The End is Near

The last few days I have been attending the illustrious and elusive Close of Service Conference, more affectionately known as our COS conference (Peace Corps loves acronyms).  I know you all are thinking, “Oh crap, I thought we still had a few more months to contact that seal trainer to make sure a baby harbor seal can greet Kelly at the airport!” 

Never fear, I’m still not coming back until early July, so you’ll have plenty of time to get that baby harbor seal to make an appearance and bake me a few dozen cookies  (Yes, I realize that without the comma it sounds like the baby harbor seal will be baking me cookies and after further review, I’m going to keep it like that because I like creating unrealistic expectations).

If I don't see this in the airport, I'm coming back to Cambodia.
Just kidding.  Just the seal is fine.  The cookie is kind of asking a lot. 

Speaking of expectations, that is really all this COS conference is about and as far as I can tell, it’s pretty much just a time to let us know that we will have no friends left, no one will want to talk to us, and American culture will be completely overwhelming (I heard you can get a diet coke that is orange.  Is that even true????). 

Needless to say, this is a time of high anxiety for most volunteers.  I just spent the last half hour looking through my calendar realizing that I have something scheduled every weekend (of which I only have seven left) for the rest of my service.  It looks as though the days of lounging in my special chair, reading for hours, and chatting with my favorite market ladies are coming to an end, and while this brings the excitement of being reunited with friends, family and McDonalds, it also brings the anxieties of how things have changed back home and within my own point of view. 

A lot of people understand that I must be so excited to come home.  I am, believe me.  I’m excited to live in a place where climate control exists.  I’m excited to drive a car and not be dirty all the time and have my own seat on the bus and have access to a washing machine.  I am so excited to start working toward getting my master’s degree in Library and Information Sciences while working as a graduate research assistant in the Special Collections department at the University of Iowa (that’s what I’m going to be doing, by the way).  I’m excited to be able to hug my mom, crack some jokes with my dad, watch movies with my sister, and endlessly debate useless topics with my friends.  I’m unbelievably excited for all these and more, mostly food-related, things. 

But as my time to leave draws closer, I am starting to reflect upon the things I will miss in Cambodia.  I will miss being a stone’s throw away from fresh coconuts, mangos, and 25 cent iced coffees.  I will miss being able to have conversations in a language I didn’t even know existed two years ago.  I will miss the feeling that comes with teaching my students something they didn’t know before, or helping them with their pronunciation until that get that “th” sound just right.  I will dearly miss the teachers at my school who have helped me understand what was going on during staff meetings and invited me to share a meal with their families.  I will miss all these other Peace Corps Volunteers who were crazy enough to spend two years in Cambodia with me, and I will miss simply riding my bike past majestic pagodas and into endless ride paddies. 

So while I’m so very excited to return home, I’m at the point where I realize that no matter what, my life will be completely different in just a few months.  Again.  And while some aspects of the transition will be easier this time around(I’ll know the language, for one), some parts will undoubtedly be just as shocking as my transition into Cambodia.  Like why is this coffee so expensive?  Why is it so cold in here?  Why won’t people stop looking at their phones but also seem incapable of emailing me back?  Why doesn’t everyone want to talk to me?  Aren’t they curious if I’m married or not, or how much money I make a month? 

It seems as though I’ll be sort of thrown into life again, much how I was in Cambodia.  After traveling to Vietnam and China for just a week, I’ll arrive home and have a little more than a week before I need to move to Iowa City and start my job.  There are plenty of doctor’s appointments and bachelorette parties and some much needed quality time with plenty of people I’ll have to fit in there somewhere, but I’m sure I’ll figure it out. 

In summary, I’m so very happy to tell you all that I’ll be back in a mere eight weeks, but this is tinged with the sadness I feel about leaving my home away from home for the last two years.  Of course, I’m not done yet, so expect some posts about my final projects and some more reflective ramblings.  And I promise I’ll do at least a few more embarrassing things I can blog about before I leave.  Goodbyes are awkward.  It’ll happen.