New Website

All right, I had to do it!

My new blog is located at melampton.wordpress.com. I'll probably be working on it and making it prettier when I have some time on my hands, so expect to see changes and things moving around until I have it the way I like. When I leave for Ukraine, I will be password protecting the entries, so you're going to have to drop me a line at melampton@gmail.com if you want it (unless you're family, I'll probably send out an e-mail at some point). I guess I should figure out what the password is going to be...

Oh, well, back to writing!

Future Reference

A quick little update between bouts of brilliant writing on my MA thesis.

I have recently learned that PC Ukraine has a policy where the blogs of volunteers have to be password protected. So unless I can figure out how to protect this blog, I will probably be moving from blogspot to wordpress, which does have the option of password protecting posts. I will let y'all know if/when this move happens and how you can reach me to get the password.

Back to that thesis!

IMC 2010

Last week was the International Medieval Congress here in Leeds. It's one of the largest gatherings of medievalists in the world, and is a nerdy medievalist's heaven: four intense days of papers, lectures, discussions, workshops, and a dance. I went to so many sessions I felt like my brain was about to leak from my ears, but I truly enjoyed most of them. One of the sessions I went to was a round table discussion for a coming conference on gender, time, and memory (I keep finding myself being sucked into gender studies...). It was really interesting, and I was actually able to contribute to the discussion (a first!) and offer ideas for potential papers while advising others on their work. Afterwards, one of the speakers approached me and asked me if I would be submitting a paper to the conference because she really liked my ideas and wanted to hear more about them. I told her I couldn't. She was persistent, asking me why. I explained to her that I would be in Ukraine next January, when the conference will be held, and there would be no way I could attend. She seemed disappointed (and surprised that I am only an MA student), telling me she hoped to see me soon at the very least.

I also presented my own paper at the IMC. It was on Icelandic literature and was an exploration of how Örvar-Odds saga is a critique of the fornaldarsögur (sounds impressive, huh?). It went incredibly well. I made people laugh (intentionally) and was told that my paper was very easy to follow and my argument was very clear. Afterwards, I was approached by multiple different people, PhD candidates, Professors, people who study Icelandic literature for a living, asking me if I would publish the paper, would I continue my study in Icelandic literature, and where I would be going for my PhD next year. I told all of them that, while I will try to publish my paper someday, I wasn't going to be starting my PhD anytime soon. Each of them asked me why, and I found myself explaining over and over again that I was going into the Peace Corps and that I would be in Ukraine come this fall. It was intense.

It just really put my decision to join the Peace Corps instead of getting my PhD right away into perspective. I have been encouraged by a couple of my professors to get my PhD, but the response I received during the IMC was overwhelming. It just made me wonder, made me think about this choice I'm making and how...sad I am about how my formal study in medieval literature is coming to an end, even if it turns out to be temporary. There's nothing wrong with taking a couple of years off between my MA and my PhD, in fact it's something I would encourage since I am so thankful I took a year off between my BA and my MA, but it still made me think about my future and how sad I am leaving academia behind. I know I'm not ready to settle down to work on a PhD for 4-6 years just yet, I know I wouldn't be happy doing that right now, I have too much of the wanderlust, too many things I want to do and see, but what about after the Peace Corps? Will I be ready then? Or will I never be able to completely settle down in the way needed to work in academia? Will I ever be able to return for my PhD, ever return to the field that I love so passionately but which still doesn't completely satisfy me?

I think that's ultimately the problem. I just don't know what I want to do after the Peace Corps. I know, I know, I haven't even left yet, I have plenty of time to figure it out, over 27 months in fact. But there are so many things I want in life, so many things I want to do, and I'm just not sure which path I should choose, if any of them would actually completely satisfy me. It saddens and, yes, frightens me to know that I may ultimately not continue in academia, may not get my PhD when it's something I want so badly. To know that this might really be the end of my studies. The IMC really put that all into perspective, made me realise what exactly I'm giving up, what exactly I'm leaving behind as I prepare to leave for the Peace Corps. It's going to be worth it, I know. The Peace Corps is going to be amazing, it's going to be such an experience. But still...

No matter what ultimately happens, though, I plan on trying to get a couple of things published over the next few years while in Ukraine. I'm pretty sure I could get two or three articles out of my MA thesis plus that Icelandic paper, and if I could get something published, it would look really good on my resume if I do continue in academia and apply to get my PhD (which would offset my awful GRE Subject Test score...boo to the GRE Subject Test...). Maybe I won't continue in academia, maybe this really is the end, but I'm not willing to shut that door just yet. I'm going to keep my options open, and maybe, hopefully, the next few years in the Peace Corps will help me decide what my next step will be.

And besides, even if I don't end up in academia, it's not like I can't study medieval literature on my own. I love what I do, I love it so freaking much, and that will never go away, no matter what. What can I say, I'm a nerdy medievalist at heart.

Passport Fun - International Style

You may recall in a past post how I was concerned about how the whole passport thing was going to work out since I'm currently living in England and won't be returning to the States until late August. I didn't know at the time that Peace Corps volunteers don't use their personal passports to travel with (which makes me sad - I was really looking forward to a Ukraine visa to go along with my China and UK ones). Instead, we use a special government type passport. So all volunteers must apply for this special passport.

The e-mail I received after accepting my invitation basically said: You have three options - 1) If you have a passport, use this form; 2) If you don't have a passport or are traveling, use a different form; 3) If you are applying overseas, call the travel agency. I called the travel agency, and explained my situation to them, which was actually really amusing and went something like this:

Me: 'I need to apply for my passport and visa but I'm living in the UK and the e-mail I received said to call you.'
Them: 'When are you leaving for service?'
Me: 'September.'
Them: 'And when do you return to the States from the UK?'
Me: 'September.'
Them: '...'
Me: '...'
Them: 'Really?'

The people I spoke to were really nice about it and told me what I needed to do: I had to go to the U.S. Embassy with my form and passport and they would make an official copy of my passport that I could send in lieu of my real passport, since I need it to get back into the country. I just started to laugh. Really? I had to go to the Embassy in London (about 2 1/2 hours away by train)? Sure, why not, sounds like fun, and I'm always down for a road trip. Plus there's this pretty decent Mexican restaurant in that area of the city that I could go to. Hoping online, I went to the website for the U.S. Embassy in London and learned they have no available appointments until August 27th, the day I will be back in the States. Ahh...nothing is ever that easy, is it?

Calling the travel people back, I told them what was what (the person I spoke to said, and I quote: 'Sounds like you're up a creek without a paddle.' It took all of my will power not to bust out laughing), but the woman who could help me was out for lunch so I would need to call back. In the meantime, I did a little research and found out that the consulate up in Edinburgh (about 3 hours away) does passport stuff as well, and they had lots of appointments available! I decided to just go ahead and book an appointment with them and just hope for the best. Besides, I've been meaning to head up to Edinburgh since I would rather spend the time Dad and I will be in Scottland visiting the parts of the country I can't get to easily. I wish I could have stayed there overnight, but things didn't quite work out since I had other appointments scheduled for this week.

Anyways, yesterday I headed up to Edinburgh with all of my paperwork. My appointment was at 12:30 and I arrived at 12:00 (I have a habit of being perpetually early), but people were sitting on the steps of the building, which really confused me. Turns out it was a queue. A queue that went out the door. Brilliant. It wasn't bad, though, just a little cold as I sat on the steps with everybody else reading the book I had brought until I was allowed to head inside at around 1:30 and wait in there. I was finally called up at about 2:00, and it took a total of 3 minutes to give them all my paperwork, explain what I needed, and to be told it would take at least an hour for everything to be processed. Gotta love it.

