Tuesday, August 19, 2014

Endings & Beginnings

"What's up with the radio silence Meg?! I thought you finished Peace Corps already..." is probably what all of you are thinking right? And I mean rightly so. On August 7th, I officially ended my Peace Corps service and joined the ranks of the RPCVs (depending on who you ask it either stands for Returned or Recovering PCV). The end was a bit anticlimactic, running around Phnom Penh checking off things on my to-do list(s) and in the office filling out paperwork and getting people to sign off on various things as well as last minute personal errands. Unlike the COS the month before (which was for the majority of the education volunteers), there was little group celebration as people seemed tired from a long couple of weeks of saying good-byes at site. At least that is how I felt!

A lot has happened since then (I will get to that in a moment), that it all feels a bit like a dream. There was the completion of the Southeast Asia map mural, my friend Chamreun's baby shower (an event celebrated 2 weeks after the birth), fittings for sampots (traditional Khmer skirts) and outfits that my tailor friend Ee Roo and one of the midwives Heang insisted on giving me as presents. I crammed in 2 trips to Siem Reap for final goodbyes at my favorite coffee shops and guesthouse and with my tutor Sophoan as well as a extended host family trip for a Khmer buffet dinner with us all piled into my aunt's car one rainy night when my sister Ong had time off from work at the health center. There was mass cleaning of my room (on multiple occasions with the help of Emily), too many breakfasts at Bong Keya's to count, not to mention the coffee chats and the fried rice dinner party she threw for me. I had a last site visit from PC staff thanks to a minor accident, but which all worked out and I was able to ship a bunch of stuff to the office with them. In that final week, I wrapped up the nutrition project and made my rounds in the villages. Emily tagged along for many of my adventures including a visit to our friend Voleak's house where I may or may not have learned how to drive a moto (hypothetically... seeing as PC policy says no motos unless for primary assignment work and definitely only riding on the back... Whoops). Other rounds included giving out nine - yes 9 - framed 8x11 photos of myself decked out in Khmer wedding attire (from two separate occasions when friends from the States visited - thanks Cori, Ellen, and Maggie!). Narcissistic? Maybe... but they were a huge hit and put up alongside of other family portraits of similar spectacular photo-shopping mastery. Additionally, I put the same photos on business/name cards and on the backside put a little blurb in Khmer that said "Don't forget me. Thanks very much!" and then my US contact info. These I handed out like candy in the market one morning as I made my rounds to my favorite stalls and market ladies. (Now everyone expects Emily to do the same... Sorry I'm not sorry!) Thanks to my photographer (and wonderful site-mate) Emily, I was able to get photos with most everyone I interacted with.

What else did I do...? Oh yeah there was a Party. A party with a capital P was held at the health center on my final day at site. As it had been explained to me, it was to be a party in honor of the deputy director and kick-ass midwife turned Director, new staff (midwives, Sean and Pich), and side-note Meghan is leaving... I was told a month and a half prior to invite all of my friends and that I needed to get all done up. So the day of I got my nails done with my host mom, spent almost 2 hours at Ee Roo's for hair and make-up to rival any bridal party, and then squeezed into the outfit Heang had gotten tailored for me only 2 days prior. With fellow PCVs Emily (of course), Joel, Jeff and recent RPCV Kateri in tow and my host grandma yelling to hurry up and Ee Chhat (HC director ) calling every 2 minutes, we paraded down the street (maybe 150m) to the health center. It was probably quite the sight. Khmer-style bride Meghan holding hands with yeay leading her barang friends to the striped tent from which someone is sound checking the mic with a "hell-oh! Hell-oh! Muoy-bee! Muoy-bee! One-two! HelloHello..." over and over. A scene. A spectacle. So we get there and Ee Chhat runs out and gives me instructions to say hello to all the important OD folk and then proceed to greet everyone coming through the gate for the ceremony, mostly VHVs, teachers and my host family. Ushered over to a PC and English-speaking table, the ceremony begins. Quickly it becomes clear that the HC staff tricked me and this ceremony followed by a dinner and dancing party (to which I contributed funds) is entirely in MY honor. I was totally and completely floored by the speeches by the commune chief, the OD director and Ee Chhat about my contributions to the community and how much they would miss me. Then it was my turn to welcome everyone and express gratitude in a pre-scripted speech Ee had given me that morning to practice (in Khmer mind you). It was a bit choppy and choked up, but probably better than anything I would have made up on the spot, which would have included something dumbstruck like "woah I mean wow. thank you thank you!" The meal that followed was generously cooked by some of the VHVs and was typical wedding-style family-dig-all-in, which I barely had time to even taste as it became photo shoot and dancing and then a lot of toasting and cheers-ing with cases of Angkor beer. As per rainy season, it torrentially down-poured between the ceremony and the party and guests arrived drenched. I expected things to shut down for a bit as usual when it rains, but the music blared on with the giant speakers draped with tarps. The party went on and I was pulled out to dance in the rain with the VHVs and family of the HC staff. After 5 hours of constant dancing and merriness, I was exhausted. Seriously past my bed-time (at a whooping 9:30pm), I went to say my good-byes and found myself for the first time that week in tears. As I led (with the help of Ong) the other PCVs back to my house where we would have a massive sleep-over, I sobbed hysterically. Pitch black walking down the road by the light of phone flashlights, sobbing. I broke out laughing at the ridiculousness of it all. Welcomed home by Mai, we chatted and had some quality pillow-talk before falling asleep, only to awaken to a new day and a big change.

Still in shock from the outpouring of love from the night before, I packed the last of my things, had my final breakfast at Bong Keya's, took group photos and then got in a car to Siem Reap with few dry eyes to speak of. Mai and yeay were the two family members who accompanied me to the bus station and when they gave me hugs (a very American and not at all natural Khmer gesture of love) I felt physical pain. The pain of my heart breaking. (It sounds overly dramatic, but for anyone who knows the feeling of leaving or being left you may understand that hollowed out part inside that aches.) A physical and emotional sensation I am so grateful to have experienced when leaving my community. For as hurtful it was, it also was a signal of how much the people of Sasar Sdam have left impressions on my soul.

Now these memories feel more and more dream-like since I have removed myself from their immediate reminders and triggers. I am not back "home" - a concept I still struggle with and which has always puzzled me. On the contrary, I still have a month to go before I land back Stateside. I am currently writing this from the foothills of the Annapurnas, in beautiful Nepal, relaxing after a 9-day trek (where I may or may not have gotten altitude sickness at one point, but don't worry I am fully recovered now!). I have a little over a week left in Nepal on a pilgrimage of sorts to reconnect with the people and places that I encountered nearly 4 years ago while studying abroad with the School for International Training (SIT), the organization and experience that I credit for turning me on to Peace Corps in the first place. It just seemed fitting to come back here to pay homage to something that I can barely describe. Maybe a desire to make the world a little bit smaller through peace and understanding. Maybe a wanderlust with a humanitarian focus. Or whatever it may be... Here at an end, coming back to a beginning.

P.S. Trouble uploading photos. Words will have to suffice for now...

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