With two weeks to go before this whole deal goes down, I have been doing lots of thinking. And list making. Let me share...
Things I am really stoked about:
-Meeting new people
-Learning new things
-Eating fresh mangos by the bushel
-Seeing a giraffe
-Wicked sexy perma-tan
-Sunshine, sunshine, sunshine (also read, NO SNOW!!!)
-Being able to teach people about stuff that make me excited
-Being bilingual
-Wearing cool clothes
-My bicycle
-Bucket baths
-Having a host family (i hope they're cool)
-The experience of a lifetime
Things I'm not so excited about, but am prepared to deal with:
-culture shock
-being sick...all the time...
-missing people I love
-warm beer
-no cheese
-freaking huge insects...that are eaten :-\
-missing people that I love (did I mention that already?)
Things I have left to procure:
-new socks
-extra underwear
-Icy-hot balm (sore muscles and joints are not considered important in the PC med-kit)
-Emergen-C (also not considered critical, but considering the above list, any little bit helps)
-stamps and envelopes and addresses
-pictures and recipes that might be handy (Like Mom's pie crust formula of greatness!)
-rechargable batteries
Things I have left to do:
-Clean my room and do tons of laundry
-Actually pack my bags
-Dig out my special ladybug mug from the boxes in the attic from when I moved back home. It's my favorite.
-Also, dig out the extra cooking spices so my dad stops worrying about oregano-smoking mice that may or may not wreak havoc on said boxes in the attic
-Finish filling out necessary paperwork
-Go out one more time with my girls
-Savor the last few days with the people I love
-Finish secret squirrel projects that are super secret suprises
-Transfer all of my music and necessary documents to wee lapTot (I'm putting this one off...)
-Organize my unread books in an easy-access, ready-to-ship-overseas manner
-Fill out FAFSA (just in case. I mean, you never know...)
Things I am not allowed to do anymore:
-Buy shoes
-Buy books
-Go out shopping, in general
-Use the "Oh yeah? Well, maybe I'll just move to Africa!" retort (Not that I ever retort at my parents. I'm just saying that it's no longer an option. For obvious reasons.)
So, the seconds tick on. Crazy. I just can't believe that after a year (!!!) I'm finally here at this point. It took forrrrrreverrrrr to get here. All of this nervous excitement is building up inside of me and I can barely stand it anymore. Let's do this already, right?
xo
ash
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
The Great Tent Fiasco
This latest update comes to you all from the keys of my shiny new (and highly cherished) lapTot. I was recently gifted an itty-bitty Toshiba netbook from my cool, cool aunt (shout out to my amazing aunt Tammie), and now have little Tot as a companion on my forthcoming adventures. While visiting my aunt, I spent some time relaxing, acquiring a few new clothing items, and reveling in the fact that my packing was shaping up, winding down, and very much under control.
And then the news came in...
As part of a particularly enthusiasic group of Trainees, we are literally flooding our Facebook wall with helpful bits of research, information, tips, and tricks (As a note: while it is probably likely that ours is the first group to have been connected to FB for so long that we are more attached to it as a resource than previous groups and therefore are utilizing it to a higher degree, I choose to think it's because we are super-cool). Yesterday morning, word comes through the grapevine that Trainees are "highly recommended" to be equipped with a tent, sleeping bag and sleeping pad." TENT?! SLEEPING BAG!? Panic ensues. I mean really! Do these people realize how much a TENT weighs?!?!
Apparently during training we will be taking, shall we say, 'little trips to the countryside.' These are called site visits, during which we will be split into groups, packed into Land Rovers and shipped off to actual Volunteers' sites to stay for a few days and experience village life as we should expect it to be. This I knew before hand. What I didn't realize is that we are expected to provide our own sleeping materials for these trips... Not that a sleeping bag would be a bad thing to have for other occasions, but a tent? Not happening.
So the discussions exploded. Who's packing, who's not, who's sharing with whom...I even offered my snuggling services in exchange for a space on someone's floor. In the big scheme of things, I don't suppose this is that big of a deal. Part of why we signed up for this whole thing is that we want an adventure, and part of what will make us successful is our ability to get creative, be flexible, and improvise. We probably don't even need anything, which is why the packing list that they give us is only full of suggestions, guidelines, and recommendations. We pick and choose what we absolutely can't live without. The significance for me was the wake-up call that this gave me. I thought I was doing fine, but now I feel like "Am I forgetting something really important?" The stress of packing was not something I was feeling. I had my tech squared away, my communication all strategized, and some leisurely shopping for the odd pair of socks or trousers in my future. And yet as I tottered hopelessly around the shelves of REI, my eyes glazing over with the slickest, sweetest stuff for the travel-savvy explorer (like chewable balls of energy, zippered suitcase organizers, and an ice pick-cum-boat anchor), I realized that maybe I was waaaaay more unprepared than I thought. I was totally content with my new lime green word-combo luggage locks, but suddenly they seemed so paltry, insignificant compared to how much stuff I was missing out on.