When I was finally called back up, turns out the guy who watched me sign my application was a RPCV (Returned Peace Corps Volunteer) who had served in Tonga in the 90's, and we chatted about what it's like to volunteer and what it's like to work in the Foreign Service, a career I've been entertaining pursuing someday (he said it's simliar to serving in the Peace Corps except you get paid - love it!). He also explained why things had taken so long that day - apparently a lot of the usual staff was still on vacation for the 4th. I happily walked out of the consulate at 3:00 with my forms.

At 3:15 I was back, knocking on their door asking to be let back in because, after reading the instructions provided by the Peace Corps, I was afraid things had been messed up. He was really nice, read over the instructions and called his supervisor in London. The thing I was worried about I was told not to worry about (the instructions said they would seal the application in an envelope, which they didn't do and they assure me they don't need to do), but it's a good thing I did go back, because he was supposed to include a seal on the application showing that I had gone to the consulate to have it done. Application freshly sealed, I walked out of the consulate at 3:30, after 3 1/2 hours, still a little worried about the fact my stuff wasn't sealed in an envelope, but deciding everything would work out.

I spent the rest of the day walking around Edinburgh and went on a freaky ghost tour of a part of the underground city called 'City of the Dead'. Very very cool, I definitely recommend it. Then I hopped back on the train and came back home. It was a very long but enjoyable day. Today I'm going to head to UPS and mail the forms off and hope for the best! Then I'm pretty much done with Peace Corps stuff for a few weeks until it's time to start thinking about arranging my travel and purchasing the things I'm going to need for my time in Ukraine. I'm so excited!

Balancing Act

It's been a fun week! Lots of stuff due very quickly all at the same time. I'm juggling all the Peace Corps stuff with my academic things, and I have to be careful to strike a delicate balance so I can get everything done without stressing myself out (seriously, it's summer, the first summer I haven't worked since I was 16 - I'm taking it pretty easy right now despite all the things I need to do).

My to do list:

• Peace Corps: Aspiration Statement (finish by Friday)
• Peace Corps: Update my resume (finish by Friday)
• Peace Corps: Apply for passport and visa (as soon as possible)
• Academic: Thesis rough draft - 1,000-2,000 words (finish by Sunday)
• Academic: Conference paper - 20 minute paper (finish by next week)

Peace Corps wise, the statement and resume are almost done. I'm irritated I don't have my teacher training information here with me to put on my resume, but all that stuff is in storage back home so I'm just going to have to let it go. And the statement! The questions are so vague I don't even know where to begin. I spent all day yesterday poking at it and, well, I'm not too terribly impressed with what I've written. I'll look over it again a few more times before I send it out in a couple of days. I have an appointment next week to hopefully get the passport and visa stuff taken care of, and I'll tell y'all all about the fun adventure that's sure to turn into (ROAD TRIP!).

In between all this Peace Corps stuff I've continued working on my thesis. My supervisor wants me to send her a good chunk of the middle because we've been having trouble structuring my paper and she wants me to see if what we came up with is going to work. I've been finishing up my research and will hopefully start writing tomorrow, which will give me a couple of days to bang it out. Since I pretty much know what I want to write in my head, it should be really easy after I finish the last of my reading.

Now, that conference paper...that's going to be interesting. I was asked very last minute to present a paper at this huge conference here in Leeds by a friend because someone dropped out. This conference is one of the largest Medievalist conferences in the world (right up there with Kalamazoo) and, well, depending on the day I go from being pretty calm to freaking out. I've never presented a paper before and don't know how comfortable I feel (as a Masters student) presenting my ideas to people who've been doing this for years, especially over a topic I have only studied for a semester. Argh. I wrote the paper last term but haven't touched it to make it presentation worthy yet. I'll have a week to work on it after all these other deadlines are met, which will be plenty of time (I hope). Because, hey, at least I have a paper. Some people who are also presenting papers don't even have outlines for their papers yet. It'll be a good experience at the very least and will look great on my resume if I continue in academia after the Peace Corps.

It's all about balance, making sure I get everything done in time. I enjoy these kinds of balancing acts, though. Keeps life interesting. And after the conference, it's going to be smooth sailing until I'm back home.

And That, As They Say...

...is that.

After reading through all the materials they sent me, sleeping on it, and waking up still smiling, I sent in my formal acceptance. I'm going to Ukraine in September!

The response from family and friends has been overwhelming, and it warms my heart to know that everyone is supporting me so completely. I am truly blessed.

Now that I'm officially an Invitee, I have lots of things to take care of within the next ten days: update my resume (which hasn't changed much in the last month so will be easy), write my Aspiration Statement (to tell the in-country people how utterly awesome I am), fill out passport and visa applications (I have to find a UPS office...), and anything else the country desk tells me I need to do. All of this on top of a thesis rough draft due at the same time. Fun times!

After all of that is done, I'll have about a month downtime before I need to start thinking about insurance, travel arrangements, and buying the things I'm going to need for this adventure (read: warm clothes). I also need to roughly plan out my 20 days at home and buy plane tickets to visit people during that time (shout out to the Seester!). I must say I'm really glad Dad is coming to spend a week with me here in England before I head home (we're going to drive around Scotland!). It'll be really good to get some him-and-me time in before the whirlwind that will be my time back home.

Some things I learned in my reading:

• I'm going to be learning either Ukrainian or Russian during training, though I won't know which one until I arrive so there isn't much pre-departure prep I can do. However, there is a language program I'm supposed to look at provided by the PC. Ukrainian is the official language of the country, but since Russian was the official language for so long, a lot of parts still mainly speak that, though both languages are heard throughout the entire country.
• I will be working at a higher eduction institution in a small to medium size town. 'Higher education institution' can mean anything from a university, an institute, or a college that may have either a teaching, technical, or business orientation.
• Depending on where you are, Ukraine has cold winters with temperatures that dip below freezing and warm summers with temperatures that can get up to the 80s. There will be a betting pool established on how long it will take for this Texan girl to start complaining about the cold.

Random end note: I just realised something -  perogies, a dish I was introduced to here in England (thanks, Melody!), is a Ukrainian dish. I about spazzed. I LOVE perogies. The next two years are going to ROCK!

A Little Red Slip and a Big Blue Envelope

Every time I've walked into the mail room (yes, twice a day...), I've looked at the pile of packages, wondering if there were any new ones, if one of them could possibly be mine. I would open my mail box, hoping for the little red slip that would say I had a package, sighing in disappointment when there was nothing there.

This afternoon, there was a little red slip.

I felt myself get light headed as he pulled the package out from under the desk. I anxiously waited for him to find the book I had to sign, and, completely ignoring the elevator, I raced up the five flights of stairs to my flat. I quickly unloaded my backpack, taking deep breathes, putting things away until I could focus on the package. Ripping open the DHL packaging, I carefully pulled the contents out.

Finally, it was here. In my hands. The big blue envelope I've been hoping, praying, waiting for all of this time.

I opened the flap, and right in front was the paper that would satisfy all of my curiosity (it really did feel like Christmas morning):

Yes, that's right! I'm going to Ukraine to be a University English Teacher!!! I almost started to cry when I saw those words, I was so happy. I leave September 17th, 2010, which means I have a grand total of 21 days at home before I'm off on my next grand adventure. Wow, that's going to be fun!

