Date: 9 June 2019
Location: Busoga’s Finest
Leaving my little house, I’m greeted by the children left and right.
It almost seems like they’re coming out of the corn fields because the number and kids slowly grows, one by one. It’s always nice to say hi to your neighbors, it’s a requirement living here in close quarters with the people here.
The smells of animal waste, or even from the neighborhood pit latrine wafts in the air as I passing by as I usually make my way to school.
what’s gucci lil poopy
Things are settling in, I’m starting to feel comfortable and am adjusting well.. but what now?
I think I’m slowly getting over the euphoric stage of Peace Corps, the whole experience of being a volunteer is cyclical as explained by previous PC Volunteer Trainers. For most, if not all, we will all be going through a very similar experience of having highs and lows. It’s not exclusive to this job, but any job for that matter.
I remember working in Starbucks or at my elementary school and it was a blast at first… then came to the point of realizing that things won’t always be the same. The simple and fun tasks may get mundane, and soon enough you adjust to the chaos that you once knew three weeks ago. Making coffee isn’t exactly the same as learning a new language, but you get the picture.
Are you hitting a low then?
NAHHH BOI. Maybe.
I think I’m more at the status quo right now. The context and considerations that we will be living in, as Peace Corps, volunteers slowly settles in to my mind. The job description that we signed up for is now piecing together with our language as I try to incorporate job-specific words for my service.
My determination isn’t waning, but it’s losing it’s aggression. My feelings towards service are not filled with fantasia any longer, but it is filled with the reality of what’s going on.
“hot damn, I’m in Uganda.”
Nothing particularly bothers me, but reaching this stage that goes beyond the realization, but more the acceptance of where I am living, it’s just an entirely different feeling.
It’s that same feeling when you realize that not everything you’ve learned in school might be politically correct. Understanding the origins of Thanksgiving, the many acts of American history that have been swept under the rug while we were learning them in elementary school, it’s that kind of thing.
It’s a weird feeling, and it’s hard to describe, but that’s where I’m at right now.