After an evening of frenzied research, I came to the following conclusions:1) I am not a turtle, I do not carry my house on my back, therefore...no tent. 2) I am a small person, I need a warm place to sleep, therefore...kid's sized sleeping bag, rated to +30 (I also get cold easily, which is why I asked to go to Africa). 3) I will, in all likelihood, bring something that I will never need and/or use, I will not bring something that I do need and don't realize it, therefore...no stressing about packing. I refuse to let myself get worked up. End of story.
I have a feeling that we will all be laughing about this one 'round the campfire in a few months' time. "Hey, remember that one time when we were all freaking out about sherpa-ing our way through these site-visits? Hardy-hardy-harr! Here, have some misquito netting..." Goodtimes. 'Til then...
xo
ash
And then the news came in...
As part of a particularly enthusiasic group of Trainees, we are literally flooding our Facebook wall with helpful bits of research, information, tips, and tricks (As a note: while it is probably likely that ours is the first group to have been connected to FB for so long that we are more attached to it as a resource than previous groups and therefore are utilizing it to a higher degree, I choose to think it's because we are super-cool). Yesterday morning, word comes through the grapevine that Trainees are "highly recommended" to be equipped with a tent, sleeping bag and sleeping pad." TENT?! SLEEPING BAG!? Panic ensues. I mean really! Do these people realize how much a TENT weighs?!?!
Apparently during training we will be taking, shall we say, 'little trips to the countryside.' These are called site visits, during which we will be split into groups, packed into Land Rovers and shipped off to actual Volunteers' sites to stay for a few days and experience village life as we should expect it to be. This I knew before hand. What I didn't realize is that we are expected to provide our own sleeping materials for these trips... Not that a sleeping bag would be a bad thing to have for other occasions, but a tent? Not happening.
So the discussions exploded. Who's packing, who's not, who's sharing with whom...I even offered my snuggling services in exchange for a space on someone's floor. In the big scheme of things, I don't suppose this is that big of a deal. Part of why we signed up for this whole thing is that we want an adventure, and part of what will make us successful is our ability to get creative, be flexible, and improvise. We probably don't even need anything, which is why the packing list that they give us is only full of suggestions, guidelines, and recommendations. We pick and choose what we absolutely can't live without. The significance for me was the wake-up call that this gave me. I thought I was doing fine, but now I feel like "Am I forgetting something really important?" The stress of packing was not something I was feeling. I had my tech squared away, my communication all strategized, and some leisurely shopping for the odd pair of socks or trousers in my future. And yet as I tottered hopelessly around the shelves of REI, my eyes glazing over with the slickest, sweetest stuff for the travel-savvy explorer (like chewable balls of energy, zippered suitcase organizers, and an ice pick-cum-boat anchor), I realized that maybe I was waaaaay more unprepared than I thought. I was totally content with my new lime green word-combo luggage locks, but suddenly they seemed so paltry, insignificant compared to how much stuff I was missing out on.
After an evening of frenzied research, I came to the following conclusions:1) I am not a turtle, I do not carry my house on my back, therefore...no tent. 2) I am a small person, I need a warm place to sleep, therefore...kid's sized sleeping bag, rated to +30 (I also get cold easily, which is why I asked to go to Africa). 3) I will, in all likelihood, bring something that I will never need and/or use, I will not bring something that I do need and don't realize it, therefore...no stressing about packing. I refuse to let myself get worked up. End of story.
I have a feeling that we will all be laughing about this one 'round the campfire in a few months' time. "Hey, remember that one time when we were all freaking out about sherpa-ing our way through these site-visits? Hardy-hardy-harr! Here, have some misquito netting..." Goodtimes. 'Til then...
xo
ash
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
28 days later...
Only this time, it's not zombies invading Hollywood or New York. Rather, an estimated 53 starry-eyed and dream-laden PCT (Peace Corps Trainees) will invade the relatively quiet and peaceful country of Zambia. From the Facebook wall we've been blowing up for the past few months, I have the sneaking suspicion that, for better or worse, said African country will never be the same. I'm totally stoked.
That's right kids. While retreating away to my grandparents' ranch in the middle of nowhere this past week, I received an e-mail from the PC Staging desk with the final details ("Reporting Instructions." With capital letters. Oh yea.) of when and where we will be leaving. The date has been moved up a bit, and we'll be leaving from Philly, apparently. All in all, very exciting news, especially the bit that said we will begin this mind-blowing adventure at 2:00 in the morning. How's that for a starting gun, eh?