I am absolutely ecstatic! This placement lets me work toward both of my possible future careers: my job position will give me experience if I decide to get my PhD and become a University professor, while living in the Ukraine means the possibility of learning Russian, a language that will really help me if I decide to join the State Department. It's perfect. I am So Unbelievably Happy!

However, I'm still going to read through everything before calling and accepting. Even though I am BEYOND happy, I want to be completely informed before making such a huge decision. This basically means that my productivity is shot for the day because will you look at all the stuff they sent me:

Going to take some time to get through that. I'll let you know what I learn!

Checking the Mail

The office of my dorm is only open for four hours every weekday: 8-10AM and 4-6 PM (closed on weekends). Our mail boxes are in the office, so if you want to check your mail, you have to do it during those hours. During this school year, I have checked the mail maybe a dozen times total, most of those during the anxious month when I was waiting for a letter from my endocrinologist to prove to the Peace Corps I'm perfectly healthy. So the fact that I checked my mail twice today and anticipate this to be the trend until I have my invite in hand should really tell you something.

At first, I was determined to avoid becoming obsessive and only check the mail in the mornings after my jog. I came back to the building, ran downstairs, went to the office, and then headed back to my flat. No big deal, totally easy. No need to dwell any more on it. I decided to leave the building and work on campus to avoid even the possibility of temptation to check it again this afternoon. I mean, seriously, it's Monday. The invite was sent off on Friday at the earliest. No way it's going to be here yet. I diligently worked on campus all day, and when I finished everything I had, I went back to the dorm, smugly patting myself on the back for my clever plan to avoid the mail room. But an unconscious glance at my watch told me it was only 5:50. Oh no! I found myself seized with the desire to check the mail. No, no, there was no point! I had checked it this morning, it's only been one business day, it couldn't possibly be in yet. But what if it was?! What if it had been put on the first plane out and had been sitting in the mail room all day and I could have had my invite for all of that time?! Taking deep breathes, fighting for control, I entered my building and faced the elevator. Up would take me to my flat, but down...down would take me to the office. I hesitated. I admit it: I was weak. I was going to push up, really I was, my intentions were pure. But my traitor of a finger pressed the down button. That was it. I was doomed.

It's actually not excitement or anticipation or anything like that which has made me check my mail so regularly now. It's pure, unadulterated curiosity. I am So Freaking Curious about my invite! Where am I going? When am I leaving? What will I be doing? Of course I am excited, but it is 100% dwarfed by sheer curiosity. It's like a Christmas present under the tree when you're a kid. You weigh it in your hands, shake it, listening as hard as you can as if you could guess what's inside by the sound it makes. The curiosity burns inside of you, you just want to know what's hidden under that pretty paper and shiny ribbon. But you have to wait until Christmas morning, when all of the curiosity, all of the waiting, pays off in the sweetness of unwrapping the present and feeling that rush that comes from finally knowing. It doesn't even really matter what the present actually is. The feeling of curiosity being satisfied is such a pleasure in and of itself. Or at least it always has been for me.

So here I am, knowing full well I'm going to be checking the mail twice a day for the foreseeable future no matter how much I try not to, with curiosity welling up inside of me more and more with each passing day.

I wonder how long it takes a package to cross The Pond?

It's Official

Oh, wow.

It's official. They have sent me an invite.

I am going to be joining the Peace Corps. After over a year, after filling forms and writing essays and seeing doctors and being tested and stressing and worrying, there's nothing else. The last hurdle was cleared, there's nothing more. I am invited to join the Peace Corps.

She gave me no hints about where I'll be going. All I know is that I'm leaving in September and the rest of the information is in the mail.

It's done. I'm going.

Oh...wow.

One Step Closer...

Oh, wow, that was a lot faster than I thought! I really wasn't expecting any contact from the Placement office for at least a month, and then today I received an e-mail saying that the final assessment of my application has been completed! She said I 'possess a great skill set and demonstrate strong motivation to serve' (hell yeah I do!).

But alas, there was just one more thing between me and that beautiful blue envelope.

Last year, a lot of changes occurred in my life. Big Changes. Apparently, there is a policy in the Peace Corps I didn't know about called the Major Life Change policy (MLC) where they want a full year to have passed between a major life event and the beginning of service. One of my Big Changes happened just over a year ago now and my Placement officer asked me to write a statement about how this event won't effect my service.

Seriously, this is probably the easiest thing I think I've had to do in this whole application process. Because yes, last year was hard. A lot of things in my life changed and it hurt and it was painful. But I have grown as a person because of it. I love where I am now and what I'm doing, and I have never been happier because, honestly, how can you not be happy while living your dreams? The hardships in life are the things that teach us, and I would like to believe that because of all the things that have happened, I am stronger for it. I will be able to be a better volunteer because of all the lessons I have learned about myself and my abilities.

I just sent in my statement, and now my application is in the actual placement stage. I'm still being considered for a September departure to Africa or Central Asia, possibly Eastern Europe. Basically if it's leaving in September, it's fair game, which means the Staging Dates listed on PCwiki don't really help me much in trying to guess where I'm going. Which I think is really cool because I always love a good surprise! Anyways, I was told all of the details about when, where, and what I would be doing would be included in that big, beautiful envelope they are going to send me.

This is really happening. This is actually, really, finally happening. I'm excited and happy and thrilled beyond belief. How can you not be happy as your dream comes true?

The Joys of Limbo

I've had some time to think about this whole Nomination Confusion thing and to get used to the idea that I no longer have a program I am nominated for. A part of me is still generally very confused about how this all happened (I never would have agreed to leave before my Masters program was done, how did I get nominated for a time I couldn't leave?) and another part of me is still worried about the consequences of this Confusion (do they still want me? will I still get an invite? what if they think I'm not dedicated or responsible enough because of this happening?), but as the days go by, these parts grow smaller and smaller. And more and more of me becomes excited.

When I thought I was leaving in September to Eastern Europe / Central Asia, no matter how much I tried, I couldn't keep off of PCwiki and looking at the staging dates and trying to figure out where I was going to go. I had narrowed it down to two or three places, and I had read blogs about them and wondering what life would be like in those places. I was constantly wondering about where I would be going and secretly hoping for one of those two or three places. I know you shouldn't get your heart set on any specific place because it's probably going to change, but I just couldn't help it.

Now, pretty much any place is a possibility. Any program leaving in September or October (or beyond) anywhere in the world is fair game. I gave a quick look at the list of places with Staging in those months, and it's just incredible the wide range of places that are possible: Jordan, Tonga, Ukraine, Mozambique, so on and so forth, on and on. And pretty much every place I read about, that I do a little research into, I get excited about. Each place has their own challenges, their own personality, and sounds simply amazing.

It's funny, now that there are so many more possibilities of where I can go, I am no longer plagued with wondering where I'm going like before. I am no longer hoping for a specific place. That aspect of my restlessness is completely gone. After my quick search through PCwiki, I no longer have the desire of trying to figure out where I might be going. There are just too many places, too many possibilities to even begin to wonder which of them I could be heading to. The entire world is a possibility. It's incredibly liberating and very exhilarating.

As my wonderful dad said: 'It will work out and you will be assigned someplace that you will find interesting and challenging; a place where you can help the people the most.' I am absolutely thrilled to see where that place turns out to be.

So You Wanna Join the Peace Corps?

I got a kick out of this site:

So You Wanna Join the Peace Corps?

Two of my favourite lines -

About packing light:

'If you want to kill two birds with one stone (something that you might actually get to do on some assignments), strap on your luggage and run around your neighborhood. That way you can also begin to get used to people staring at you strangely. It's going to happen.'

