The Return....

Sitting on the narrow, rather uncomfortable bus seat, staring out the window, Sonia leaned over and told me we had about 15 minutes left. As we were approaching what was soon to become my new home, I had no idea what to expect.  Everything around me was grayish-brown, dusty and reminded me a lot of bing in Arizonia. Trees and shrubs flashed by in the window here and there as our rapidito (small/direct bus) speed it's way to Las Flores, Lempira giving the scenery a little bit of color, but what caught my eye was the mountains all around us.  As we passed the desvio (turn off) for Lepaera, which I knew was up at the top of the mountain and would be Eric's site, I couldn't help but wonder if he had arrived yet?  As we slowed and drove over a speed bump, Sonia said we had arrived.  Looking around, I didn't see much.  We were on a 2-lane highway and we pulled off the road at a giant pink tire (llanta) marking the location of the local tire-changing/fixing establishment.  As I stepped off the bus, I was glad Slater's counterparts had taken my giant duffle bags in their car because I had too much to take in at that moment to deal with shlupping two giant suite cases down a gravel road.  As soon as we stepped off the bus, and i didn't have that nice breeze on my face, I realized I was in for a treat.  It was hot - hotter than hot.  There were mountains all around us, but we were down in the valley, which meant I was going to be living in a "hot site." My feet were already sweating, my Keens were letting all sorts of dust and rocks be kicked right under my foot, my clothes were sticking to me, and I didn't even want to know what my hair looked like.  Three little boys were running down the road as we made our way to Sonia's house, but they all stopped mid stride when they saw my white skinned, blond haired self walking down the street. There was no trying to blend in or act like a local.  I could have been spotted a mile away, and I felt like everyone was looking at me.  We hustled inside and Sonia showed me to my room.  My bags had already arrived and instead of unpacking, I was passed out on my new bed about 15 minutes later.  It was a stressful night and 8-hour bus ride, but I had finally arrived to my new home for what was supposed to be 2 years.

Those two years, however, were cut short and Tomorrow marks six months since leaving Honduras.  I can honestly say that these last six months have probably been the fastest six months of my life.  How is it all of the sudden the middle of July - What even happened to June?  Thinking about what I have done in these last six months - I am actually a little bit proud of myself.  I recovered from three different kinds of parasites, started working, applied to graduate school, traveled for a month, was accepted to grad  school, and then spent the last three and half months working back home in Alaska.  It was fun, but each day I was counting down to this moment - the time when I get to go back to Honduras.  Yes, you heard me right - I am going back to Honduras - on the 18th.  A lot of people have questioned my decision - "really, you are returning to a place that was deemed to dangerous to keep you volunteers any longer?"  And, I must say that is a valid question, but for some reason, it does not seem to be stopping me.  I have a pull - there is actually something pulling me back there.  It is something I can't seem to find words to explain, but for other Peace Corps Volunteers who were enjoying their Peace Corps experience as much as I was, you all can understand the desire to go back.  I miss so many things.  I miss my host family - the amazing people that took me in as a complete stranger and made me part of their family.  My Peace Corps experience would have been so different had a been placed in a different site, or even with another family.  Sonia - my host mom - took me under her wing and made my experience so much better for it.  On May 16th, 2011, the day after arriving to site, she took me all around town introducing me to people and letting them know who I was and what i was doing in town - and with that, she took away my nervousness.  Ok, of course I was still nervous, but having her their with me - she gave me the confidence I needed to make my Peace Corps experience what I wanted it to be.  What ever ideas I had, she was right behind me to make it work.  

When I moved out of Sonia's house to my house "arriba," I then had the opportunity to get to know the family who owned my house.  They were beyond welcoming.  Patty, the actual owner of the house, who lived in San Pedro, came into town every other weekend or so and she made it a point to welcome me into the family - her parents, Don Adrean and Amparo were a little more hesitant to make the first move. Patty, however, would just open the door to her parent's house, stick her head out and yell - "Coraaaaaaal - Hay Baleadas!!!"  Which meant - Coral come over for dinner and eat some baleadas, which were my favorite.  They were always inviting me for dinner, bringing me fruit they picked, or just popping into chat. 

