Pre-departure life in Corvallisl

So, here I am. Sitting, once again, at a fancy, overpriced coffee shop where if I don't know my fellow interwebers personally, at least I know their face. Corvallis, oh Corvallis. People keep asking how I'm feeling. Am I excited? Yes. But I am also every other emotion. The literal, physical being of emotion. I never know when my need to cry will hit me. This is why I've been avoiding drinking more than one or two beers at a time (beer tears are genetic, you know). Sometimes it hits when I'm sitting at home, alone, trying to deal with the fact that I am voluntarily leaving the first place that I've felt more than nostalgic love for. I can't believe I'm leaving Corvallis. (!#@%&$$#&^%$^@!!!!) It is such a wonderful life here. Granted, sometimes I get so sick of seeing the same faces on the same 40 streets over and over again. But, this is home, and home has lots of good, fancy, overpriced coffee.

I've lately been going on long runs at night. I like to leave my house right at dusk so that I get a little bit of the waning light coming over the coast range. Whenever I head west, I get lost in a trance from the purple illumination behind Mary's Peak. I think, also, that subconsciously I recognize that my ability to a) go on long runs while remaining culturally/socially sensitive, and b) to go out (safetly) at night, will pretty much not exist once I am in Cameroon. I'm just getting my fill of warm summer nights and intentional exercise.

I am also trying to get lots of "firsts" and "lasts" in. For example, I went with Carl and his workmates to the oh-so-classy Peacock breakfast. For those of you not from Corvallis, the Peacock is a shady, dive bar where I will only go when there is karaoke and/or I've had enough to drink. And it is open at 7 am for a 2 dollar breakfast. I found out that I actually love this breakfast and I wish I had gone before. Also, I rode the bus for my very first time with Brianna. I ride my bike everywhere, so I had it with me when we took the bus. I got to hook it up on the front rack and pull the stop chord when it was my stop. The bus took longer than if I had ridden my bike, but it was my first/last. Most of my first/last list consists of eating food. Because I love food.

Aside from my (exhausting) mental prep work (which mostly consists of me sitting in the living room with the dogs, alone, listening to NPR until I've heard Terri Gross's interview with Jean Simmons at least twice in one day), I'm doing some actual prep work. This consists of a little bit of everything. Selling two out of three of my most valuable possessions (subaru, canoe) and figuring out what to do with my third (my bat-mitzvah bike). I'm also trying to accept the fact that I'm going to have to store more stuff at my mom's house. This is, in all other accounts, the very wrong direction I should be moving my stuff, especially since my goal is to be entirely out of her house by the time I'm 30. So, to try to deal with this, I'm attempting to minimize my "stuff." This mostly consists of me bringing stuff to the Goodwill and throwing stuff (old cards/letters) away. I just need to remind myself of the Buddha's teachings on earthly possessions, and I'm a-ok. Thank goodness for being comfortably middle class. I also like to set aside a few things each day that I can absolutely not forget. After an hour or two of these prep exercises, I like to try to remember all of the items that might come in handy. However, these things usually pop into my head when I'm on the toilet, or riding my bike, or on a run, so my fleeting thoughts keep my purchases down.

I am getting so close that I am also not able to sleep very well. I have not-too-far removed memories of pre-defense sleepless nights. I guess the two day staging in Philly will sort of be like my defense. Can I get my act in order in time? Gosh, I hope so! In between enjoying Oregon recreation, I need to remember to set aside time to get my act together! If not, Corvallis will get to have my goodbye/welcome back party all in the same week!

An invitation to serve

I have finally received my invitation to serve (which is what has motivated me to start blogging)! And surprisingly, I did some amazing detective work because I was spot-on with my guess. I will be leaving to go to Cameroon in mid-September to work on forestry/agroforestry type projects. As I've been getting closer to the date, and since I'm done with school and in a brief stage of limbo/vacation/unemployment, I've been doing a bunch of research to figure out what, generally, the Peace Corps experience will be like. Some reading materials shift my outlook towards excitement about the adventures that lay ahead, while others make me annoyed about some of the experiences that are probably in my future.

A few guesses: I'm going to have a slight advantage over other volunteers because a) I'm not fresh outta college (re: not as green), b) I've had some work experience in my field (as in generally the field of forestry in the US), c) I've been to Africa before, d) As a social scientist, I love new cultures and I love figuring out language and place and people, and e) I've done a LOT of reading on Africa, forestry, women, and etc. for my MS. I may even find that I'm slightly older than most volunteers, which will be a different experience than when working on my masters when I was the youngest person.

I've been reading through my packet of information that is supposed to be mandatory reading, but it's more like reading all of the "terms and conditions" that come with signing up for a new credit card... I'm guessing that the "dealing with culture shock" booklet will be more appropriate reading material for the bathroom than fo-scheezy reading. I guess they have to cover their bases.

So I still need to accept my invitation, but I really don't think I could have been placed in a better country. Aside from that, I will have some great connections, as my college roommate studied abroad there and my undergrad has a study abroad program there. So, I'm going to have to do a little more reading, but I'm probably going to accept the invitation.