The Two Year Mark

Two years ago this morning I stepped off a Delta airplane onto the tarmac at Cheddi Jagan International Airport.

I remember feeling tired, but ecstatic; afraid, but anticipatory. I had just spent the day before with 33 strangers in a room at a fancy hotel in New York, and as we disembarked from our plane it was the collective start to all of our Peace Corps journeys.

I remember winter storms and our staging point changing from Philadelphia to New York in case we couldn’t get out of Philadelphia because of the massive 2009-2010 storms. I remember freezing in the New York cold, since I had only brought clothes for a tropical climate, and waiting to get past the gate to start my life for the next two years. I remember the red-eye flight, where I tried to sleep but I was too excited, so I watched the sun rise above the cloud cover and then watched the green trees and silver rivers unfold before the descending Boeing.  I remember all of this and much, much more from that epochal day two years ago.  

These last two years, all of “we” in Guy 22 trained, learned, and grew; some of us dropped, but many more continued. We’ve all made amazing friends, we’ve all pushed ourselves beyond our known capabilities, and we’ve all stepped out of our first-world comfort zones and into our third-world lives. Like a confused chameleon, we’ve tried to blend into our communities with our personalities and passions (for most of us will never blend in through physical appearance alone). We’ve attempted to motivate our counterparts and host country nationals, and, I guarantee, we’ve all felt both the bitter sting of failure and the ecstasy of success.  It’s been a rollercoaster, all ups and downs with nowhere in between. But I would never take it back. Two years ago this morning my life changed for the better.