It was my boyfriend at the time that got me set up with my little house.  Don Adrean is his uncle.  He apparently talked to Don Adrean about me needing a place, so they had been preparing it for a month before I even found out about it.  The cleared everything out, built a bathroom and a pila (where you wash clothes), and cleaned the whole house.  I was very grateful.  I wasn't really sure what I was going to do - It was time to move out out Sonia's house, and I hadn't found anything up to my standards.  I needed more than just a room with a bed and a closet.  I could have stayed at Sonia's house, but I like having my space and a kitchen.  So, Mermaid (that is what all the volunteers ended up calling my boyfriend at the time because his name was Ariel - The Little Mermaid) introduced me to Don Adrean and took me up to the little house so I could make sure it was all up to snuff, which it was.  I was moved in a few days later!

I will be forever grateful to Mermaid for introducing me to his family.  I will always feel as though I am a part of his family - even though he and I did not work out.  I know his parents, Don Adrean and Amparo, and Patty all think that he and I will still end up together one day, but it is just not going to happen.  That is a whole different story, but let me just preface it with the fact that he is your normal Honduran and likes to have more than one girlfriend, which is not OK with me.  That may be acceptable in Honduras, but that is one part of the Honduran culture that I would never be able to accept.  So, even though Mermaid and I broke up, we were still friends, and I was still basically part of his family.  I would visit his mom almost every day, and I was always spending time with his sisters - and obviously Don Adrean, Amparo, and Patty as they were my landlords and were always watching out for me.

So many other people and families took me in and and wanted to help me in every way they could - it would take a lot to explain them all to you, and that would probably get a little repetitive and boring,  so I'll spare you.  But, if you can take anything away from this, I want you to take away that Honduran people are open, generous and caring  Of course there are people who don't fit into that mold and people who are extremists, but in my opinion, that is not the majority.  Honduras currently has the highest murder rate in the world, but it kills me that people focus on that.  The people causing that title are not the majority - they are the people involved in violence and drugs and they are giving my amazing Honduras a bad reputation.  

Trying to explain to people why I want to go back, is complicated and they tend to focus on the bad - on the danger and the violence of bing in, and traveling, around Honduras.  But that is not what I picture when I imagine going back to Honduras.  I am picturing my host family, and all the other people that became my Honduran family.  I miss Las Flores - the town that became my home away from home.  

I had only been living in Las Flores for eight months, but I really did feel like it was my home.  I had adjusted, made a routine, and enjoyed every aspect of my work.  When it was time to leave, I was devastated.  I know there were volunteers who breathed a sigh of relief when we were told that we had to leave, but I was not one of them.  Yes, i thought about the fact that it was nice not to have to finish my two-year commitment, but after weighing out everything in my mind, that small part of it did not win.  One more year would have been so easy.  I had projects to look forward to that would have made the time go by quickly - I had friends and "family" to be with and I would have had more time to learn the language and the culture.  I honestly feel like I was jipped.  

Since I left, all I have been able to think about has been going back. Amanda, Nina and I even talked about going back and opening a bakery.  We played around with a lot of ideas of going back and how we could make a living, but I knew that I wasn't going to be able to do any of them - especially after I found out about graduate school. But, I still needed to go back, I still had that draw. Part of this is for selfish reasons - I don't want Honduras to forget about me - I don't want Las Flores to forget about me.  I want them to remember who I am and all that I did, and the friendships that were formed.  My mom didn't understand why I felt the need to make a trip to Honduras before starting graduate school in August, and I couldn't quite explain it to her.  But, to tell you the truth that was it.  I don't want them to forget about me, and I don't want to forget about them.  Being back in the United States, we all get drawn back in to the United States way of life.  It doesn't take much, and honestly, it is not a bad thing, but I just don't want it.  I want to keep Honduras at my finger tips, I want to remember my experiences and keep it all fresh in my mind.  

I don't know exactly what I will accomplish by returning to Las Flores.  I know that it will make me happy, though.  It is something I feel the need to do, so I'm doing it.  I will spend 10 days, not being a volunteer, which will be very weird and different in itself.  I will, however, always remember everything I learned in Peace Corps and everything Juan Carlos taught us about being safe. Honduras - Las Flores specifically - will be a part of me for the rest of my life - I don't ever want to lose it and I am going to do what ever I can to not allow that to happen.

Leaving.... Part 1

Written January 22nd

It has taken me a while to be able to write about this, but it has come time to tell the story about leaving Honduras. I know some of you are curious, but then some have pieced it together, but I’m going to take some time to tell you what happened and how it took a toll on me. I have postponed it for so long because I know it is going to be a difficult thing for me to write about. My emotions are always so much stronger when I write and I have not been ready to really let the tears run, but I’m back home in Alaska, and I guess there will be no better a time than now. I‘m going to do this in two parts to take less of a toll on me, I hope you enjoy.