About thinking 'Why am I here?' after being in-country for a while:

'In such dire times, also remember that you're pretty much a guest of the government just visiting. Most of the people live there year-round. So stop your bitching.'

Too funny!

That Explains It...

Got an e-mail back from Placement Office. And my oh my, how the ballgame has changed.

At my interview I had been told I was being nominated for a September departure. I am almost certain I had received a letter to this effect. Turns out I was nominated for a program that was leaving mid-July to mid-August.

Ahh...that's why they were so confused about me wanting to leave after September 1st...

I'm not sure how this happened. My master's program doesn't end until August 20th, so I wouldn't be able to leave before then, which I'm sure I had told my recruiter. My saving grace was that on my original application I had put my date of being available to depart as August 15th, which would mean a mid-July to mid-August departure wouldn't have been possible anyways. Someone, somwhere, mixed something up. I'm not sure how, but I guess it happens. Gotta roll with those punches.

I'm still being considered (thank God), but my region is more likely than not going to change since I'm now, basically, not attached to a program since I'm no longer a part of the one I was nominated for. She said she's considering me for departure in September to either Africa or Central Asia, or in October to the Pacific Islands or the Middle East. Basically I can be sent anywhere at any time after September 1st. God, I hope this confusion doesn't penalize me in any way...

There are a lot of emotions going through me right now, but mostly I just feel numb as questions run through my head. How did this happen? Where am I going? When am I going? What if they try to send me to Africa, the only place I said I wouldn't go at the request of my parents? What would I do?

She said she would be done reviewing my application by early August at the latest. So I have at worst two full months to wait and see what happens. Which is fine, I've been waiting so long already, what's a few more months? It'll all work out, I know it will. I really believe this is what I'm meant to do, and I'm sure it'll all work out and I'll go where I'm meant to be.

I guess I'm back to playing the waiting game, only this time it's much more interesting because when I receive my invitation, when I leave and where I go really will be a surprise. No more possible speculation, the entire world is a possibility. Which, you gotta admit, is kind of cool. Fingers crossed!

Stress Relief

I've been having trouble focusing on my reading today because of this latest little development with the Placement Office. I know it isn't much of an issue, it'll work out, but I really want to know what's happening, patiently waiting for an e-mail that hasn't come yet. So I decided to relieve some stress in one of my favourite ways. I baked a cake.

My classmates are well aware by now of how much I enjoy cooking and baking. They even started a little fund to help 'support my habit' (as I like to teasingly say). I find cooking and baking to be an excellent way to take my mind off of things, measuring out ingredients, focusing on mixing things together, having that sense of accomplishment when it comes out of the oven. I love it! And I love sharing my creations with people, love seeing the looks on their faces as they eat, being able to give somebody something they hopefully enjoy. This is why my classmates love me baking - I usually feed it to them!

Now that my cake is done, I still haven't received an e-mail back from the Placement Office. But my mind is clear, I feel much calmer, and hopefully I can now go back to focusing on my reading. Plus, I now have chocolate cake to munch on, and what could be better than that!

Availability Confusion

It's never that easy, huh? Thought I was in the home stretch, but then I wake up to another e-mail from the Placement Office, and now I'm completely on edge. It said something along the lines of that if I want to change my availability date, I have to write a statement explaining why. Except I have expressed no interest in changing my availability date: I was nominated to leave in September and I stated I am available to depart any time after September 1st.

So I wrote them back explaining my confusion, and now I'm just sitting here wondering what this is all about. I mean, I haven't been asked to leave earlier than September, so being available starting on September 1st shouldn't be a problem. And if they want me later than September...well, they wouldn't have sent an e-mail like that, would they? They would have just asked me if I would be willing to leave later, right?

All I can figure is that the confusion arises from the fact that I technically don't graduate with my Masters until December. I will be completely done with my studies in August, I won't even be a student any more after that point, there is just a small time delay between finishing the course and actual graduation so that my thesis can be evaluated. A quirk in the United Kingdom education system I explained in both my interview and in my e-mail.

I don't know. I'm sure it'll work out. Until then I just need to relax, take a deep breath, and see what happens.

Contact!

I have been checking my e-mail account every couple of hours (or more...) every day for the last 24 days, increasingly wondering if it's possible to blow up Gmail from checking it too much. So today, before heading out to a movie, I automatically opened an extra tab for Gmail, reading an article as it loaded, not expecting anything to be there. The tab loaded, and there is was. 'Gmail - Inbox (1)'. My heart skipped. I clicked on the tab. And there it was. An e-mail from Placement Office.

I must admit - I squealed in excitement.

Though I almost had a bit of a panic when I started reading it. The first thing the e-mail asked for was my MA transcript. I had explained in my interview that even though I will be done with my studies in August and will technically no longer be a student after that point, I won't graduate with my MA until December. When I read they wanted a transcript, I was like, 'Aw...crap.' But not to worry! They said not having it won't impede the process, they'll just need it when I have it. So I plan on mentioning in the e-mail I send back with my updated resume, skill addendum, and departure availability how I won't have an official transcript until December, just so they know.

And the skill addendum! It wants my training experience, and even though I have had plenty of hours of training (required by the school I had taught at), I don't have ANY of that information with me. I searched every last file on my computer hoping I had saved something with that type of information in it, but alas, all of my training certificates are safely tucked away in the bottom of a box in a storage unit in Texas. Does me no good there, but what can you do? So I guess I'll just have to leave those spaces blank, which sucks because I DO have training, I just don't remember what it was called, who taught it, how to contact them, et cetera. Oh, well, it'll work out.

Gosh, I'm so excited I could just burst! I'm going to take the rest of the weekend to polish everything and will send it in on Sunday. Can you believe I didn't have to wait multiple more weeks/months for contact? Oh, I'm so happy! On to the home stretch!

Still waiting...

It's been 21 days since I was medically cleared (but who's counting?). Placement Office said my file would probably be under review within 4 - 6 weeks, so I'm about halfway through that period. I know, I know, it'll probably be more along the lines of multiple months, not weeks, before I hear from them, but that doesn't stop a girl from hoping. And this girl sure is hoping. Patience, got to have patience. Been waiting for over a year, what's a few more weeks and/or months for such an incredible adventure?

In the meantime, I've been reading blogs and looking at various programs leaving when and where I've been nominated (thanks to PCwiki - behind Facebook, this is my ultimate procrastination tool), and I have a couple of sneaking suspicions on where I might be heading. I've been reading the blogs by the PCV serving in those places, learning about them, wondering about them. Though I'm not going to set my heart on any place because I know how the Peace Corps likes to keep people on their toes!

But actually, I've recently heard about another program that I would really like to do. And as in 'really like to do' I mean, as soon as I heard about it, I sent an e-mail to my best friend basically squealing in barely contained excitement. It's not in the region I'm nominated for, and it leaves a little later than I'm nominated for, but that's all right in my book since it would be such an amazing opportunity. I'm not going to go into more detail, just in case I don't (or do!) get the program, but it would totally rock my socks off to be sent there. Though it would rock my socks off to be sent anywhere!

Leaving later actually does strike my fancy, though. My first reaction: so I can travel more before heading back to the States! My second reaction: so I can actually spend time with my family and friends! As it currently stands, if I leave in September I'll have just a few weeks between returning from England to going off wherever. I would be fine leaving in September, that's when I told the Peace Corps I would be ready to leave after all, but it would definitely be a whirlwind adventure filled with a lot of emotion. I saw Super Dad and the Sister over Spring Break when we met up in Greece, but the last time I saw everyone else was in December, if not later. So it would be nice to leave a little bit later and have the chance to spend some real time with everyone. And to spend some real time in my favourite restaurants before leaving them again (oh, what I would do for a steak and a big glass of sweet iced tea...or some good tex-mex...).

