should have turned around and left before the sun came up again

Today a friend and respected fellow volunteer told me- “I don’t know how you are doing it. I couldn’t, I would have been long gone by now.” Hmm. I am not going to lie, there have definitely been days when I thought, ok, well, I am done with this now. Not in a dramatic fit of tears, or in the middle of the night when the rats are creeping closer to my bed. But just in the middle of a mundane task I catch myself thinking, solid effort but I think I will take that free plane ticket home now.

One of the things that I hated about life and work in the US was the feeling that I was trapped. Waking up Monday morning to a blaring alarm I couldn’t help but think, only 4 more days of dragging my ass out of bed until I can decide how to spend my time for 48 hours. Or looking at a calendar and counting the months until the next paid holiday. And I enjoyed my job, it was something that I was passionate about and felt served a necessary purpose. I enjoyed my co-workers and was not actively looking for work anywhere else. But still, I felt trapped. MondayTuesdayWednesdayThursdayFriday, Weekend, repeat.

I love that in Peace Corps each day is different, or the same, but either way I get to make the choice. I am the master of my daily destiny, and its wonderful. I get out of bed at 6am some days to run before it gets to hot out, and other days I stay in bed until 9am. Some Sundays I sit in a rocking chair the entire day and read. I have started and finished multiple books all in the same day. If I need to go into town to run errands I can dedicate an entire day to errand running. If a friend is having a rough time then I go spend the night at her site. I get to play soccer every afternoon and pick fruit off the trees with the kiddos. I love the freedom.

What a stark contrast: US trapedness and Peace Corps freedom. Makes Peace Corps sounds like the obvious choice (for me at least). But then why is that ticket home so tempting sometimes. I’m not sure if I know why. It’s probably the other side of the freedom coin. Free to stay or free to go.  Free to choose, obligated to choose.

I think the important point is that I’m not thinking about leaving in the midst of emotional turmoil or overwhelming fear. I am thinking about leaving in moments of adjustment or uncomfortableness. When I pour myself a cup of coffee and just as I am bending over to take the first blessed sip, a drip of my sweat drops on in. Or when I get off the bus in the early evening just as it starts to downpour and not a single car passes me until I am 5 minutes from home. Or when I hungrily sit down to lunch and then realize that after my first bite of rice and beans, my appetite has begun yet another protest in search of variety.

 If you read this and finish thinking: “Well it sounds like Chelsea is really struggling and is ready to call it quits”—then you missed the point completely.