A month and two days ago, we were told we would be leaving Honduras. It has been a rough month, to say the least. That day, Tuesday December 20th, Amanda and I were sitting in Big Baleadas in Santa Rosa de Copan. We received a text message from the Peace Corps office, telling us our country director had just sent a very important e-mail and that we either need to read it right then, or call the office if we did not have access to internet. At that same moment, the internet for the baleada restaurant decided to stop working. Amanda and I unplugged our computers, grabbed our purses, and pretty much ran to another café that we knew had fast internet - Jireth. My computer automatically signed onto the internet at Jireths, so I was able to open the e-mail before Amanda - I read it allowed.

This e-mail told us about the unfortunate decision that was made to pause Peace Corps operations in Honduras and complete an evaluation of the safety and security of the country. At this time, we were also put on Standfast, meaning we were not allowed to leave our sites for any reason, and Peace Corps also informed us a little about some of our options for the future. We could take “interrupted service” and go home or decide to stay in Honduras, or we could return home and stay on “administrative hold,” and wait to see what happens to Peace Corps Honduras.

From this day on, we got weekly updates with answers to frequently asked logistical questions, and were informed about the 4-day conference we were going to be having in Tegucigalpa before being shipped back to the US on January 16th. This was a difficult three weeks - I spent Christmas and New Years in my site, but the idea that I was being sent home was always weighing me down - you can never truly enjoy something when your mind is spending so much energy thinking about something else.

Amanda got back to Honduras from Christmas in the States on January 6th, which made my life easier - it is always easier to make it through hard times when you have someone to talk - even if it is just on the phone. Yes, I had plenty of people to talk to in Las Flores, but talking it over in Spanish with a Honduran just wasn’t the same. I had to spend a lot of time and energy explaining why I had to leave, and how the country really is dangerous even though Las Flores isn’t. It was a lot of energy that sometime I just didn’t want to use. I wanted to talk to a friend in English to complain about the rotten citation, complain about Peace Corps lack of communication, to be sad together about not leaving - and Amanda was the person I needed to do that with. We learned to understand each other, to support each other, to comfort each other during the many times we had spent together in Las Flores.

Once I had my chatting buddy back, I was able to unload on her and relax a little bit. But, I still had six days intil we were leaving, and I needed to sell all my belongings, say my goodbyes, take my cat to her new owners - it was going to be a busy week. The one upside of keeping myself busy was my ability to not think about what was making me sad - I could focus on my to-do list.

Saturday, January 7th, was my going away party put on my the mayor’s office in Las Flores. We went to the hot springs, drank beer (my first time in front of any of them), ate cake, listened to music, and talked about how unfortunate it was that I had to leave. It was fun, and at about 10 p.m., my friends and I decided that we wanted to go dancing, so we moved down to the other pool in town - which always has music for dancing on Saturday nights! It was the perfect night. I said some goodbyes, got some pictures, and was having a fun night with my friends - and I was so excited to get some dancing in before leaving Honduras.

Me and Wil - the Mayor of Las Flores

Unfortunately my perfect going away party was short-lived. I danced twice, and then was saying hi to some other friends, when my best friend in site got a beer bottle smashed over his head by a co-worker’s jealous husband. Nobody understands what or why it happened because my friend is the most calm, friendly guy in Las Flores - he doesn’t have enemies - or so we all thought. But, when you give a jealous husband a bunch of booze, I guess there is just no telling what he will do - including breaking a bottle over a guys head who did absolutely nothing.

After this fiasco, my friends and I went up to my house - my night (and my best friends night) was pretty much ruined, but it only got worse.

An hour later, my friend started puking up blood. At first it was only a little bit, so we were thinking we would take him to the hospital in the morning when the buses started running, but when he started puking again, with a lot more blood, we decided - and he wanted - to go to the hospital. By this time it was almost 2 a.m. and none of us had cars. We started making calls, looking for someone who was awake and had access to a car, but we came up with nothing. Finally we got a hold of the mayor’s secretary, who was still awake and said if we got the OK from the mayor, he would drive us in the company truck. So, at about 2:30 a.m. another friend and I walked down to the mayor’s house, woke him up, and got the OK to use the truck. A half an hour later my friend was getting x-rays and was given extra strength Tylenol and some pills to get rid of his nausea. That was it!!!! His face wasn’t broken, so they sent him on his way. When he was back in Las Flores, he slept in my spare bedroom, so I could keep an eye on him. He puked one more time, then I gave him some nausea medicine, and Tylenol for the pain. He slept for the next two days - only getting up to take his pills and eat a little.