Hopefully I'll know what's happening within the next few weeks. So that when my friends ask, 'How's the Peace Corps thing coming?' I can say something besides, 'Still waiting...'

Why Are You Doing This?

The most asked question between my group of friends here in England is: 'What are you going to do after you're done with the Masters?' It started months ago and has become increasingly frequent as we face the end of class and the beginning of summer where all we have to do is write a small thesis before heading back to our respective homes. Everybody in my group is well aware of what I'm trying to do by now, I've talked their ears off about it for months, especially as I worked through the frustrating, and sometimes frightening, medical process. They have been incredibly supportive and seem genuinely excited for me, and I must say I am so blessed to have spent the past year with such an amazing group.

But I remember the first time I was asked that question many moons ago. It was late in the evening and it was just me and one of my classmates sipping tea, as one is wont to do in England. We had been talking about our program and how we want to do well in it especially because she wants to go into a PhD program back in her home country. 'Well,' she asked, 'what do you want to do when you get back?' I told her I'm trying to join the Peace Corps, explaining to her what it was. 'That sounds really cool! How much will you get paid?' Uhh...not much. It's volunteer, though I will get a small payment when I complete my service. 'Then why are you doing it?'

Pushing aside the urge to rant about how money Is Not Everything, it is a valid question that every applicant and volunteer needs to continuously ask themselves. Why are you doing this? I'm sure I was asked this question in my interview, but as I face the very real possibility of a possible invite, I go back to this question and think about it. Why am I doing this?

My immediate response is that I want to help people. I want to make a difference in this world, change it and make it a little better, touch a life even if it is just in the smallest of ways. I've always wanted to help people, and I want to improve other's lives. But I try to blink these stars out of my eyes, try not to be naive (but maybe that makes me cynical?), be completely honest with myself, and recognise that I may not make much of a difference. Studies show that less than 50% of RPCV feel they made significant lasting impressions in their communities. I read about PCV coming to their end of service who feel disheartened and disillusioned as their projects fail or as they realise that things haven't changed much since they've started service. So if that's the only reason you do it, to make a change, how do you get over that? If that's the only reason you do it, how do you get over the fact that it may all be in vain? You could have just stayed in the States. As I have been reminded multiple times, I made a small difference in my students back home and touched their lives. Why devote 27 months of your life abroad to something that you are just as likely, if not more so, to succeed in if you stay State-side?

For me, helping people is not the only reason I'm doing this, which may be selfish, but there you go. Even if I don't make any lasting impression, there are other reasons why I'm doing this that, no matter what happens, will be satisfied. I also want to do it because I want to travel and live in another country. I want to truly experience another culture in the way that only comes from actually living in it, learning the language and becoming a member of a community. I want to learn about people. I want to be challenged, challenged in every way, challenged so much I can't see straight. I want everything I know to be questioned and every belief I have scrutinised. I want to experience that awe I get everywhere I go when I look at people and realise how, no matter how different we seem to be at first, at heart we are all the same - all human, all people. I want to test the Universal Truths I've developed over the years that I think are in all people no matter where they're from.

I really think it's these reasons that will help me the most when push comes to shove, that will help me get to the end of my service with a smile on my lips and joy in my heart. Even if I end up teaching English and the students are staring at me without an ounce of caring in their eyes, no one recognising how much work I put into what I do, it'll be okay. It'll actually make me laugh because (I wish I could tell those volunteers who are bemoaning these very problems in their various countries) it's the exact same way in the States, the long hours without any recognition and students who would rather watch grass grow than listen to you explain what pluperfect and future perfect tenses are. My desires, the reasons why I'm doing this will still be satisfied, no matter what happens. Because even if I change nothing and touch not a single life, I know wherever I go they will change and touch me. And that's all I really want, all I really ask for.

But to be honest, none of these reasons fully and completely express why I'm doing this. It's all of these things and more. It's a feeling in my soul, something that I can't quite put into words. I know it sounds cheesy, but it's like a calling. I feel like this is what I'm supposed to do. And I can't freakin' wait.

Link to 'The Secret to Being a Happy and Integrated Peace Corps Volunteer'

Last week I was procrastinating studing for my Latin exam (which went very well), and now I'm procrastinating studing for my Old English exam. In my procrastination, I found this blog post from a gentleman in Gambia who's about to begin his third year of service as a PCV. It's his advice about how to be a Happy and Integrated PCV, and I just thought it was really well written and wished to share.

Enjoy!

Home & Homesickness

In all my years of travel, I've never really ever been homesick. Not when I was studying abroad in Germany, working in China, living here in England, or on holiday everywhere else I've been. I think the closest I've ever gotten to being homesick was in Germany, but it was easily cured by going to T.G.I.Fridays in Berlin and eating the biggest burger this side of the Atlantic in air conditioning with ice in my Coke.

I have spent multiple nights with friends is each country I've lived in giving them hugs when they've become homesick, missing their families and just wanting to go back to their home countries. I've never really felt that way myself. I mean, of course I miss my family and friends back in the States, my walls are literally covered with pictures of them, but I love where I am, and for me it has always been enough just to chat with them online or send an e-mail to them every now and then. I've wondered why it always seemed easier for me, wondering if it's because I don't Skype with them on a daily basis like so many other and therefore don't have that constant reminder, or if it's because I just adapt really well, but I really don't know. So last night it surprised me that, after a fun but really hard day, I was walking through the dark city streets of Leeds when it hit me. I wanted to be home. Right now. I wanted to go home. I wanted to be where things were familiar and known. Where I could forget about my problems and be comforted.

I trudged my way to my building as the waves of emotion washed over me, trying not to cry. The mantra of 'I want to be home, I want to be home' kept replaying in my head. I got to my flat, turned the key, and suddenly the mantra stopped, and all of my pain fell away. I paused in surprise, looking around my little room. What had happened? I stood there in my doorway for a long moment, keys in hand, when I realised something.

I was home. I had assumed when those feelings had come over me that I was wanting to return to America, when in reality I just wanted to go home after a hard day. At some point, sometime during this year, this little flat has become my home. I had realised this months ago, how I was beginning to consider Leeds my home, but I had yet to be faced with such a hard day here in England that made me see how much of a home it really has become. I curled up into bed and felt the comfort of home all around me, all of my problems melting away in its warmth.

I know the Peace Corps will be completely different from everything else I've done, and I know, some day, probably a lot of days, will be hard. I'm going to feel the exact same way there as I did last night, wanting to go home to get away from all the hardships of a bad day. Maybe at the beginning I'll long for America or maybe I'll even long for my little flat here in England which has become my home. But I know that at some point, sometime during the years, whatever country I'm in will become home. My flat there will be my home, the place where comfort is, where things are familiar and known, where problems melt away.

I guess I still haven't ever really felt homesickness, not as most people define it. But this experience has made me wonder if I even have a home, a physical place with those emotional attachments, in America to miss anymore. Yes, there's the place Super Dad lives, but it's not the place I grew up in since he's moved recently, and I have no attachment to my hometown. I guess, for me at least, home is where I am. I'm not sure why this is, why I don't long for America like so many of my friends, but I guess it's all I need.