Time to get serious about packing, I guess. With regards to my last post about my little shoe Problem, let's just say that I reached a stand-off of sorts. My sandals, I think, will work well, although the blog-o-sphere will be the first to know if circumstances turn otherwise. As for my matronly mules that I still can't bring myself to buy... well, it will probably be down to the very last minute before I reach a solid decision. Right now, the predominant opinion among myselves is that just because we are moving to Zambia doesn't mean our style will change. Why bother trying? I know that I will definitely sleep better beneath my mosquito net at night just knowing that I have a smashing pair of pumps standing by in case the need arises. My luggage weight limit might make this difficult decision for me...
All in all, time is ticking on and the days are flying by. Lists generally aren't my thing, but I have been reverting back to scribbling on a variety of handy tablets to ensure that I don't forget something critical (like gummie bears and canceling my health insurance), a technique I perfected in while in school during finals week. I haven't really had time to ponder the weightiness of these last few weeks home. I'm sure the moment will come soon, and when it does, I will have a variety of insightful revelations to wade through and match with overwhelming emotions. Until then....
xo
ash
That's right kids. While retreating away to my grandparents' ranch in the middle of nowhere this past week, I received an e-mail from the PC Staging desk with the final details ("Reporting Instructions." With capital letters. Oh yea.) of when and where we will be leaving. The date has been moved up a bit, and we'll be leaving from Philly, apparently. All in all, very exciting news, especially the bit that said we will begin this mind-blowing adventure at 2:00 in the morning. How's that for a starting gun, eh?
Time to get serious about packing, I guess. With regards to my last post about my little shoe Problem, let's just say that I reached a stand-off of sorts. My sandals, I think, will work well, although the blog-o-sphere will be the first to know if circumstances turn otherwise. As for my matronly mules that I still can't bring myself to buy... well, it will probably be down to the very last minute before I reach a solid decision. Right now, the predominant opinion among myselves is that just because we are moving to Zambia doesn't mean our style will change. Why bother trying? I know that I will definitely sleep better beneath my mosquito net at night just knowing that I have a smashing pair of pumps standing by in case the need arises. My luggage weight limit might make this difficult decision for me...
All in all, time is ticking on and the days are flying by. Lists generally aren't my thing, but I have been reverting back to scribbling on a variety of handy tablets to ensure that I don't forget something critical (like gummie bears and canceling my health insurance), a technique I perfected in while in school during finals week. I haven't really had time to ponder the weightiness of these last few weeks home. I'm sure the moment will come soon, and when it does, I will have a variety of insightful revelations to wade through and match with overwhelming emotions. Until then....
xo
ash
Thursday, December 31, 2009
Stupid Hippie Shoes
I have a problem.
I don't mean a problem like the kind that pops up urgently and can only be solved by immediate application of skill, planning, and martial arts. I mean like a "problem" problem. The kind that cuts into your daily life, preys on your savings account, and instigates the slow alienation of all of your friends. It raises concern among your loved ones; "Ashley, why are you buying that fabulous pair of heels when you are moving to Africa for two years?" They mean well, I know, but I already realize the depths of my troubles. Admitting that you have a problem is the first step to recovery, I hear, so I'll say it again: I am obsessed with shoes.
My problem has actually led me to have a problem, this time the urgent issue kind. This particular problem stems from the fact that I can't possibly, in good conscience, spend money on a pair of drab, unimaginative mules. But let me back up for just a minute and explain so you can get the full scope of my problem(s). I love heels. The really cute, really high, really impractical, totally full-of-sass heels. I believe in good footwear...so sue me. This is my Problem. The problem that my Problem has left me with is this: I need a pair of dress shoes for Zambia. All of my dress shoes are no shorter than 3" high, and totally inappropriate for bicycling around the African bush. But I still need a pair of professional dressy shoes. My heart says heels. My mind says mules. I cringe deep down.
This conundrum is what prompted the two-day long Footwear Research and Acquisition Binge that my poor laptop has recently been subjected to. I have good, sturdy work-the-land shoes which will last me, for all practical purposes, until Armageddon. After all, I live on a farm. However, I realized that in order to be sufficiently shod for all of my African adventures, I would need nice shoes, but not heels, and hard-core sandals (I suspect that my standard $7.99 flip-flops are sooooo not up to the task of my future safari-style living). Staring at my computer screen filled with shoes until my eyes bleed, I realize that my Problem is worse than I realized when I found myself Ebay-watching two pairs of Kate Spades, a gorgeous pair of retro Pradas and the most perfect ruby red Louboutin Rolandos...FAIL.
