Are You Ready?

People often ask me what made me apply for the Peace Corps. I generally give them the virtuous answer- my dad was in the Peace Corps, the economy is terrible and I want a great opportunity, I love to travel and want immerse myself in another culture, blah, blah, blah.... But let’s get serious for a moment, the reason I applied was my friend Jane Farrell. Don’t get me wrong everything I say in my stock political answer is true, but Jane was the reason I actually began my application. Jane is the definition of an over-achiever. She is the girl who would read the entire New York Times, Washington Post, Economist and Wall Street Journal, go to 3 classes and 14 meetings, run a marathon and write a 35 page paper in one day. During the summer between junior and senior year of college she started to apply for things. And by apply I mean apply for everything I had ever heard of and 30 things I had never heard of. It came to the point that I couldn’t go to happy hour with her because I would have a panic attack just talking to her. So in order to preserve my social life and not feel like an epic underachiever I decided to start my Peace Corps application.

Now the applying for the Peace Corps and making it all the way though to your invitation is no easy feat. You are dealing with the federal government so by nature everything seems to take way longer and be way more convoluted than it needs to be. Also the wording of nearly every Peace Corps document seems to be hell bent on confusing and moderately terrifying you. For instance the Peace Corps medical packet is roughly 30 pages long. Somehow while filling out my forms I managed to tell the Peace Corps that I have braces, am on blood thinners and am morbidly obese- none of which are in fact true.

And then comes the glorious day that you get your invitation… For the first time the Peace Corps seems real because dates and names are placed with a mythical idea. Not that chilling in a retirement community in Cleveland, Ohio after graduation wasn’t the most riveting thing I have ever done with my life, finding out I was leaving for Peru was a necessary change of pace. When I got my welcome packet and felt like probably the coolest person ever until I read the plethora of booklets. To sum up the Peace Corps packs in a few simple bullet points:

· You will poop your pants- get over it.

· You are representing America always- no pressure.

· You will struggle- get over it.

· You will not change the world- get over it.

· You will have extreme emotional highs and lows- shit sucks.

· You will hate America when you return- get over it.

· You will spend all your money on long distance calls calling fellow Peace Corps Volunteers upon your return. (Clearly this point has not been updated since the invention of nationwide long-distance plans).

Exciting right. I know you all want to join now. I inspired you. Admit it.

The weeks and days leading up to my departure were filled with family, continuously eating myself into a food coma, friends, packing and the perpetual questions: Are you scared? Excited? Nervous? Literally every person asks this question, being sure to jumble all three emotions into one question. The answer. Obviously. Duh. Wouldn’t you be all of the above if you were leaving the country for 2 and a half years? And what am I supposed to say, no, I’m a such a bad ass I don’t feel fear. False. And in case you were wondering no I’m not fluent in Spanish. I’m roughly passable but when asked in my Spanish language interview what I did on a daily basis I said I read a book, go swimming, go to the movies, go dancing with friends, eat dinner with my family and drive to DC. It’s a jam-packed life I lead.

Why not ask questions like what is the most random thing you packed? Answer: a headlamp and Johnson & Johnson No More Tangles. Or how will you feel about a cold bucket shower for the next two years? Answer: mildly less than ecstatic. What was your most ridiculous freak out? Answer: being really concerned about Selena Gomez being on the radio, and being anxious everyone would think I’m boring because my shoes are all black or tan. If you know my shoe collection at all you can understand why all black and tan shoes would lead me to this incredibly logical conclusion. So anyways, next time you encounter a Peace Corps volunteer on the brink of leaving don’t ask the obvious questions because you will get the obvious rehearsed answers- try asking them a question they won’t have answered a million times.

So to sum it all up, yes leaving for the Peace Corps is an exciting and daunting task but I’ve had a year to begin to wrap my mind around it. And either way I’m going to be completely clueless upon arrival. I don’t even know what part of Peru I’ll be in past November 15^th. So I think am as prepared as I could be, which is basically a passable state of unprepared. I am thoroughly prepared to go to Peru and I noooooo clue what’s in store. But then again when do you have any idea what’s in store? When do I really ever fully know what’s going on? I generally lead my life in a mild state of cluelessness, so that feeling will come as no shock, and the rest will come when it comes. And hey, why not go to the Peace Corps? Your only 22 once.