Everyday I had texts, calls, and people coming up to me to ask how he was doing. Nobody had seen him in days because after he was able to move around, he still didn’t want to because he didn’t want people to see his face, which was black and swollen. So, while he was recovering, I was making arrangements to sell my belongings: stove, oven, dishes, fridge, bed, bedding, closet, water filter, and fan.

I was going to be leaving Las Flores at 6 a.m. on January 12, so I spent the 9th and the 10th cleaning my house and packing all my stuff - deciding what I wanted to take with me, and what I could get rid of. It was a slow process, especially because I didn’t want to do it, so I got easily distracted. I was still finishing on the 11th - I put it off as long as I could. I kept trying to believe that if I just didn’t do it, I wouldn’t have to leave, but eventually I had to realize that wasn’t going to be the case.

My cat, Junior, could tell something was going on all day on the 11th. She stayed right next to me the whole time I was packing my suitcases and cleaning the house. But, at one point my friends came over to say hi, and they were hanging out outside while I finished mopping the floor. At this point, Junior decided to climb a tree, and when I finished mopping and went outside, and then I burst into tears. I don’t know what triggered it, I just leaned against the wall, looked at my friend, and started bawling! I ran inside to calm myself, grabbed my backpack, cat food, cat toys, and cat treats and went outside to get Junior. Unfortunately, she was still in the tree and couldn’t get down. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to come down, she was winning because she actually couldn’t get down! One of my friends ended up climbing up the tree and getting her down for me.

Wagner and Junior... Thank you friend!!!

Taking Junior to her new home was one of the hardest parts of leaving Las Flores. Obviously the people and friendships are more important than a pet, but I shed a lot more tears when I dropped Junior off. I also had to say goodbye to some very close friends at the same time, which could explain the excess tears, but it was hard to say the least.

The rest of the night went very well - it was the perfect last night. We went to the hot springs and just relaxed for a while, and then when we had turned pruney, we went back to my house because we had a plan for the rest of the night. I had saved everything that I decided didn’t make the cut for my two bags that I was allowed to take back to the states with me, and that weren’t worth giving to anyone in Las Flores. So we went back to my house, grabbed all my “garbage” and walked to the river. What better way to commemorate and celebrate my times in Las Flroes than with a bon fire? A lot of what got burned were all the manuals that we were given during training: policy manuals, medical policy manuals, old health project manuals, hand outs, old Spanish notebooks - it was a good way to end my time in Las Flores and with Peace Corps - in my opinion.

Goodbye Las Flores... and Peace Corps....You will be missed!

We went back to my house after everything was burnt, and then just hung out. I didn’t want to say goodbye, and neither did my friends, so we just stayed up. Eric was going to be coming to my house - originally at 6:30 but later that changed - at 8:00 a.m. So, I spent the early morning packing all my last minute items, moving my stuff outside, going on a mission for orange juice and taking out money from the bank agent in town, then we all just sat around until Eric made it. We were running on Honduran time, so he didn’t get there until almost 9 a.m., which was when we were supposed to be arriving in Santa Rosa to get on the bus Peace Corps had rented to take all 33 volunteers who lived in the west to the hotel in Tegucigalpa. But, the bus wasn’t actually leaving until 10 a.m. so we were doing fine. I finally had to say a quick goodbye after throwing my bags in the back of the truck, and then I drove away from Las Flores, with the realization that I had no idea when I was ever going to be there again! I kept pretty quite for the 40 minute drive to Santa Rosa. I was trying to come to terms with the fact that I had just left! I felt bad that I didn’t talk much with Eric’s friend who drove us, but I’m guessing he probably understood.

Once in Santa Rosa, I had one more goodbye to make, then got on the bus. We were put up in a fancy bus with seats that reclined, and we even had a bathroom. However, the fancy bus stored all the luggage underneath, meaning the passengers were riding higher than on a normal chicken bus. I had gotten used to chicken bus rides, but unfortunately my stomach was not acclimated to the set up of this particular bus, so I was car sick the whole ride - 7 hours! I couldn’t eat, luckily they provided us with bottled water, but the bus was air conditioned, so we were not allowed to open the windows, and Peace Corps would not let the bus make any stops. We called the Peace Corps worker who was following our bus asking if we could please pull over because there were people who needed relieve their bowls, which was not supposed to be done in the bathroom on the bus (there was even a note on the door) and that someone was car sick - but he would not approve a rest stop! Seven hours on a bus without stopping - are you serious!!! Apparently they were!