I decided in order to satisfy my Problem and solve my problem, I would compromise. Unflashy, boring, 1.5" heeled, black, all-purpose dress shoes...but they're used Salvatore Ferragamos. $300 shoes that I found for $37.00. I could feel a hint of a smile returning to my feet. Italian- made would definitely last long against the rigors of Zambian hut-life, but I could still slip them on my feet and feel smashing. Well, maybe not smashing, per se, but at least a darn sight better than how I would feel in generic Payless ballet flats. AND, they're definitely worn, so I won't feel so bad when I scuff the toe on my bicycle. Item one, check.
I figured while I was at this, I might as well focus on my second shoe situation: the need for a sturdy pair of work-the-land-last-til-Armageddon sandals. Ripping myself away from the Givenchy Fall '09 collection, I began my research on what might best suit my purposes. Upon delving into the depths of Birkenstock foot wear, I ran into another roadblock. My Problem, you know, that Problem, was writhing in demonic agony as if the specimens in front of it were a collection of crucifixes, like Balthazaar confronted with Holy Water. The words thundered in my skull like a malediction: Hippie shoes, hippie shoes, hippie shoooooooooes.
Not that there's anything wrong with hippies. In fact, I consider myself a neo-hippie (although I do bathe and plan on shaving my legs in my open-air, thatch-roofed bath hut, even if I have to use my new leatherman Crocodile Dundee-style). I even had a pair of Baby Birks when I was a wee tot, and they were quite comfy (incidently, my concern with good footwear comes from my mother). No, the issue was, as much as I have respect for hippies and the traditional foot garb of the hippie, my Problem abhorrs the hippie vibe. Boho? Totally cool. Funky retro? Also awesome. Straight-up, socially awkward, fashion-ignorant, BO-scented, Save-The-Spotted-Porpoises hippie? Not so swell. I was in middle school once, and I have no desire to return there in my twenties, Peace Corps stereo-type or not. Another compromise was in order.
My second dillemma was proving to be more difficult than the first. I read coustomer reviews, examined colors and tech specs, did price comparisons. Deep down, I knew that I needed a sandal that could stand up to the rough-life, not just "feel comfortable all day as I walked around Europe on our two week vacation." Two years in rural Zambia will take a toll on these buggers, and I need to be on my feet hauling water, gathering wood, building cooking fires and walking to the market. Despite my Problem, I'm a realist. And yet, I just couldn't bring myself to go the whole hog and buy the hardest of the hard-core sandals. I'm still at a stand-off with my Problem. I ordered a pair of Tevas, not the amphibious, trek-across-the-Sahara style, but the grade below it, which is still above the Oh-I-could-totally-get-used-to-these cute style. I read the return policy, and am prepared to continue my search should they arrive and my Problem doesn't feel like we could live and work in harmony...or if they don't fit. At this point, I know which option worries me more.
In other news, this has been, thus far the biggest challenge in my preparations. Christmas was a success, full of used and sustainable goodness, and I am one retro messenger bag, Solio charger, Zambia guide book and several journals more prepared for my departure. Can't wait to ring in the new year. I have a feeling 2010 is going to be more awesome than I can possibly imagine!
peace.
xo
ash
I don't mean a problem like the kind that pops up urgently and can only be solved by immediate application of skill, planning, and martial arts. I mean like a "problem" problem. The kind that cuts into your daily life, preys on your savings account, and instigates the slow alienation of all of your friends. It raises concern among your loved ones; "Ashley, why are you buying that fabulous pair of heels when you are moving to Africa for two years?" They mean well, I know, but I already realize the depths of my troubles. Admitting that you have a problem is the first step to recovery, I hear, so I'll say it again: I am obsessed with shoes.
My problem has actually led me to have a problem, this time the urgent issue kind. This particular problem stems from the fact that I can't possibly, in good conscience, spend money on a pair of drab, unimaginative mules. But let me back up for just a minute and explain so you can get the full scope of my problem(s). I love heels. The really cute, really high, really impractical, totally full-of-sass heels. I believe in good footwear...so sue me. This is my Problem. The problem that my Problem has left me with is this: I need a pair of dress shoes for Zambia. All of my dress shoes are no shorter than 3" high, and totally inappropriate for bicycling around the African bush. But I still need a pair of professional dressy shoes. My heart says heels. My mind says mules. I cringe deep down.
