My Peace Corps chapter of my life deserves an ending. Not one that ends with an abandoned blog, unanswered questions and feelings of loss.

I wanted to give it time before I wrote this final report, hoping that my thoughts would become more concise, more comprehensible to someone who wasn't in my head. After almost an entire month of being back, as I sit here in my parents' basement, I'm still at a loss of how to get all these conclusions out.

I guess I'll start off by saying that I have very little complaints about Peace Corps. I think entirely too many people cut it down. It is what it is. It's an opportunity for Americans to give a little and take a bit more. It's a chance to see what lays outside the comforts that you know, and how the rest of the world lives everyday. It's a opportunity to see the world in a way that you might not be possible without the Peace Corps. And it's a way to take this generation, which is slowly losing its compassion for each other and reintegrate with the core of being a human being. 

Because, there is that moment for every volunteer, when you are sitting in your village, whether it be in the Sahara Desert of Mali, or the tropical islands of Vanuatu, where you come to realize we are all in this together. That thousands of miles away from where you are sitting with your host brother playing cards and betting with seashells, you can picture your own brother learning to play a good game of Texas Hold'em. And yes, they are entirely different environments, but the overlying theme is the same. We are all in this together. When it comes down to it, it doesn't matter your skin color, your citizenship, your job, it matters that we are all humans. And the beauty of Peace Corps is that it allows you to find your humanity again. It forces you to forget the differences, and see the similarities.

Some would say I've been dealt an unusually difficult hand this past year. The tragic loss of a boyfriend, the evacuation from my home in Mali and an unsuccessful run in the South Pacific Islands left me worn down to a place I didn't even recognize myself. I had deep wounds and was trying to cover them with band-aids of rushed new relationships, repression and sheer denial. I wasn't fine, and no matter how many times I said it, I knew deep down, I wasn't. Yet, a month back in the states, with some time to think and take a step back, I can actually say I will be fine. But let me clear, it's not because of some moment or cheesy quote I read. It's because of my experience as a whole with Peace Corps.

I learned an important lesson in understanding and living life. I've lived in one of the poorest countries in the world, where people struggle each day to feed their children. I've seen happiness in places that seemed so dark that I never thought light could reach. And that is what Peace Corps allowed me to do. It allowed me to take my problems and take a step back and say, “Is this really how you want to handle your life?” The things and people that have been taken away from me this past year will always be a part of me. Living in Mali and Vanuatu did not downplay the pain of the past year, but it did allow me to learn how to react.

You see, Peace Corps allowed me to go to a country where I learned a lesson I will repeat every morning when I wake up. Mali and Vanuatu taught me that you have two options to live your life. You can sit and say, 'Man, this sucks. Nothing is going my way, I can't catch a break, why won't just one thing go the way I want?”. This will cause you to never let go. I could sit here and question the death of a loved one, the heartbreak of leaving a country and village that felt like home, or I can make the change that so many people in Mali and Vanuatu have shown me. I can take a step back and say, “Ok. This happened. Now let's look toward tomorrow.” Malians showed me first hand that you can't live in the past. Especially in a place where so many things go wrong, it's not feasible to focus on every hardship. Instead, you celebrate when the good things happen. You party like it's 1999 and remember that tomorrow is a new day.

I came back to the United States to a party. It was my cousin's wedding and it was a fantastic weekend. I was welcomed back with dozens of open arms and tons of questions about Mali and Vanuatu. There was a moment where I was sitting watching everyone dance at the wedding. I was distracted, thinking about, well everything--the past 13 months of my life and the rollercoaster it has been. And then I remembered Aminata, my host mother in Mali. I remember what she told me when I offered my condolence for her deceased brother. She said that there are too many good things in life to focus on the sad. Too many miracles everyday, right in front of you, that you will miss if you focus on only what is going wrong.

I looked into the crowd, saw my entire family celebrating this amazing occasion and followed Aminata's words and did the only thing that felt right. I fist pumped my way into the circle of my family looking at every one of their smiles with an immense sense of gratification and happiness.

So thank you Mali, thank you Vanuatu, and thank you Peace Corps for giving me this opportunity. It's been one crazy ride, but I leave with very little regrets and a new understanding of not only my own life, but the undeniable human connection and optimism that can exist right before our very eyes.

I returned to the United States last month.  The following is an e-mail I sent to my close friends and family explaining (sort of) my decision.

I plan to write a longer entry in the next couple days.

Hello all,

For some of you, this e-mail might be redundant, and for others, sorry
I am dropping such a bomb.  I've decided to return back to the US and
terminate my service as a Peace Corps Volunteer.  I'll be returning
back to Michigan at the end of this week, in which I'll quickly skip
over to Chicago to celebrate the first marriage of my generation in my
family (!!!!).

I wish I could put it simply on why I am leaving Vanuatu.  It'd not
only be easier for you to hear it, but also really soothing for me to
put into words why I am just..well, unhappy.  But unfortunately,
things just aren't always so clear and you sometimes just need to
listen to yourself and go with it.  If you really want the list of
reasons, you can pay for a cup of a coffee for me and I'll tell you
the story.  But to be honest, I'm not sure that coming home is the
answer to my problem.  But I know that a change needed to be made and
I confidently feel that this change will be good for me.

I come away with this experience with this: Africa is awesome.  And
not awesome in the way a surfer dude says the waves were awesome, or
that shirt is awesome, but awesome in the way the word was meant to be
used.  The places I have been in Africa actually inspire me with
awe--a feeling of inspiration, fear and reverence.  And I think when
it comes down to it, while Vanuatu is a tropical paradise island, I'm
left with little emotional connection.  The people were great, the
scenery is breathtaking, but the work I was looking at doing was
simply not my cup of tea.

