7 Reasons Why I'm NOT Leaving the Peace Corps

            I wrote an entire blog post on reasons why I want to go home. When I started writing it, I didn’t know that’s what it would turn into, but it did. Then I read it through, and deleted it right away. You know why? Because going home is not the decision I made.

            Recently I was talking to my Mom on the phone and trying to explain how I’ve been feeling the last few weeks. It’s really hard to explain, even to someone who understands me as much as my mom. I told her that Peace Corps is not a one-time decision. Peace Corps is a decision you make every. single. morning. Every day I wake up and I need to decide whether or not to stay. Now, of course some days this decision is incredibly easy that I barely think about it. But there are some days, weeks, and even months, where every day this question weighs heave on my heart, as it has the last few weeks.

            Before I go on, I want to remind people that leaving the Peace Corps is not really quitting. It’s just being brave enough to realize that either the job is not for you at this point in your life, or that the job is completed before the clock ran out. In the past few months there have been a few fellow PCVs who have made this decision, and written eloquent blog posts stating their sound reasons. So, in their style, I am creating this blog post.

            Why I’m NOT leaving the Peace Corps.

1. My job is not done. I am in the middle of this big library project, and things are even moving along as of now. And, although the numbers are fewer than I would like, I do have a few students who are really dedicated to learning English. In October when the school year starts, I will likely meet more. I am also in the planning stages of the second annual Create Cambodia Arts Festival, and there are whispers of a Girls Empowerment workshop for my province. I am part of a team creating a whole new curriculum and textbook series for the entire student body of Public School Cambodia to study English with. There are still things to be done here. Many of them could be done without me I realize, but I would be honored to be a part of it all.
2. My students. I mentioned above the handful of students who are dedicated learners. Well, they are also very dedicated to me. They are very much like younger siblings to me. I promised these kids 2 years and darn it, I’m gonna give it to them. A strange thing happened once I hit the 1 year mark. For certain students, I started seeing the imminent goodbye when I looked in their faces. It came on strong, strong enough to make me choke up a little. I know I’m way early for that, but I can’t pretend it’s not going to happen, that it’s not going to be final, and that it’s not going to be really really hard. I’m not ready for that goodbye yet.
3. Realistically, there’s nothing for me to rush home to. For a week or two things would seem perfect. I’d be right where I belong, surrounded by all my friends and family, but after a short time, life would go on. Friends and family would go back to their lives, and right now I don’t even have a life in America. I don’t have a job, any job prospects, or even really any idea of what I want to do. For at least a few months, I’d be keeping the couch warm, trying to figure out how this is better than sitting in Cambodia (aside from the comfy cushioning and temperate climate).
4. They asked me to stay. About 2 weeks ago, my oldest brother and also the Deputy School Director came to my house to visit with the family. Somehow, we began talking about my departure date in a year. He asked me what I was going to do afterwards. I told him I didn’t know. Then, he said one of the most loving things I’ve ever heard come out of his mouth. He asked me to stay. He told me I’m basically Khmer anyway. I speak the language, I know the customs, and I already have a built-in family. He said he could help me get a permanent job at the school, and he knows that the students and the community would be so ready to give me a great salary to teach private English classes. He said that marrying would be no problem for me, and I’d always have a home here. Of course I had to tell him that I couldn’t stay. But still, him asking meant a lot. Peace Corps applicants might be surprised to find out that in the Peace Corps, you can give everything you have from your time, to your expertise, and even to part of your own living allowance to your projects, but no one ever thanks you. I don’t expect thank yous, especially at this point, but this was probably the closest thing I’ve had to a thank you, and it felt even better.
5. I still have more to learn. I’m not so naive as to say that I know all there is to know about this country and these people. I am still learning about the language, the culture, the systems in place, the history, etc. The learning is much slower than when I first arrived, where on a bad day I learned 5 Khmer words a day. Now, if I’m lucky, I’ll learn 5 new words in a month. But still, it’s progress, and I do value everything I’ve learned about this country.
6. On the same thought process, I’m still learning more about ME and I’m still changing for what I believe is the better. Every day my patience is tested by people, time, the weather, and everything. Every day I’m forced to practice independence beyond what I ever thought I was capable of. I am constantly practicing forgiveness, grappling with my self esteem, considering creative alternative solutions, and doing my best to exemplify professionalism in a country where that trait is much less valued. And I’d be an idiot to say that I’m always successful at doing these things. Another year of practice might do me good.
7. The last reason is pretty simple. Regret. I don’t think I will regret staying. But if I leave, I think deep down I would always regret that decision. I don’t want to live with that. So this is for future Diana, to be regret free.

So far, the Peace Corps has given me the highest of highs and the lowest of lows and everything in between. In the blink of an eye, everything can change to the opposite of whatever yesterday was. Very often, I have not been in the driver seat of my own experience, but just sort of along for the ride, trying to grab hold of the steering wheel. Today, things may seem bleak, but who knows? Maybe tomorrow I'll be riding along as happy as a dog with my head out the window.

Besides, who would want a predictable life anyway. Not me.

Participating in the morning ceremonies of a wedding.

Traditional Khmer clothes.

We march down the street carrying gifts of fruit and Khmer cakes.

I let my sister dress me up for a wedding party. Oh, and I win at farmers tan.

The beginnings of the new library.

We took all the garbage, broken desks, and other useless things that were in there, and cleaned it up as best as we could.

And then started painting.

The students did most of the work.

Colors were chosen by my counterpart, Lina.

Half of the room is yellow.

We painted a green trim.

And the other side of the room blue.

Finished