time to think

Overall, it’s been a fulfilling and rewarding (albeit challenging) three months thus far.

(You know, there are very few things more rewarding then feeling the sweet drip of warm sweat down your back…when you wake up…while you eat…while you shower.)

I kid, I kid.

As we’ve settled in to our permanent home, there has been a good deal of time given over to thinking.

Lots of time to hang laundry inside when it rains.

Thinking about why two usually sane mid-twenties newlyweds would choose to uproot their lives and do something as completely crazy as move double-digit-thousands of miles away from our home, dog-child, families and great jobs. 

Thinking about how much we’re missing being here.

When we got married, Topher and I were among the first of our friends to get married. We did have a few friends who were recently married, on the same trajectory as us- you know, get married, find a happy place to settle for a while, get a dog, think about “when” for kids.

Now, here we are, nearly two years later, and with ample thinking time has come the small worries.

Just how much are we missing? 

This hit home when one of my best friends from college (who, funnily enough, caught the bouquet at my wedding) did get engaged a few weeks ago.  I’ve been internally excited about this happening, and before we left, I told Chris that I’d be so sad if we missed this specific person’s engagement and wedding.

And now we will.

And when a brain goes down this path, you can’t help but think of all the others things we’re missing.

Another pair of married friends just had their first child.  We didn’t get to take them over a lasagna to welcome the little fella, and we’ll never get to join them at some fast food joint with the little guy wrapped tightly to stave off any crying.  Hell, by the time we get back, we’ll be able to go to a real restaurant with these awesome people and their son because he’ll be old enough to entertain himself in a public place by that time.

Le sigh.

Beyond the real moments that we’re already missing, there are the silly ones that don’t seem to matter until you don’t have the option of actually having them.

Like a five year college reunion.

Who really WANTS to go that?  Honestly? Beyond the chance of good finger goods and free wine, does anyone actually lament the missing of a school reunion?

Good lord. I need help. And how!

And baby goats. Always good.

And then there’s a last, lingering fear that I don’t want to put into words, but I will, dang it.  I had an amazing job with amazing people before we up and decided to move out of the country.  At my lowest, saddest moments, I can’t help but wonder: am I setting myself back, career wise, by being here?  My co-workers that I love so much will have two additional years at our amazing organization under their belts when I come back.  And I won’t.

I don’t regret being here. I don’t regret renting our house, having my parents adopt our dog for two years, leaving behind a job I enjoyed immensely.

I don’t regret, for one second, being a Peace Corps Volunteer.

Sometimes I have to remind myself of that.  I know you’re maybe not supposed to say that out loud, but I don’t give a sack of hoots. Sometimes, three months in, when I’m still figuring all of this out and am constantly reminded of all that I am missing, I have to step back and remember: I do not regret joining the Peace Corps, moving to Cambodia, and becoming a Teacher Trainer Volunteer.  I do not regret living with my amazing husband, meeting amazing people, both Khmer and American, and beginning to acquire a small understanding of this amazing new culture and way of life.

I do lament all the things I am missing and will miss.  I lament missing a wedding I’ve been looking forward to for a long time. I lament missing the early years of our friends’ babies.  I lament all the things I don’t know that I’ll miss, that I inevitably will.

But I also know how much more regret I’d be left with if I weren’t here, on this adventure, gaining all that I have and all that still awaits me.  There is nothing like the Peace Corps when you seek to gain cross-cultural skills, learn a new language, and truly understand compassion that pervades the human race.  Being here is giving me invaluable tools of skill exchange- I am taking all that I’ve learned about good teaching, spreading that knowledge to talented people, and learning more about education in Cambodia.

And every part of this experience will be applicable and vital for my career, and my life, when I return.

And sometimes, you just need to write that down and come back and read it, when you’re bound to feel that way again. 

And how.