first attempt

So, I'm going to Zambia! It's official. I decided at the end of August to accept my Peace Corps Invitation to Zambia. I will be leaving from Chicago January 21st and from the United States January 23rd (Emma's 18th birthday!), 2007. I come back in March of 2009! I will be working on a project called "Learning in Taonga Marketplace" which is a Zambian Ministry of Education- run radio program. So far, all I know is that the basic idea is to use radios in rural areas so that kids can learn in places where resources are lacking or non-existent...

Most of the time this feels like a great decision. I'm moving to Africa! I'll be working in development (whatever that means), trying to challenge and understand some of those theories that I spent so much time writing about at Brown. The reasons I accepted the invitation include wanting to push my boundaries, wanting to be in a community where I can't rely on fellow Americans and expats, wanting to serve by doing something tangible, wanting to make real relationships with real people in another country, wanting to believe in what I'm doing wholeheartedly, wanting to challenge and put some of my values to the test, wanting to commit to being somewhere longer than I've ever committed to being anywhere... and there are so many more complicated reasons.

People's responses to me telling them that I'm leaving for Peace Corps have been both encouraging and frightening. I've been told by a Texan woman that her prayers will be with me, that I'm doing something wonderful. That makes me a bit tearful and also wonder. How we can all start to incorporate decisions like this into our lives? Do I sit in her mind as a beautiful example but also an excuse to not act? Will her prayers reach me and the people I will be working with? I've been told I'm brave, I've been told that people will come visit, I've been told that I will learn empathy, that Peace Corps volunteers never get anything done, that I should maintain my idealism, that I shouldn't be too idealistic, that I should remember a compass and a knife, that I shouldn't hold romanticized notions of being the first white person... clearly I am something that people have responses to!

All of the different thoughts and reactions I get add to both my anticipation and my anxiety. What will the people be like? What langauge will I learn? Will I raft down the Zambezi? Will I get a kitty? All of those questions also get combined with some (rational?) fear. What if I am unsuccessful? What if I, a white American woman, can't make real relationships with real people? What if I feel directionless or bored? What if I try to grow my own produce and it fails and I'm hungry? What if Fatima's fear of me being attacked by a lion is something I should actually be worried about? (I mean, some are more real fears than others!). At times the decision feels daunting. How can I be about to say goodbye to people? How can I be moving by myself to a country where I didn't even know what language they spoke 3 months ago? I'm leaving DC in less than two weeks and then am off to Providence and Boston for a week and then back to Chicago for a couple months before I leave. There will be some minor jaunts off to other places including upstate New York, Maine, and New York City. Friends keep telling me that this isn't goodbye and that this is just an adventure; so, I hope you all come along, even just vicariously through these posts. And I know the questions are part of the adventure. I'm starting to feel SO excited about getting some answers.