This conundrum is what prompted the two-day long Footwear Research and Acquisition Binge that my poor laptop has recently been subjected to. I have good, sturdy work-the-land shoes which will last me, for all practical purposes, until Armageddon. After all, I live on a farm. However, I realized that in order to be sufficiently shod for all of my African adventures, I would need nice shoes, but not heels, and hard-core sandals (I suspect that my standard $7.99 flip-flops are sooooo not up to the task of my future safari-style living). Staring at my computer screen filled with shoes until my eyes bleed, I realize that my Problem is worse than I realized when I found myself Ebay-watching two pairs of Kate Spades, a gorgeous pair of retro Pradas and the most perfect ruby red Louboutin Rolandos...FAIL.
I decided in order to satisfy my Problem and solve my problem, I would compromise. Unflashy, boring, 1.5" heeled, black, all-purpose dress shoes...but they're used Salvatore Ferragamos. $300 shoes that I found for $37.00. I could feel a hint of a smile returning to my feet. Italian- made would definitely last long against the rigors of Zambian hut-life, but I could still slip them on my feet and feel smashing. Well, maybe not smashing, per se, but at least a darn sight better than how I would feel in generic Payless ballet flats. AND, they're definitely worn, so I won't feel so bad when I scuff the toe on my bicycle. Item one, check.
I figured while I was at this, I might as well focus on my second shoe situation: the need for a sturdy pair of work-the-land-last-til-Armageddon sandals. Ripping myself away from the Givenchy Fall '09 collection, I began my research on what might best suit my purposes. Upon delving into the depths of Birkenstock foot wear, I ran into another roadblock. My Problem, you know, that Problem, was writhing in demonic agony as if the specimens in front of it were a collection of crucifixes, like Balthazaar confronted with Holy Water. The words thundered in my skull like a malediction: Hippie shoes, hippie shoes, hippie shoooooooooes.
Not that there's anything wrong with hippies. In fact, I consider myself a neo-hippie (although I do bathe and plan on shaving my legs in my open-air, thatch-roofed bath hut, even if I have to use my new leatherman Crocodile Dundee-style). I even had a pair of Baby Birks when I was a wee tot, and they were quite comfy (incidently, my concern with good footwear comes from my mother). No, the issue was, as much as I have respect for hippies and the traditional foot garb of the hippie, my Problem abhorrs the hippie vibe. Boho? Totally cool. Funky retro? Also awesome. Straight-up, socially awkward, fashion-ignorant, BO-scented, Save-The-Spotted-Porpoises hippie? Not so swell. I was in middle school once, and I have no desire to return there in my twenties, Peace Corps stereo-type or not. Another compromise was in order.
My second dillemma was proving to be more difficult than the first. I read coustomer reviews, examined colors and tech specs, did price comparisons. Deep down, I knew that I needed a sandal that could stand up to the rough-life, not just "feel comfortable all day as I walked around Europe on our two week vacation." Two years in rural Zambia will take a toll on these buggers, and I need to be on my feet hauling water, gathering wood, building cooking fires and walking to the market. Despite my Problem, I'm a realist. And yet, I just couldn't bring myself to go the whole hog and buy the hardest of the hard-core sandals. I'm still at a stand-off with my Problem. I ordered a pair of Tevas, not the amphibious, trek-across-the-Sahara style, but the grade below it, which is still above the Oh-I-could-totally-get-used-to-these cute style. I read the return policy, and am prepared to continue my search should they arrive and my Problem doesn't feel like we could live and work in harmony...or if they don't fit. At this point, I know which option worries me more.
In other news, this has been, thus far the biggest challenge in my preparations. Christmas was a success, full of used and sustainable goodness, and I am one retro messenger bag, Solio charger, Zambia guide book and several journals more prepared for my departure. Can't wait to ring in the new year. I have a feeling 2010 is going to be more awesome than I can possibly imagine!
peace.
xo
ash
Thursday, December 17, 2009
T-minus two months!
Holy moley! I'm not sure how it happened but a whole month+ has flown by since I last posted. Sorry to all my faithful readers, I'm sure there are legions of you out there who are sooooo dissapointed by my lack of communication.
It's hard to believe almost. I feel as though nothing truely noteworthy has happened in the past weeks enough to warrant a post, and yet reading through my last one I realize that my state of being has changed dramatically. The funniest thing has happened to my sense of time; I feel like my existance has entered a state of stasis. Every day is pretty much the same routine. I'm savoring the little moments as they come. There is no longer this looming question mark as to my future and I feel like I can just enjoy my time home with my parents. Relief might be the proper word for it, but there are definite undernotes of peace, happiness, bordem, and restlessness in there too. Typical two-faced Gemini, if one part of me is happy, the other part(s) are just whining and looking forward to something else. As such, I feel as though each day is a continuium of distraction and focus, with the minutes, for some strange reason, passing more slowly than the hours.
