Less than a week ago marked three years passing since I graduated high school. Who’d of thought that I’d be halfway around the world serving with the Peace Corps? Oh right, I did. Ha. Ha. Ha. It is one of the advantages of being completely anal and having a ten year plan since you were 12. Le sigh. When things get so incredibly frustrating here, and I am ready to give it all up and catch the first flight back home, I try to remember why I wanted to do this, how I knew that I’d be hard, and what my purpose is in the grand scheme of things.
When I feel like there is no possible way that anything I’m doing here will make a big enough difference to warrant me being so far away from the ones I love and the things that I want, I remember the starfish tattooed on my back, and remember why I got it: to remind me that I don’t need to change the world to help people and to make a difference, doing something small, so small that it seems insignificant at the time can still have profound impacts on so many others, and if my serving here makes life easier or opens doors for one single person, then I think that’s good enough for me. When times get tough, I also think back on the process of getting here. I think of all the prayers that I sent up trying to find guidance to see if this is the right path for me, thinking that if I was meant to do this service, then God would make it possible for me to get here. And now that I am here, going through what sometimes feels like the most difficult experience of my life, I look down at the two little feet tattooed on top of my foot, and think back to the footprints in the sand, and the reasoning behind that tattoo, and know that I am not alone.
I said when I got my tattoos that I never wanted to lose sight of the reasoning behind them. I never want to lose what have been called my naïve and idealistic beliefs, and going through the challenges here tests them, and I have faith that I will return home a stronger person than when I left
I know there are countless prayers being said for me back home, prayers of support and encouragement. It makes me realize that I can and will do this. You all have absolutely no idea how much every email, every note, and every little one line facebook post mean to me so far away. It is hard to fathom at times how truly blessed I am to have friends and family that love me and support me the way that you all do. I love you.
Whew. Yeeeaaahhh. Sorry about that little schpeal. I just had to get that out. Knowing the astute powers of deduction that all of you incredibly brilliant people have, you’ll have probably picked up on the theme that jessika went through a rough spot. And here when I say rough, it is probably the understatement of the century. Ha ha.
I can’t really go into details, but the support from my family (y’all rock) and some of the other wonderful PCVs helped me to realize that I can make it through the difficult situations. After all, they call this “the toughest job you’ll ever love.” I don’t know about the love part just yet, but I have faith that it’ll come soon enough.
I know, I know. I’ve only been an official volunteer for about two weeks, but supposedly the first adjustment period is one of the hardest.
On a more positive note, I have actually started doing what I came here to do. I had my first English Clubs yesterday. I still have a LOT of room for improvement as a teacher, but I just had to kind of feel my way around to find out my students’ levels. I think it went well. I’m not going to go into a ton of detail now, but I’m sure I will later.
Signing off for now.
Miss you.
Love from Kyrgyzstan,
Jess
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