Wrapping It All Up

It would not be fitting for a blog about Peace Corps and Macedonia to end on an account of my travels to Iceland, hence this last and final post.  I deliberated writing more posts upon my return, given a sudden surplus of idle time awaiting me at home.  But every time I tried to write something, my interest waned and my writing proved bland.  Thus I decided to wait out the end of summer and allow myself three months before I reflect on my return to the USA.

The Return

Of course, upon seeing friends and family upon my return, they would ask me "How does it feel to be back?" and "Do you miss it?"  Answering either question is difficult, especially since my feelings shifted each day, and mostly I was not sure how much patience the interrogator had to deal with a question demanding such a complex answer (so I mostly just responded succinctly, yet politely).  Confronting this question here to myself, and to potential RPCVs who are reading this blog, I can say that it was pretty awful to return.

My reasoning for using such a strongly negative label for my return has little to do with the culture shock of returning.  I love the United States, and I am lucky to live in a metropolitan city like Chicago.  I was reunited with my loving family, and I was even lucky to see many of my closest friends during the summer.  And sure, there are some things that I miss about my lifestyle in Macedonia and Peace Corps (and I miss the people too), but readjusting to the culture of the United States was not that tough.

I think what made transitioning back to the USA was my lack of purpose.  As soon as the token-ness of reuniting with people wore away, I would instantly become jealous of the lives that they were leading.  Besides attending a few weddings and making a short trip to the East Coast, I pretty much did nothing for my first 1.5 months back in the States.  Sure, it was nice to enjoy a summer vacation with downtime similar to that in high school.  But I did not have any friends with whom I could share this bounty of leisure time.  I felt alone in my boredom.

Night out with friends in DC

Groomsmen at my best friend's wedding 

Tying the knot

Sweet home, Chicago

With the family for Independence Day

Instead of sulking, I decided to make the most of my situation by training in bartending and applying to work at bars.  I unfortunately was not accepted to any of the internships to which I applied (frustratingly, even to the unpaid internships).  So instead of professionally developing myself, bartending seemed to be the past time through which I could interact with others and save a few bucks.  While I applied to many places in Chicago for work, I was lucky enough to be hired at a brewery in Southwest Michigan, where I spent the latter half of my summer.

My work at the brewery was a blessing in disguise, since it helped me transition to life back in the States.  It was located in a more rural area of the State, and patrons would hail from Illinois, Indiana, and Michigan, thus allowing me to connect with people from the area.  The brewery was also in its incipient stage, opened for fewer than two weeks when I was brought on, and so I was able to see it grow and adjust through its first period in business.  Now I prepare for graduate school in Boston, and thus I hope that I will gain fulfillment from working toward that which I am passionate for, namely International Development and Affairs.

Now I would not go to say that the Peace Corps is lousy at preparing PCVs for their return to the States.  The resettlement allowance that we accumulate during our service is hefty, though considerably small when taking into account the typical expenses that add up over three months (including insurance, student loans, rent, utilities, purchasing new clothes and personal items, and traveling abroad after service or around the USA).  RPCVs also are qualified for non-competitive eligibility status, allowing them to pass some of the hurdles of government employment.  This of course, was not an option for me due to graduate school (but my NCE will be deferred during my studies). 

Yet it is admittedly difficult to transition from a lifestyle where three goals cast over your work and lifestyle.  Peace Corps life also offers a support structure of other volunteers whose lives are typically similar to one's own, an element that I lacked for my first months back in the USA.  Finally, while my experience was personally profound, I still feel that I have not progressed as much as my family or friends, who have since my time in Peace Corps married, had children, or purchased their first property.

For all these reasons, my return to the USA has not been the most pleasant experience of the Peace Corps journey, yet I continue to smile through my teeth when people ask me about it.

Night out with the co-workers

Matching at the brewery

Kayak trip in Northern Michigan

What I Learned

A question nobody has asked me since I returned is, "Do you think that the experience has changed you?"  This question is more significant to me, especially since our former PC Macedonia Director used to frequently tell us, "You will gain more from this experience than you will ever contribute."  I already wrote a post about how I do not recognize who I was before I started my PC experience, so I will not bore the readers to juxtapose my current and former selves further.    Yet there are now three mantras by which I live by thanks to my PC experience.

1. Don't be an asshole.

It is a simple idea, the basic "Do unto others as you would have done unto you."  Yet personally it goes beyond avoiding harming others.  Instead, one should personally exude their best self whenever possible.  Constantly being in the spotlight has instilled in me the sense that I will always represent more than myself.  In the Peace Corps, I represented the United States, and thus my actions and words would reflect what host-country nationals would assume on the "typical" American.  Thus I constantly strived to be polite and to align my values to that which I would deem American.  The greatest reward and feedback that I received regarding this was from my former counterpart, who told me on my last night in Prilep that she and other AIESEC members previously did not have positive views on Americans, but that my work and collaboration with them completely changed this perspective.

