I've been home for a little over 9 months now. That's enough time to grow a baby! In that time, I've been able to turn over and analyze every aspect of my time in Liberia and as a Peace Corps Volunteer.
And I feel like Liberia is my baby.
Or at least the culmination of my experiences in Liberia is like my baby. Now for a woman who's never felt any motherly instincts at all whatsoever, I feel oddly protective of my encounters abroad. I feel a sense of ownership over my site, my town, my community, my students and neighbors, and the relationships I had with many people. They're mine! Or were, at least. Gbarma and all of its contents and citizens belonged to me and Rachel and there was no questioning it.
But now that Peace Corps Liberia is reopening the post, as Ebola has been virtually eliminated from the country with no new cases in the past couple months (Woo hoo!), PCVs will soon be returning as Response Volunteers. The new program will allow RPCVs to serve for 1 year at various sites throughout the country, and there's a chance that someone may be placed at my site.
While I'm happy for my students--that they may soon have a PCV in their school and community once again--I'm a bit anxious too. Will their PCV learn how to understand Abraham when he gets excitedly flustered and bombards them with questions? Will they learn which ol'ma's to befriend in the market to not have their eyeball eaten? Will they know which neighbors to exchange food with? Will they know which sections of the chalkboard are best for drawing diagrams? Will they know which students need extra assistance in class and which ones should be left alone? No, no, no, no, and no. But they'll learn. And I have to learn to let go. I made my small contribution to the development of Gbarma, and now I have to learn to be okay with the fact that growth and development will occur under the guidance of another caring, committed PCV.
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Being in Liberia was definitely not easy-o. It was the most emotionally- and psychologically- trying period of my life. With that said, I wouldn't change it for anything. People often ask me, "Overall, did you enjoy your time over there? Would you go back?"
Without hesitation, I answer, "Absolutely," every time.
I like to think I helped the people I interacted with, even if just a little bit. While my students won't remember everything I taught them content-wise, they'll remember some of the "life lessons" Rachel and I taught them, such as why it's important to not spy (cheat) in class. But what I've come to realize is that Liberians helped me more than I helped them.
Liberia made me better; it made me stronger. Liberia taught me to have thick skin and to let other's negative words roll off my back. It taught me how read people, to foresee situations that could have disadvantageous results towards myself and my friends and steer clear. It opened my naïve eyes to the often not-so-pretty way the world of developmental aid operates, but it also taught me to take many things with a grain of salt. Liberians exude self-confidence and that definitely rubbed off on me, too; I've never felt more comfortable in my own skin. Overall, being a Peace Corps Volunteer in Liberia taught me to be flexible, resourceful, patient, and to have a sense of humor at all times.
And, most importantly of all, Liberia taught me to love.
I came to love my community, my students, and some of my neighbors...even "mother f-ing Momo" with his hysterical temper tantrums. I came to love wholeheartedly the way Liberians value their sense of community, the way they care for one another, and the way they love their culture and their country. And I came to love their culture and their country, too.
I also now appreciate everything about my life here in the States. From the little things like cheese sticks, microwaves, and seat belts to the big things like reliable healthcare services and indoor plumbing, life here is just so much more convenient. Bucket baths were fun and better than showers in terms of conserving water, but nothing feels as good as a nice steamy shower with running water after a stressful day. Oh, hot showers! Having the ability to get clean each and every day using hot, pressurized water that blasts from a shower-head is absolutely incredible and something I will never again take for granted.
So being in Liberia taught me to appreciate what I have. But what have I learned in my time home? Is this still what I consider home? St. Louis will always be home to me. My roots are here. However, Liberia is a place I can call my second home. I don't know if I'll ever live there for an extended period of time again, but I do plan on visiting within the next year or so and hope to continue to keep in touch with those whom I care about over there.
In my time back home, I've realized teaching is one of the few things I find rewarding, and I want to go into education. While teaching here will be very different than teaching in Liberia, I still want to be a part of the movement to help disadvantaged students. I'm ready to start a new experience, to make new memories, and to face new challenges. I'm ready to contribute to improving education for those who need it most in my home city. I want to help those students from low-income communities reach their full potential, which is why I've decided to apply for and join Teach for America. Fortunately, I've been placed in St. Louis, and I'll begin teaching full time this upcoming school year as a middle school science teacher (yay!).
Who knows what the future holds. All I know is that I'll be better prepared for whatever comes my way because of my time in the Peace Corps, and for that, I am grateful.
