Thoughts about joining the Peace Corps.
I am a night person.
One of my favorite things to do in the middle of night is to walk out onto the porch. Sometimes, even though I'm not a smoker, I'll smoke one of my mom's cigarettes. Sometimes I'll cozy up to our huge, old, smelly, outside mutt and talk to him, even though he is past the age where he can hear most of the sounds I can make. Sometimes I'll close my eyes and listen to the distant timberwolves, their cries weaving their way through the softly rustling pine and birch branches. But mostly I stand, cock my head up, and look at the stars.
One of the benefits of living in the sparsely inhabited North Woods is how brightly the stars shine. With relatively little light pollution, they sparkle like the gems of forgotten pirate treasure. I'd like to say that I stand and ponder the mysteries of life or my future. I'd like to say that I try to fathom the sheer amount of them in sky. I'd like to say that I try to figure out how people can be so different when we all live under the same sky. I'd like to say any of those things, but if I did I'd be lying. I don't think about anything. I just look.
I'll be in the Pacific Islands in just under two months, serving my country and my ideology as a Peace Corps Volunteer. In the pamphlet full of information on my country of service, Kiribati, it says that the stars shine brighter over the Pacific than anywhere else in the world. This I'm looking forward to seeing.
I feel that, at this point, I'm not doing anything of note. I've documented the hardships that I imagine I endure; I wake up every day knowing that what I do that day will not likely make an impact in anyone's life. Still, I try. I smile and joke with the customers at the store, and if I sense someone is having a bad day and would like to be cheered up, I make it my mission to do so. But I still feel like I'm just not doing enough right now. I became used to being needed in college as a friend, an authority figure, an integral member of a team. I felt like everyday was worth living because there was someone there who needed me to wake up. Now I feel...tarnished isn't the word I need, but it's the only one I've got. And yet I look forward to the time, in just a couple of short months, when I will again be valued for what I contribute.
If the stars shine brighter in Kiribati, I guess I can too.