For every Ryan Lochte in the world that lets their ego and sense of American superiority taint our image as a citizen of the globe, there are numerous PCVs out there counteracting his misconduct with good deeds.

 2. Don't obsess over people.

While my first mantra may be universally self-evident, my second may be a bit more controversial.  Through my toughest times in Peace Corps, I have discovered that I could never rely on others to make me feel better.  In the end, personal effort and time eroded most of the darkest moments during my service.  This may be counter-intuitive to the community-based work that PC is known for, and I do not decry such virtuous notions as seeking help or advice or working together as a team.  However, when I was most depressed or questioned my success or contribution to work in Peace Corps, I found that self-reflection, brainstorming creative solutions, and seeking opportunities in the community restored my positive attitude and provided me a new lease to motivate myself and keep on achieving.

Many times during service I observed other PCVs obsess over other people, either due to some drama or love interest.  I saw these interactions tear the PCVs apart, and I quickly realized that divesting from others and focusing on work was the best way to experience self-worth from my service.  My statements may make it seem that I argue against falling in love, which is false- if the feelings are mutual, I say "right on".  Yet each individual should have passions that drive him forward in life, and sometimes in Peace Corps a lack of purpose may drive a volunteer to pursue another person with a similar abandon.  Overall, I have never solved a problem I was facing by relying on others, and thus this PCV experience has provided me with my own Thoreau-ean experience.

3. Just Try

This is a mantra I developed since returning to the USA, and sure, sounds very similar to the Nike slogan.  Yet it reflects the "not my problem" attitude that I observed most Americans have.  Simply, each individual effort to remedy a social ill will compound so that the issue seems surmountable.  In Macedonia, I faced a lot of listless complaining, including that Macedonia was too poor, or that things were better in the past, or that the government is corrupt, etc.  But especially when working with college-aged and high school students, they would at least brainstorm possible solutions to these social malaises. 

I flew over an ocean to offer a people of a developing country my energy and skills (whatever those may be), yet here in the States we have countless problems that need fixing.  While working at the brewery, I have heard numerous patrons react and say that urban violence cannot be solved because the police cannot do their jobs anymore.  Yet while the law enforcement is vilified by social media and the Black Lives Matter movement, and while minorities still feel threatened by the rule of law, an "impossible" situation can easily be solved by community involvement.  I have seen it work before in Peace Corps, and the reasoning for the solution is simple: understanding and trust can overcome many bounds.

We are set to live in a world of rising temperatures and pollution, yet Americans (even those who do not deny in climate change) fret that there is little we can do at a micro level.  Yet even my own family cannot correctly recycle items according to the rules of the city of Chicago.  Macedonians conserve electricity because it is so expensive, and it was always surprising to me that the youth cared so much for environmental protection when countries like the USA, China, and India pollute way more. 

I am pursuing a career in development and diplomacy, so optimism is demanded of me.  But effort needs an economy of scale, one to which complacency seems to be the de facto attitude of most Americans.

Would I Do It Again?

One of the greatest moments I experienced upon my return from Peace Corps was talking to my cousin, who has expressed to me interest of joining the Peace Corps after graduating from university.  Explaining to him all of the challenges and opportunities about the typical service, judged through my experience and accounts of other PCVs in other countries, refilled me with enthusiasm I have not felt since my return.  I am always amazed at how such a sporadic idea like the Peace Corps is able to accomplish so much given its low budget and limited scope.

Now do not get me wrong, I do not see myself as a martyr due to my service.  Whenever people thank me "for my service", I honestly react that my time spent in Peace Corps was not a major sacrifice.  On the other side of it, I always feel the same appreciation toward our military who sacrifice their time in the service.  Yet when I extended the same regards to a young man serving in the Navy in the military during my trip to Iceland, he similarly said that he does not feel like he is making a sacrifice for his country.  Instead, he is living abroad at a young age, making a good wage, and is able to visit other European countries on each weekend.

But I do firmly believe that every American should experience something similar to the Peace Corps.  That experience should have them living abroad and immersing in the culture and society of the typical citizen of that country.  They should feel the frustration of learning a language, navigating an unknown city, and dealing with perplexing customs.  Most of all, they should feel the joy of being integrated into a foreign community and collaborating with others to solve a local problem.

Peace Corps was the experience that I needed to have.  I have learned important lessons that I could never fully grasp in a classroom or working for corporate America.  It may end up becoming the most formative years of my life.  So for those who are considering this 27-month (or more!) commitment, I say to them, "Ајде!"