March 21st marked the two year anniversary of my flight to Washington DC to begin my Peace Corps service, and March 23rd the anniversary of my touch down in Ukraine.
For so long I’d been crossing off the days on the calendar, opening my planner only to find I’d already marked the day as through before it even began. At some point I stopped doing that, and my fudged countdown (In December I would say “Oh, I’ve basically got six months left” when it was more like seven and a bit.) is now being fudged the other way. I’ve got about three months left, according to my count, when the reality is closer to two.
I marked my two year anniversary with a brief toast with some close friends in a Russian bathhouse on the edge of town. We’d gathered there just because it was cold and that’s what you do–the toast and the date was a second thought.
In about an hour I’ll board the bus to Chernigov for my Close of Service Conference–the last time group 41 will all be together in one space. We’ll celebrate our time here and attempt to prepare the future. I’m talking lectures about how best to write about the Peace Corps in resumes and brief workshops about readjusting to life in the United States.
I’ve nearly wrapped up my work on the Write On! Competition–national winners have been decided and the results sent up to the next level. I still have a lot of work to do updating the website further, but the most important part is done. Maybe it’s time to breathe. Almost.
In the meantime, here is how I spent my Saturday night. Perhaps the hardest thing about readjusting to America might be the lack of a steady stream of Rockabilly music. I’m sure I’ll manage, somehow.