Things no one tells you…

Things no one tells you about joining the Peace Corps.

It’s very much like any other government job – lots of paperwork, lots of hurrying, lots of waiting, lots of not a lot getting done.  Bring a book.

It’s not at all like any other job – at all.  It’s cute that you thought you might walk into your office and be able to ask someone what you’re supposed to do though.  I see here on your resume it says you’re a creative, independent self-starter… good thing, too!  Go to it!

Peanut butter is more American than apple pie – who knew?  We went through two and a half big containers of Jif peanut butter in our first week and a half at post.  Peanut butter did not play a large role in our diet before leaving the States – organic, fair trade, fresh ground honey roasted peanuts are tasty now and again, sure, but two and a half tubs of the stuff?? Salsa or hummus, maybe… not peanut butter.  We had an inexplicable, insatiable craving.  It must be laced in the water or pumped into the air back home, and we were just in withdrawal.  Other volunteers have mentioned similar experiences.

Being awakened to a spectacular sunrise by the crowing of a rooster… leads to murderous thoughts, throwing rocks, and chasing a giant chicken around the yard.  Not a lot of sunrise reflection or appreciation.  Its not pretty.  The crow of a rooster outside your bedroom window is like being awakened by the sound of someone standing beside your bed and screaming at the top of their lungs.  Repeatedly.  It’s really enough to drive one to…wait for it… murder most fowl.

Food that feeds the body is good.  A meal to nourish the soul, home cooked with good company, commiseration and a dash of encouragement, is essential for this expat stuff…  Even better if it’s made with familiar ingredients!

The sound of your brother’s voice will make you happier than you can remember being.  And then will make you cry.

Depression, rather than something you seek “help” or medication for, is more of a state of being, alternating regularly with euphoria.  It’s either bi-polar disorder, or “culture fatigue,” but either way, those periodic glimpses of equilibrium are what you’re looking for.  They get more frequent, and sometimes you even find yourself looking around and feeling strangely comfortable, content…even, oh, yes, at home.