Impending Doom

I really try not to worry about things, and usually I do a pretty good job, especially if said things are completely out of my hands. But there is one thing I'm really worried about when it comes to this whole waiting-for-the-invitation thing. Actually, it's more like a lot of things I'm worried about that all have the same cause. The worst part is: I'm about 98% sure my worries are valid and there is Absolutely Nothing I can do about it. I'm just anxiously awaiting the Impending Doom.

So what is the basis of all of my worries? What is causing the Impending Doom to loom in the distance, casting a dark shadow of worries over my already restless and anxious mind? One word: England. And the fact that I am here until August 27th. And I was nominated to leave in September.

I am worrying hardcore that me being in another country is not just going to make my invite unnecessarily difficult, but may actually seriously hinder the process. Let me break it down for you, and maybe try to find some solutions along the way:

1. The Placement Office usually calls applicants before they are placed for last minute discussions and application run through. Well, considering I don't have an international phone, I listed Super Dad's phone number on my toolkit. So they're going to call him, he's going to have to let me know, and I'll have to find a way to call them back from over here. SOLUTION: I have a phone card that I could use to call them back with, though the prospect of trying to work through this over a payphone is less than appealing. Maybe my flatmate will let me use her Internet phone...
2. The actual, and hopeful, mailing of the invite, which will be sent to Super Dad's address because it's the one I listed on my toolkit. So he's going to have to send it my way fast enough so I receive it within the 10 day acceptance window. SOLUTION: Two words: Express Mail. Though I wonder if I could change my toolkit to reflect my UK address, and maybe they could send it straight to me. Hmm...now there's a thought... Oh, hey, that actually worked! Spiffy! See, it's good to lay out your worries one by one instead of freaking about them en masse, sometimes you're able to find a solution! Though I wonder why they accept international addresses but not phone numbers...
3. Accepting the invitation. Need to be able to call them for that. SOLUTION: See worry #1.
4. And, finally, the biggest fear: the passport. The reason the Peace Corps gives at least six weeks notice before departure is because of visa and passport processing. Okay, easy enough. Except I'm supposed to leave in September. And I'm not back in the States until late August. Anyone else see the problem with this? If I'm supposed to send in my passport for my visa, how am I supposed to get back into the country? SOLUTION: Honestly, I'm not entirely sure how this one will play out. Maybe they'll allow me to mail it in a little later. Maybe I'll be able to get back into the country with just a copy of my passport. Maybe I'll be invited soon enough where I can send it to them and they can send it back to me before I have to try to re-enter the country. No clue. Don't even want to begin to think about how I want to do some European traveling before heading back to the States and how that would work if my passport had to be sent in.

Wow, I actually feel a lot better breaking it all down like this. Still worried, especially about that passport thing, but better. But you know, despite my worries, and despite it feels like a runaway train is barreling towards me at 100 mph, I hope the Impending Doom comes. I hope it all comes, every hassle, every headache, every worry. Because along with the Impending Doom comes a beautiful big blue envelope with the words 'You are invited to serve' on it...

The Application Process Part 3: Medical cont.

After sending in my medical packet, the Peace Corps informed me that, due to a slight blip on my lab results, I needed to go to an endocrinologist (henceforth called an 'endo') to have my thyroid checked out. And let me tell you, getting the thyroid thing taken care of was one of the greatest trials of my patience and perseverance. It felt like everything that could go wrong, did. Including an island exploding. But I'm getting ahead of myself.

I received the letter that I needed to see an endo in early February 2010 (on my birthday actually - talk about a bit of a downer). Being in England, without a clue on how to find a doctor or how I was supposed to pay for it (will it be covered by NHS? will I have to pay out of pocket? the exchange rate is at WHAT?!), I did what any other person born and raised with technology would do: I turned to the Internet! And God bless the Internet.

I was able to find an endo and called his office, being told I needed a referral from a GP. No problem, Super Dad back home went to my doctor's office and they wrote me out one. Referral in hand, I set up an appointment with the endo. I had to run to it because the only appointment they had open for the month was right between two of my classes (Old English and Study of Heroic Culture - I love what I do!), but thankfully the hospital he works at is within walking distance.

The appointment went well.  He reviewed my lab results, checked my reflexes, and asked me some pretty random sounding questions that he assured me were pertinent. At the end of it, we sat across his desk and he told me I seemed like a perfectly healthy young woman. There was nothing to indicate that anything was wrong, and to be honest, the little over activity of my thyroid seen on my lab report was so minimal that it was absolutely nothing to worry about. However (my growing happiness that this would be easier than I thought fell as he continued), he wanted to get some more tests done anyways, just to make sure nothing was up. Once he had my results, he would write me a letter for the Peace Corps if everything looked good so I wouldn't have to return, or we would schedule another appointment if things looked off. I felt annoyance prick at me. If the over activity was truly that minimal and that meaningless, why couldn't he just write me a letter then and let me move on with my life? But he was insistent, and I left his office with a blood request.

Now, this is when I learned some very interesting things about the English health system. They have public health doctors, covered by NHS, and private doctors, which have to be covered by personal insurance or out of pocket. Well, as far as I could tell from my research on the Internet, it's difficult to see an endo under NHS, if it's possible at all. So my endo had been a private doctor. Let's just say when I, a very poor grad student, got his bill, I staggered. And then the nurse came and told me that to have the blood work done at the hospital would cost £300. About $500. Ouch.

Then she told me, if I went to a GP here in England, they could get my blood work done and it would be covered by NHS. It was at this point that I began to wonder: would NHS have covered the visit to the endo if I had been referred by a GP here in England? I immediately decided it wasn't worth wondering, it was over and done with now, and I banished the question.

It took weeks for me to get signed up for NHS, get a GP, have an initial meeting with the GP, and have blood taken. It was amazingly frustrating, including a lot of phone calls, walking to the clinic, and long waits for incredibly short visits. The initial meeting with the GP had to have been my favourite: I wasn't able to get in to see the GP for a couple of weeks, and I was already frustrated because all I needed was blood work done, I didn't need to actually see the GP, can I just make an appointment to get blood drawn? No? Well then can I go ahead and make an appointment to have blood drawn for after the meeting with the GP so I can get it taken care of quickly? No? WHY NOT?! But I waited, went in to the clinic, waited longer, and finally saw the doctor. It literally took her five minutes to look at my lab reports, look at the blood request, and send me out with the clinic's request. What in the world was the point of that? Ah, bureaucracy, you suck. My frustration was complete when they told me I would have to wait a couple of weeks for an appointment to have blood drawn. Argh!

Finally, blood was drawn and sent off to the lab with results to return in a couple of weeks, Spring Break had started at my school, and my sister had come over from the States to go to Greece with me. We spent three incredible weeks wandering that beautiful country, and it was so nice knowing that when I got back, a letter from my endo should be waiting for me and this could all be over. Imagine my surprise and annoyance when there was nothing in my mailbox when I got back.

I called my GP to ask if the results had been sent to my endo and called my endo to see what the hold up was. Both doctors were out of the country and wouldn't be returning for a week.  Right. Of course. I went ahead and set up an appointment to see my GP to talk to her directly about my results, waited a week, and went in. She told me there had been some significant delays in my tests being processed, but the results had just come in, and was told that everything came back negative except one little blip of activity, but she couldn't tell me what it meant. She was actually really nice, saying they had sent the results to my endo, but if things didn't move fast enough, she was willing to write a letter for me since she knew the time restraints I was under.

I called my endo when I got back home, thinking he should be back in the country and could write me that letter, since the results had come in fine. Well, turns out, he wasn't back yet. And, actually, he couldn't get back. You see, this volcano up in Iceland had exploded, covering England in an ash cloud and grounding all flights. He couldn't get back. Because of an island exploding. Seriously? SERIOUSLY?!  ARGH!