As if to illustrate this fact, my mother reminded me this morning that it is exactly two months until I leave. The funny thing is that I spent the whole previous day shopping and crafting a x-mas present (which, due to it's super awesomeness and confidential nature, I can only say it concerns my not being here next year at this time), and all the time I was thinking about living overseas (and how great this present is going to be!). However, the biggest, most exciting significance of today in my head is that my sister comes home for Christmas break, not my countdown. It struck me as evidence of my state of mind right now. Zambia is totally in my head, and yet I'm not obsessing about it right now. This realization is HUGE for me! I, much to my chagrin, tend to daydream and romanticize the future, and it is a big step of personal growth that I am not allowing myself to go there. I think I know that my success in this venture is dependant on me not having any preconcieved notions or expectations. I already know that this is going to be unlike anything I have ever attemped before, and so I have forced myself to give up trying to imagine it. Instead, I am focusing on capturing moments that I can keep for the future and pull out when necessary (the good ones and the bad ones). I remind myself that I am not there to travel and vacation; I am going over there to work and live. Moreover, I keep trying to put things in persective, recognize moments as they come and acknowledge how I might be feeling six months in, 10 months, 20 months, ect. This is a long haul. I think my mind and body know this and they are forcing me to get as much emotional rest as possible.
Therefore, I pass the time now with things like making gingerbread houses and playing Candy Land. Am I regressing? Probably, but after my four years of undergrad, I feel like I deserve a little bit of a break from thinking and being responsible. AND, I know that I won't have this same opportunity once I start my big-girl job in a foreign country. So you see, I am in stasis. Recouping, recovering, regressing, and resting. I feel almost like a warrior meditating before battle, doing things like sharpening my sword and snatching up all of the fabulous holiday deals on extra bras and socks (I do feel bad for all those poor people leaving in August-ish. I've gotten some killer deals...)
As it is only a little over a week until Christmas, I have now finally allowed myself to get in the spirit. I'm not normally a big Christmas person. I find the holidays dark, stressful, gluttonus, and hypocritical. And cold. In many ways, I will be glad to not be here for the next two. I can only imagine how nice it will be to be in a place where x-mas is simple, loving, and more of what it's supposed to be, and not be assaulted with obnoxious music for the 45 days of Christmas. However, the time has come to celebrate. Mostly because I realized I only have about a week to finish all of my gifts that I have been making! Eeeek! (On a side note, you all should check out this movement called Advent Conspiracy. Totally sums up what my family has been trying to do by scaling back and buy used/sustainable gifts, and I love, love, love that other people are having the same idea. Plus the guy who got it started is in Portland! Way to rep counter-culture, west coast!) With that, I hope you all relish this holiday with your loved ones, remember those who have left, don't buy too much crap, and....umm, do something you've never done before to send off 2009 in a stylin' way. It's what I'll be doing any way. :D
Peace.
xo
ash
It's hard to believe almost. I feel as though nothing truely noteworthy has happened in the past weeks enough to warrant a post, and yet reading through my last one I realize that my state of being has changed dramatically. The funniest thing has happened to my sense of time; I feel like my existance has entered a state of stasis. Every day is pretty much the same routine. I'm savoring the little moments as they come. There is no longer this looming question mark as to my future and I feel like I can just enjoy my time home with my parents. Relief might be the proper word for it, but there are definite undernotes of peace, happiness, bordem, and restlessness in there too. Typical two-faced Gemini, if one part of me is happy, the other part(s) are just whining and looking forward to something else. As such, I feel as though each day is a continuium of distraction and focus, with the minutes, for some strange reason, passing more slowly than the hours.
As if to illustrate this fact, my mother reminded me this morning that it is exactly two months until I leave. The funny thing is that I spent the whole previous day shopping and crafting a x-mas present (which, due to it's super awesomeness and confidential nature, I can only say it concerns my not being here next year at this time), and all the time I was thinking about living overseas (and how great this present is going to be!). However, the biggest, most exciting significance of today in my head is that my sister comes home for Christmas break, not my countdown. It struck me as evidence of my state of mind right now. Zambia is totally in my head, and yet I'm not obsessing about it right now. This realization is HUGE for me! I, much to my chagrin, tend to daydream and romanticize the future, and it is a big step of personal growth that I am not allowing myself to go there. I think I know that my success in this venture is dependant on me not having any preconcieved notions or expectations. I already know that this is going to be unlike anything I have ever attemped before, and so I have forced myself to give up trying to imagine it. Instead, I am focusing on capturing moments that I can keep for the future and pull out when necessary (the good ones and the bad ones). I remind myself that I am not there to travel and vacation; I am going over there to work and live. Moreover, I keep trying to put things in persective, recognize moments as they come and acknowledge how I might be feeling six months in, 10 months, 20 months, ect. This is a long haul. I think my mind and body know this and they are forcing me to get as much emotional rest as possible.