I had to open the window of the bus a couple times, but I ended up making it to Tegucigalpa without vomiting. Amanda and I had mastered our Honduran bus riding, so we were the first two off that bus, with our bags, and in the elevator going up to the lobby. The bus had pulled around back to the service entrance where there was only one elevator, so it took 45 minutes for everyone on the bus to make it upstairs. I was happy I used my Honduran-ness to get off that bus, but I’m sorry to those of you that I stepped in front of - I was still afraid vomiting might have been a in the picture - and I hadn’t used the bathroom in more than eight hours, so I was in a hurry to get off that bus!

Once at the hotel…..well, that will be for Part 2!

Feliz año nuevo y bienvenidos 2012!!!

Written December 31st

As it is New Years Eve, I am currently thinking over this past year - 2011. It was a good year. This time last year, I was in Seattle celebrating the 24th birthday of one of my best friends (Happy Birthday Jess!), and waiting to be shipped off to Honduras, where I currently am. It was a great day, Jessica’s best friend Danielle made mini cupcakes - they were Guinness cupcakes with a Bialys Irish Cream frosting! I don’t like the flavor of alcohol, but those cupcakes were delicious! The three of us drove up to Seattle (we were at Jessica’s parent’s house) to get ready for an evening on the town. Seattle - being the home of the Space Needle, has the annual fireworks show there. I had never been before, so I was excited to see it. However, as it was December 31st, it was freezing out, especially waiting around that late at night. Jess, Dani, and I joined the mob of people around the TV cameras around 11pm - hot chocolate in hand. We, like everyone else, were trying to get the TV host’s attention, so we could get on TV. When he went around asking for plans for the new year, I told him I was joining the Peace Corps, which got me five seconds of fame on the Seattle news! After the fireworks show, we stuck around the TV crew to try and get a hug from the host - which we did - then we made our way back to the car and to Jessica’s aunt's house. Instead of heading to bed, we went downstairs and watched two episodes of Jersey Shores, and the called it a night. I had never seen Jersey Shores before, but that was how I welcomed the year 2011! Who would have guessed that show would play a semi-larger role in the year to come! (Explanation later).

The next two months I spent at my best friend’s house outside of Seattle practicing my Spanish and reading some of books Peace Corps recommended. Then, February 23rd I left for Peace Corps staging in Atlanta - taking my life down a whole new path! In Atlanta, I met 52 other people just like me, anxiously awaiting our departure to Honduras. We spent three months together in training - all equally appreciating what we were learning, but hating a good portion of it at the same time. Nobody likes to be treated like they are in kindergarten - being told when to eat, when to sleep, what you can and can’t do, especially when we are all college graduates that had made the choice to volunteer our time in another country.

But, as tough as it was, we all made it through training - without loosing a single trainee. May 14th, we were all shuttled to the American Embassy to become real Peace Corps Volunteers. None of us would have guessed at that time that we wouldn’t even make it a year. Of course people talked every now and then of the possibility of Honduras getting shut down and what you would do in that case, but it was never something I expected to really happen - at least I truly hoped not. But, as the news kept telling us that Honduras is the most dangerous country in the world - with the highest murder rate, and an insane amount of cocaine traffic - I guess our fate was inevitable.

I still remember May 15th perfectly - waking up at 4am to finish getting all my stuff together, and to meet the bus Peace Corps had organized for everyone who had long trips ahead of them. I lucked out and did not have to haul around my two huge bags because a volunteer that was going to be living close to me got a ride to his site, and his counterparts graciously hauled my luggage to my site for me! Took a load of my mind and back! I got off the Peace Corps bus in Tegucigalpa, where I met up with my counterpart/host mom - Sonia. She had a cab already, and hurried me along to get in it. I made my last goodbyes to the volunteers that were on the bus with me, and hopped in the cab. Sonia is a straight shooter - she tells it like it is, and does things efficiently. She knew we had a bus to catch, and was hell bent on getting there on time, which we did. I was not the only volunteer to end up on that bus, there were four others. I would have liked to sit with them, talk in English about how nervous we were, and just relax, but I had to sit with Sonia. At that point, my Spanish was adequate at best, mostly due to my lack of self confidence - I thought too much about what I wanted/needed to say and if I was going to say it right. After arriving in site, I quickly learned that the best thing for me to do was just to talk, talk, talk in Spanish and not worry if I messed up.

