quieter month . I have been teaching, trying to start/finish my
practicum, and applying to nursing school.
I get so distracted by all the possibilities of traveling, school, where
I will live, jobs, etc. that I haven’t been super productive at moving towards
any of these things. If you are
interested in traveling around South America (maybe Brazil, Bolivia, Peru) at
the end of March/ early April, let me know.
I’d be happy to travel with someone, even if it is for a week. :-) I am also on a potato / veggies and rice diet
for a while because I am trying to save money to see Kaieteur Falls in
October. A bunch of us are going to do
an overland hike, which I am REALLY excited about. Alright, I think that is it for now. Hope all
is well and you all are looking
forward to the crisp fall weather. Send
some cool thoughts down South, its been hot down here!
Much Love,
-KB