Therefore, I pass the time now with things like making gingerbread houses and playing Candy Land. Am I regressing? Probably, but after my four years of undergrad, I feel like I deserve a little bit of a break from thinking and being responsible. AND, I know that I won't have this same opportunity once I start my big-girl job in a foreign country. So you see, I am in stasis. Recouping, recovering, regressing, and resting. I feel almost like a warrior meditating before battle, doing things like sharpening my sword and snatching up all of the fabulous holiday deals on extra bras and socks (I do feel bad for all those poor people leaving in August-ish. I've gotten some killer deals...)
As it is only a little over a week until Christmas, I have now finally allowed myself to get in the spirit. I'm not normally a big Christmas person. I find the holidays dark, stressful, gluttonus, and hypocritical. And cold. In many ways, I will be glad to not be here for the next two. I can only imagine how nice it will be to be in a place where x-mas is simple, loving, and more of what it's supposed to be, and not be assaulted with obnoxious music for the 45 days of Christmas. However, the time has come to celebrate. Mostly because I realized I only have about a week to finish all of my gifts that I have been making! Eeeek! (On a side note, you all should check out this movement called Advent Conspiracy. Totally sums up what my family has been trying to do by scaling back and buy used/sustainable gifts, and I love, love, love that other people are having the same idea. Plus the guy who got it started is in Portland! Way to rep counter-culture, west coast!) With that, I hope you all relish this holiday with your loved ones, remember those who have left, don't buy too much crap, and....umm, do something you've never done before to send off 2009 in a stylin' way. It's what I'll be doing any way. :D
Peace.
xo
ash
Thursday, November 5, 2009
Let the countdown begin
So, it's been a busy couple of weeks since I recieved my invitation. I read, re-read, and re-re-read everything that came with my kit, wanting to make sure that I was absolutely as stoked as possible when I called to accept. As of monday 10/26, I am now slated to go. I got all of my passport/visa stuff mailed off and sent of my updated resume/aspiration statement to the Zambia country desk, and am now wading through the piles of financial paperwork for my student loans. They are small and relatively insignificant in comparison to the rest of my college peers, however the challenge for me lies in the fact that they are two seperate loans and can be (and were) sold to seperate servicers. Servicers that have different deferrment paperwork. And payment addresses. Considering I will soon be living in a different country, and in a decidedly remote region, I decided that it would be best to consolidate to keep them hooked together. I have no desire to fight with SallieMae via telegram. Incidently, the 'credit crisis' has made that whole consolidation thing a whole lot more challenging. And the beat goes on.
Though I am trying hard not to think about it, I was caught in a vivid fantasy of travel the other day as I dropped a friend's car off at PDX. I got unbelievably excited as I imagined myself in a few months' time lugging my two bags for two years to board a plane to new and different places of the world. I know PC will be the most difficult thing I have ever done at this point in my life, and yet I still can't wait to experience it. Slightly masochistic? possibly... To spare my family's feelings, I have resisted dwelling too much on my impending departure, limiting mention of it in conversation and trying really, really hard not to daydream. I've been busy doing tons of research on Zambia, the different areas, the politics, the people, etc. Should I get an international cell before I leave, or wait til I'm in country? Do I even bother since I won't have electricity? So then do I spring for a solar charger? I think much of my mother's apprehension could be assuaged if I had a solid plan for communication other than snail mail. That may be all I get though. I am comfortable with this; her...not so much. Anyway, so I'm starting to think about things that would be good for x-mas for me. The uber-challenge is that my immediate family does this "sustainable christmas" thing, where we agree that we will only give gifts if they are used, re-newable, sustainable, or eco-friendly, which is waaaaaay more fun than it sounds (You can find the most amazing useful treasures at Goodwill and on Craigslist. And used underwear are the exception to the rule). So, how do you buy used for a soon-to-be PCV in rural Zambia who is limited to 80 lbs. of luggage? Good question. I'm thinking of saying that since I'm in Peace Corps, anything you get me will automatically be sustainable, but that kinda defeats the purpose of why we do it. We'll just have to get a little creative. And make a list, with guidelines. Incidently, this whole X-mas dillemma has been forcing be to think about my packing list probably earlier that I had wanted to. I just don't want people to buy me stuff that I won't use or take with me, you know?
In other news, I did apply for some jobs. Retail work during the holiday season does not seem pleasant, but it is kinda appropriate considering it would be easy to get (I interview really well) and they wouldn't expect me to stay for long. We'll see. I haven't got any calls back yet, and I can't decide if I'm happy about that or not. Well, I'm pretty okay with it. My checkbook is not so okay with it. At the rate I'm going right now with bills, I might have to resort to used underwear for presents after all...