Sonia and I didn’t talk a lot on the bus, I had my book, and I pretty much kept my nose in it. She knew that I was nervous, and that my Spanish was not that great, so she didn’t try to force any conversations either. We talked every once in a while about something we were passing or about other volunteers that had been in my site in the past, but that was about it.

We arrived to my site at about 2pm - and my luggage had made it there an hour or so before us. Sonia showed me around the house, and showed me to my room where she left me to unpack. She brought me some fruit after a little bit, but then I just went to sleep. I was exhausted after hardly no sleep the night before, followed by a day of traveling and stressing about whether I would like my new home or not. It takes a lot out of you. I got up for dinner, and met Sonia’s husband and son, then went back to bed. The next day began my true service with Peace Corps Honduras. I can’t believe that it has been almost 8 months since that day (which was my sister’s 27th birthday). It has all gone by so fast - the whole year has basically been a world-wind!

In my opinion, 2011 was one of my favorite years yet. I joined the Peace Corps and spent the past 10 months in Honduras - a country I have come to love, and to be quite honest don’t want to leave. I will never forget the lunchtime talks or after-class getaways during training - Nina, Amanda, and Ashley talking about Jersey Shore; Geoff and Alex making fun of them, but in my opinion secretly wanting to go to Valle de Angles and watch the latest episodes with the girls; Slater, Kelvin, Alden, and Roy always looking for more food because they are growing boys that need more than a typical Honduran lunch to satisfy their metabolisms; Vlad, Cruz and Erin always getting the soccer games going; Che, Andrea, Tom, Dan, Slater, Melissa, and I making our bi or tri weekly trips to Santa Lucia; Lacy always off on her own knitting, or fighting with Slater and Cruz; Ryan always sharing his passion for music and Norway; Kristin and her usually accurate guesses about who was going to hook up with whom; Kelvin and Ryan busting out the Thong song at Karaoke; Julia and her amazing rapping skills; Ashley and I singing Little Mermaid sons outside the immigration office in Tegus; Eric, Roman, Alden and Jacob always bringing out the hacky sack; Damarise and Craig being adorable with their marriage bracelets; Brian always rockin’ his straw Fedora; Brett, Tiffany, Vlad, and Nina busting out the playing cards; Brayton always finding time to get a little reading in; Tricia and Leticia always so adorable and chilly when a good portion of the rest of us were sweating - I have so many memories or our times together; I just wish that we could have more. Having to leave Honduras a year and a half early is not something any of us wanted, but we are all figuring out how to deal with it in our own ways.

Over this past year, I made some friends that I truly hope will be life-long. It will be hard staying in contact as all of us volunteers are from all around the US, and as easy as it is to say you will stay in contact with friends in site, I know that once we all get back to the States, it will slowly get harder and harder to keep in contact with our friends we leave behind in Honduras. But, on the bright side, now we have Facebook - which makes keeping in contact with people all around the globe a much easier task. Us H-18 Volunteers will be together one last time during our conference in Tegucigalpa, then we are all being shipped back “home” on January 16th - a month and a week short of one year in Honduras.

During this conference, we all have some heavy decisions to make. Do we stay on “Administrative Hold” in hopes that Honduras will open back up and we can return to our original sites? Do we take “Interrupted Service” and apply to another country? Do we take “Interrupted Service” and deiced not to continue our service with Peace Corps? I know that a lot of volunteers have already made up their minds - some already having gone home, but then there is me (and I‘m sure others are in the same boat) - I just can’t decide what to do. Do I hold out - hoping that I will be able to return to my site at some point, albeit two or three months from now? Do I take interrupted service and move on with my life? Do I want to start all over in another country? I guess this is what the conference is going to be about though - an opportunity for us to really hear all of our options and make an informed decision about our future with Peace Corps.

So, now I have 10 days left in my site, then I’m off to Tegus to be put up in a nice hotel that I will not be allowed to leave. I know Peace Corps has to take their security precautions, but putting 150 volunteers in a hotel and then telling them they are not allowed to leave it - I’m guessing there may be some trouble ahead - but vamos a ver (we’ll see).