So I waited. And waited. I was tempted to call again every day, but I waited, giving him a couple of weeks. I'm sure my friends here were sick of hearing me complain about it, I just couldn't believe that I had seen the doctors in February and here we were in early May with nothing to show for it, especially since I had been told the blood results would be given to me in mid March. Then one day, I randomly checked my mail, and there is was: the letter. The beautiful letter saying that I was perfectly, 100% healthy. My thyroid is slightly under active (despite the initial test saying it might be overactive - yeah, I don't get it either, something about how I probably had a bit of an infection at the time of the initial test which made it appear overactive when it's actually under active), and though it is something I should keep my eye on as I get older, there is nothing to stop me from being able to go off into the Peace Corps.

More than once during this process, when yet another thing went wrong or another hurdle had to be jumped, some of which I didn't recount here, I wanted to say forget it. Throw my hands up in the air in exacerbation and say 'This just isn't worth it, it is way too much of a hassle.' But then I remembered why I started this journey in the first place, why I want to do this so badly. And with that in mind, I kept on going, kept on calling the doctors, kept making appointments, and faced the challenges. And I conquered them.

The day Super Dad faxed in that beautiful letter from my endocrinologist to the Peace Corps medical office was the day my medical was cleared. Again, I felt special and wanted because things had moved so quickly on their end.

So that's where I'm at now in this application process. Now all there is left to do is wait. And hope.

The Application Process Part 2: Medical

Medical: the bane of almost every Peace Corps applicant's life. It's complicated, frustrating, and drawn out. And according to the infamous Out of 100, it's where most applicants trip. I honestly can't blame them.

My medical packet arrived in September 2009, but by that time I had already moved to England to begin my year long Masters degree in Medieval Studies. I am covered by the national insurance over here (called NHS), but I decided that I didn't want to try to find and go to doctors and dentists over here. It would be way too much of a hassle, I didn't know how much NHS would cover (especially when it came to the shots), the pound to dollar conversion was less than inspiring if I had to pay out of pocket, and I had plenty of time. So I set my medical aside for when I returned to the States for Christmas break, focusing on school and adjusting to life in a new country.

Oh, did I mention I was only going to be in the States for two weeks over Christmas break?

Those were the most medically intense two weeks of my life. The day after I walked off the plane I had my first appointment, jet lagged and exhausted. Basically anytime I wasn't baking, decorating the tree, or shopping for presents was spent in various waiting rooms. The doctor poked and prodded me, tested me for everything under the sun, took out five vials of blood and replaced it with four types of vaccines which left my arm sore for a week. The dentist jabbed at every single tooth, and I actually had to go to the dentist three separate times to have fillings done. Considering I hadn't been to the dentist in at least five years before this...well, let's just say I was pleasantly pleased I didn't need more work done.

Fun side story: Novocaine doesn't really work on me. I've known this for years and always tell my dentist because one shot of the stuff just isn't going to cut it. Turns out, neither does three. Or four. After waiting an hour for the drugs to kick in and poking my jaw asking if I could feel it and me giving him the affirmative, he became really frustrated and busted out The Big Guns, shooting some sort of extra strength numbing stuff straight into the nerve in my jaw, which still wore off much faster than it usually does for other people. So you would think, after doing this on one side of my mouth, they would just start with The Big Guns when I returned for the other half of my fillings. Nope. After my last appointment I tried to count how many times I was pricked by needles between the doctor and the dentist, and I figure that I had at least 17 separate shots. My jaw was still sore when I went back to England.

The eye doctor was actually the easiest. Just handed him the prescription I had gotten this past summer and he filled it out and that was that. Took 5 minutes, tops. So I had everything, all the lab results came in before I had to head back to England, and everything was normal, except that some of my thyroid activity was a little high, but even though my doctor noted I might want to see an endocrinologist someday, it wasn't necessary to do so. But when I was looking through the papers, I realised the doctor hadn't filled out my vaccinations and forgot to sign one of the pages. I went back to the office, vaccine record in hand, and told the nurse what was missing. Turns out, the doctor was out of town and wouldn't be returning until the following week when she would be glad to sign it. Too bad I was leaving for England the following day.

How was I supposed to get the papers signed? I knew I had to have that part filled in, but I was leaving the next day, what was I going to do? In swoops Super Dad! He very kindly offered to hold on to the papers and take them in when the doctor had returned and mail everything once it was done. I breathed a sigh of relief, though I must admit I was reluctant to hand the papers over to anyone. Heck, I was reluctant to leave the papers with my doctor's nurse as things were filled in and checked over. Paranoia is a common side effect found in Peace Corps applicants during the medical evaluation, worrying about every tiny thing not being perfectly filled in, and petrified something will go missing, extending the torture that is medical even further. Of course I had nothing to worry about, the week after returning to England I received the e-mail from my dad saying everything was sent off and all good. The hurdle had been cleared. I was so happy that there had only been one hiccup, and even that had easily been taken care of. So what if all of those visits crammed into a single week had been hard, everything was done and it should be smooth sailing from there to Invite.

Time passed. I didn't even really notice it flying by as I wrote essays, studied for finals, took said finals, hung out with friends, and began the new term. I wasn't expecting to hear from the Peace Corps because my leaving date was for September, 9 whole months away, so I just didn't worry about it. Why would they be looking at my stuff this far in advance? Then I get an e-mail in February 2010 from my dad: I had a letter from the Peace Corps and he had sent it to me. Holy crap, really? My stuff was under review already? Why in the world would they be reviewing my stuff already? Who knows and who cares, I thought, dancing on air with how utterly special I felt. Very excitedly, I waited for the letter to cross The Pond, and when I checked my mail and found the parcel, I ripped into it, pulling the letter out.

And in bold were those dreaded words: 'During the review of your medical kit, we find the submitted information to be incomplete.' Oh, no. They needed a copy of a laboratory report and a current evaluation from an endocrinologist due to that tiny blip of abnormal thyroid activity my doctor said wasn't necessary to worry about. Oh, God, please no. The lab report was easy, a call to my doctor and it was sent in the next day. But how was I supposed to do the rest from across The Pond, all the way in England? I had no endocrinologist, I didn't even have a general practitioner yet, and on top of that I didn't have a clue how the medical procedures or insurance works over here!  What in the world was I going to do? I couldn't wait until I got back to the States like I had when I first received the medical kit because I'm not returning again until August; time was running out. I stared at that letter for a long, long time.

Then I turned to my computer, opened up Internet Explorer, and typed in a search query: endocrinologists in Leeds. And so it continued.

The Application Process Part 1: Applying - Nomination

I started this journey over a year ago when I submitted my application on May 1st, 2009, the first day recommended to apply for a September 2010 departure. I must admit I started the application at least a month earlier, working on it in the mornings before the students would come barrelling into my classroom. The Peace Corps websites were the only personal sites I had favorited on my work laptop. Though I guess one could argue the journey actually started in the summer of 2008, when I first heard about the Peace Corps and began to really consider it.

I remember sitting with Stephanie that summer having tea at Starbucks and her mentioning how she wanted to volunteer and work with turtles in South America and maybe join the PC someday. The Peace Corps, I thought, Wow, what an adventure that would be. I went home the evening and for the first time went to their website, reading through the material. Something about it really called to me, drew me to it, but really? The Peace Corps? It sounded interesting, something right up my alley, but I couldn't even fathom actually doing it. It was like a golden dream, something desired but unreal, existing on the fringes of my mind out of the realm of possibilities.