So, I'm not sure how this happened, but my PCJ link is no longer in the applicant section, and is instead listed under Zambia. I did nothing to my account. I'm thinking that there is a tiny little person inside my computer listening to this and moving my flag for me. Rock on, I say. We'll see for sure when this is posted. If so, keep it up Applicants! Hopefully, all will remain a very exciting status quo on my end, but we all know that on this ride, anything can happen.
Peace. xo
ash
p.s. I did buy my second pair of glasses (ocularly challenged volunteers are required to bring two) when I ordered some more contacts. While I am not really looking forward to being a four-eyes again, my new frames are pretty sweet. I am going to miss eating hot food, dancing the the rain, and staring out of the perifs, all actions that I have come to love as an ardent contact lens-wearer. Oh well, I guess. I'm sure I'll find the upside after a while...
Though I am trying hard not to think about it, I was caught in a vivid fantasy of travel the other day as I dropped a friend's car off at PDX. I got unbelievably excited as I imagined myself in a few months' time lugging my two bags for two years to board a plane to new and different places of the world. I know PC will be the most difficult thing I have ever done at this point in my life, and yet I still can't wait to experience it. Slightly masochistic? possibly... To spare my family's feelings, I have resisted dwelling too much on my impending departure, limiting mention of it in conversation and trying really, really hard not to daydream. I've been busy doing tons of research on Zambia, the different areas, the politics, the people, etc. Should I get an international cell before I leave, or wait til I'm in country? Do I even bother since I won't have electricity? So then do I spring for a solar charger? I think much of my mother's apprehension could be assuaged if I had a solid plan for communication other than snail mail. That may be all I get though. I am comfortable with this; her...not so much. Anyway, so I'm starting to think about things that would be good for x-mas for me. The uber-challenge is that my immediate family does this "sustainable christmas" thing, where we agree that we will only give gifts if they are used, re-newable, sustainable, or eco-friendly, which is waaaaaay more fun than it sounds (You can find the most amazing useful treasures at Goodwill and on Craigslist. And used underwear are the exception to the rule). So, how do you buy used for a soon-to-be PCV in rural Zambia who is limited to 80 lbs. of luggage? Good question. I'm thinking of saying that since I'm in Peace Corps, anything you get me will automatically be sustainable, but that kinda defeats the purpose of why we do it. We'll just have to get a little creative. And make a list, with guidelines. Incidently, this whole X-mas dillemma has been forcing be to think about my packing list probably earlier that I had wanted to. I just don't want people to buy me stuff that I won't use or take with me, you know?
In other news, I did apply for some jobs. Retail work during the holiday season does not seem pleasant, but it is kinda appropriate considering it would be easy to get (I interview really well) and they wouldn't expect me to stay for long. We'll see. I haven't got any calls back yet, and I can't decide if I'm happy about that or not. Well, I'm pretty okay with it. My checkbook is not so okay with it. At the rate I'm going right now with bills, I might have to resort to used underwear for presents after all...
So, I'm not sure how this happened, but my PCJ link is no longer in the applicant section, and is instead listed under Zambia. I did nothing to my account. I'm thinking that there is a tiny little person inside my computer listening to this and moving my flag for me. Rock on, I say. We'll see for sure when this is posted. If so, keep it up Applicants! Hopefully, all will remain a very exciting status quo on my end, but we all know that on this ride, anything can happen.
Peace. xo
ash
p.s. I did buy my second pair of glasses (ocularly challenged volunteers are required to bring two) when I ordered some more contacts. While I am not really looking forward to being a four-eyes again, my new frames are pretty sweet. I am going to miss eating hot food, dancing the the rain, and staring out of the perifs, all actions that I have come to love as an ardent contact lens-wearer. Oh well, I guess. I'm sure I'll find the upside after a while...
Sunday, October 25, 2009
It's Official!
I'm off to ZAMBIA! I'm reading through all of my information and paperwork, getting ready to hit high gear, and will call to accept as soon as I can think straight again.
I've been invited to be part of the LIFE (Linking Income Food and Environment) project as an agroforestry extension agent and will probably spend most of my time in the dirt farming. I really couldn't be happier.
Now, does anyone know how to change the little flag thingy on my PCJ banner?
I've been invited to be part of the LIFE (Linking Income Food and Environment) project as an agroforestry extension agent and will probably spend most of my time in the dirt farming. I really couldn't be happier.
Now, does anyone know how to change the little flag thingy on my PCJ banner?
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