Why? (Half Filled Suitcase)

“Home is a place you grow up wanting to leave,
and grow old wanting to get back to.”--John E. Pearce

To those whom it may concern:

A lot has developed since my first blog attempt. On the Peace Corps front, I am booked for orientation in Miami and Pre-Service Training in Suriname. This morning, I chatted with my Community Economic Development Advisers about my training, expectations and what to expect in Suriname--an all-you-can-take buffet of rain, heat and humidity with a high probability of no electricity or running water. I already know what you're thinking: I must be crazy. And in all honesty, a part of me agrees with you.

As my departure date approaches, I stare more intensely at my half-filled suitcases and wonder what else can I put in them. On one of my regular excursions up to Chico, the packing list is pretty simple: Irish Pub and Springsteen T-shirts, pair of blue jeans, maybe two pairs of boxers and walk in and out with the sandals on my feet. For the Peace Corps, I've decided to switch to boxer briefs and add a few more pairs to my inventory for sanitary purposes. But jokes aside, the clothes are the easy things one packs up. It's the scattered pieces on the floor that are most difficult to pick up and pack because you're afraid you might forget something that really matters.

Literally, scattered across my bedroom floor are some old flicks, records, paperbacks, yearbooks and pictures of family and friends. As much as I'd like to bring all these things with me to Suriname, I know the logistics will not work out. And even if I could take all these things, they won't shorten the distance I will be from home. And therein lies the craziest thing about the whole Peace Corps experience. It is not the electricity or the running water that will be difficult to give up and overcome, but the lack of familiarity, the people I have known and the comforts of home. And when you're sitting there in your room at night, trying to pack up the past 23 years of memories into some already half-filled suitcase, you realize it is an impossible chore...