So life continued. I was supposed to leave for England that fall but I decided to postpone my entry, opting instead to work for the year to earn the money for school. I took a job teaching English literature to 7th and 8th grade students with no education experience whatsoever in my background, and am proud to say that from day one, even though I felt in over my head, I was able to swim and not sink. But the thought of the Peace Corps kept nipping at me, bugging at me. In September I began to look at more websites with an almost obsessive regularity, reading about it, learning all I could about it. The dream slowly solidified, lost its golden haze, became a real possibility, something that could actually happen, something I could actually do. The more I read, the more I realised: this is what I wanted to do. Exactly what I'm looking for in the PC, why I want to join, will be saved for another post, but I realised that here was a program that would allow me to do everything I wanted. November 2008 is when I decided that I was going to do it, and I began to eagerly await the day I could start the application process.

Things moved quickly once my application was submitted. All of my recommendations were in within a month, and I was contacted by the Dallas headquarters by the end of June to discuss when I could have an interview since they knew I was under time restraints. My recruiter knew I was leaving for England that September for school and that I would be out of town a few weeks in August, but she needed some papers that I was still waiting for. Don't worry, she said, I could just bring the papers to our meeting, I just needed to let her know when I had them. I received the forms in July and sent her an e-mail telling her so, but then weeks went by without any meeting being set up. I began to become very concerned as my leaving date loomed in front of me, until I finally broke and gave her a call, asking her what the hold up was. I must admit I was really amused when she told me she was still waiting for those papers. When I reminded her she said I could just bring them to the meeting, she said, 'Oh. Well then. August 14th good for you?' I said it was.

Oh my, what a weekend that was! I took the opportunity of going to Dallas to meet up with a lot of friends (who, by some twist of fate, were all in Dallas that weekend as well) as part of a goodbye tour before leaving for England. But first things first: the interview. In downtown Dallas. Terrifying downtown Dallas. You're just puttering along the highway, take the exit for downtown, and then spend the next fifteen minutes going 'AHHH! AHHH! AHHH! Oh, there's the building I need. AHHH! AHHH! AHHH!' I would have made a sailor blush if they had been in the car with me, trying to maneuver through the poorly marked narrow one way streets, looking for someplace to park in that jungle while not running over people as they randomly cross the street. I'm glad I got there early, it took a few minutes for the screaming in my head to calm down.

Once the screaming stopped, I nervously went into the imposing federal building, which looks exactly like scary federal buildings do in the movies with guards and metal detectors and everything, and made my way to the Peace Corps offices. The interview went really smoothly, I watched some videos, we chatted about this that and the other, and I handed her the papers she needed. Then she asked me the two Big Questions:

1) Where do you want to serve?

2) What would you like to do in your service?

Where? Anywhere but Africa. She paused at that answer, giving me a strange look. 'Why not Africa?' Way back at the beginning of all of this, when I first told my parents I was going to join the PC, they supported me whole heartily but had one request: don't go to Africa. 'You do know that Africa is the safest place we go to.' It doesn't matter. I'm incredibly lucky and blessed with parents who have supported me in all of my life choices, and I've learned through the years that their advice and concerns have sound reasoning behind them, so I might as well take them into consideration. I honestly don't mind where I serve, and if not going to Africa makes my parents feel more comfortable, it's something I'm willing to do for them. She just smiled and shrugged, making a note in my file that I'm willing to serve anywhere except Africa, preferring Eastern Europe and Asia. My guess is she doesn't get that response very often. Seems to me most people join the Peace Corps because they want to go to Africa. I don't mind being the odd duck.

What would I like to do? Anything. But I must be honest, even though I have an education background now, what with teaching for the past year, I would really like to learn something new and not teach. She gave me another weird look. 'Considering your background, education is really the only thing you're qualified for. However, since you have teaching experience, you're qualified to be a teacher trainer. You probably wouldn't be placed as an actual teacher because you actually have some experience.' Teacher trainer? What's that? She explained the position to me and I got really excited. Sure, I would still be in the education field, but I would still be doing something new, something I hadn't done before. Now that time has passed, I realise that I would still be incredibly happy teaching English somewhere. It would still be new and different, which is exactly what I want. Heck, I would be happy with anything. Whatever. I'm pretty easy.

So she searched the database and found a program she thought I would fit and I was nominated before leaving her office for a teacher trainer position in Eastern Europe/Asia to depart September 2010. I was walking on air as I left the imposing building, sending a text to my parents as soon as I was in my car, excitedly telling them I was nominated. They sent their congratulations and I spent the rest of the weekend travelling around Texas saying goodbye to friends, spending a couple of days in Dallas with Alli, Adrienne, Corey, and Sabby, then heading to San Antonio to spend time with Dana before heading back to Houston.

The next week I went to Hawaii with my family for two weeks. One week after that I found myself on a plane flying to England, my life reduced to two incredibly heavy suitcases. After I was settled in England, I got an e-mail from my parents telling me something had come for me in the mail from the PC: the medical kit.

The next part of the odyssey had begun.

And so it begins...

The next phase of the Peace Corp waiting game, that is. The application process has been going on for well over a year now, and I was officially nominated almost exactly nine months ago. The journey to this point has been long and frustrating, and the odyssey continues as I try to be patient for an invite I try to remember may never actually come. Who knows what could come up, what 'i' I forgot to dot, what 't' was not crossed. As the last generic letter I received from the Peace Corps said, applications are at their highest and there are just too many people for how many positions there are. I'm hoping though. I really am. Four to six weeks, it said. Hopefully I should know within four to six weeks.

In my restless waiting state, as I procrastinate instead of studying for the Latin exam I have in a week, I enjoy reading the blogs of other applicants and volunteers. Seeing their stories of far off lands, knowing that they have gone/are going through the same frustrations that I went through in the application process helps take the edge off of my anxiousness. It's an anxiety born out of limbo, not knowing what will be happening in a few short months after I'm done with my Masters here in England, where I'll be moving to, what I'll be doing. I feel like I can't even make holiday plans, because if I leave for the Peace Corps in September, like I was originally nominated, I'm probably going to want to return to the States earlier than planned so I can spend more time with family and friends before this great adventure. But if I'm not leaving until October, November, whenever, then I hope to stay in Europe for a while longer, either until my money runs out or my visa does, whichever comes first. I'm just so excited sometimes that I feel like I can burst, and with every day that passes without word, even if I know there won't be a word for several weeks yet, my desire to know what will happen grows.

I have backup plan after backup plan, what I could do if I don't get into the Peace Corps. Plan for the worst and hope for the best, right? I could go to California and live with my sister, working at any job I could find, probably returning to the dreaded food service industry. I could go back to Houston and return to teaching at Harmony, where I could be with the students I miss more than I am willing to admit. I could apply to teach at a university in China, maybe contact the school I worked at in 2007 who offered me that graduate teaching gig in British Literature. No matter where I go, though, I could take French classes, and possibly apply for a PhD, of course assuming this Master's thesis goes well. All else fails, I'm just going to say screw it and go to culinary school. Or run away and travel with the Renaissance Festival.

Ultimately, that's not what I want, though. I want to join the Peace Corps. I want to find myself someplace random, experiencing a new culture, learning a new language. As I also try to learn French, the language I'll need if I do decide to get a PhD. And keep up with Latin, of course.

Maybe the creation of this journal was premature. I was going to wait until I had the invitation in hand, a date and place to announce to the world with excitement and pride, the journey officially beginning. I just can't wait, though. I guess this too is just a part of the journey, as valid as any other.