So what is next?  Well after an upcoming weekend of celebration, hugs
and happiness with my family in Chicago, I'll be taking a small road
trip with my brother and mom to New Jersey and New York to visit my
grandmother and a couple friends (for those of you who live in NY,
SURPRISE!!!) After, I'll sign up for a years worth of science classes
to acquire all the necessary pre-reqs to apply to go to school to be a
Physician's Assistant.  I've realized from my time abroad that I
indeed do want to do work in the medical field (cue Dad's
exclamation).

I thank you all for your support while I was abroad.  I've saved all
letters, e-mails and love that was sent from afar and I can't even
begin to express how much it all meant to me.  I can't wait to start
this next chapter and see all of you a bit more regularly.

Peace, Love and Life Changing Decisions,
Lee

I've been stunted for the written word these past couple days. It feels like I'm in paradise waiting for the other shoe to drop. It can't be THIS beautiful all the time. Not every person can be THAT nice. So in the meantime of my very weary introduction to the South Pacific, I've decided to hold a Q&A for all my loyal readers. I must preface this entry by saying I have yet to spend any large amount of time outisde of Vila. This means I have been exposed to the wealthiest ni-Vans (locals) and have a VERY narrow idea of what life is like here. Enjoy, and hopefully soon I can be a bit more poetic.

Question: How are you feeling?

Answer: Nervous. It's hard to not fall into this trap of thinking this whole thing is going to be a breeze. I'm surrounded by beauty--- the ocean, volcanos, GREEN, all things I've been sorely missing the past couple months. But then I remember it is also considered to be one the most dangerous countries for natural disasters in the world, isolation is a guarantee and I'm here hiding out in a pretty nice hotel overlooking the Vila Bay.

Question: What do you eat?

Answer: Right now, being in Vila, I've been eating pretty standard food. Since this town is extremely touristy, you can find most anything here, but the prices are even more expensive that what you might find in NYC (Read: cannot afford as a Peace Corps Volunteer).

Question: Where are you living right now?

Answer: This past week I've been staying in Vila in a hotel going through 8 hour days of orientation. I've started learning Bislama which is coming along quite well as it is based off of English and requires you to think like a 3 year old. Tomorrow I head to Emua, a smaller village on the northern part of Efate (main island).

Question: Have you been to the ocean?

Answer: Yes, I live on a island where it takes about 1.5 hours to go completely around the island in a car. I see it every day, and yes, it unbelievably beautiful and I still can't believe I am going to live here.

Question: What are the people like?

Answer: So far, so good. Being in a tourist town, it's hard to differentiate yourself from the Aussies and Kiwis roaming around in short skirts, but once you start to speak Bislama, most people guess you are Peace Corps. Since we are the largest volunteer organization in Vanuatu, we are pretty well known, even in the smaller places.

Question: Where will you be living in 3 weeks?

Answer: True to Peace Corps form, I do not know yet. I know the three locations that they are sending us to, but we do not know who is going where yet. The three islands are Efate (northern part), Malekula, and Ambae. Check em' out.

Question: Lots of bugs?

Answer: Yes. Fortunately, there are no poisonous snakes or spiders on all of Vanuatu. Unfortunately, that doesn't mean there aren't a million different types of bugs to pester you.

Question: When can I come visit?

Answer: Whenever you'd like. Cyclone season is from November to April, so I'd probably recommend heading over here not around then. Most volunteers have said they can usually get flights from Los Angeles to Vanuatu for around $1800 (RT). I also plan to come home next summer for about 4-5 weeks in July/August for these two people I know getting married.. :)

Question: What is your internet situation?

Answer: Starting tomorrow (Sunday), I head to my homestay village for two weeks where I will have no internet. After that I should have internet on and off for about two weeks. Then it's off to my island and I will have to update then about the potential or lack thereof of internet. As a guideline from other volunteers, I'll probably have internet every 3 months or so.

Question: Are there are lot of fisherman and divers?

Answer: On the islands, everyone fishes. They use spears and usually eat reef fish which aren't great in taste but the deep sea fish are too expensive for the locals to enjoy. There are diving places here, and as a PCV you can do an open water dive in the pacific for about $60. You can also get PADI certified here for a grand total of $300.

Question: Was the flight in from NZ mostly Kiwis or natives?

Answer: Combination. Front of the plane was Kiwis and Aussies, back of the plane were locals and me. It was a interesting (Read: smelly) time.

Question: What is the city you live in now like? paved roads? dirt roads?  buildings made of concrete?  how big is the island?

Answer: There are paved roads in the city, but they aren't great. Buildings are pretty varied, some are tin roofs, some are concrete with glass walls looking over the ocean. Really depends on the owner. Efate is not actually the biggest island. The population of all of Vanuatu is around 280,000 with about 100,000 people living in the capital of Port Vila (where I am now).

Question: What is the drinking-water situation there? Better than Mali?

Answer: I would say as a whole, yes. There are definitely some places where people get pretty sick from the water, but it doesn't appear to be as common as in Mali. I will have an area by me that collects rain water and drink from that water source.

Question: Is it humid?

Answer: Yes. I have an Afro.

Question: What is the best and worst part of vanuatu thus far?

Answer: It's absolutely beautiful. No picture I take even comes close to the beauty that exists here. I'm not quite sure the worst part yet. I think I'll really come to know that when I am in a village on a sparsely populated island and things start to become real. I guess I'd say while Vila is nice, it's amazing how touristy and nice things can be here and know that only one island away, it's a whole other world.

Question: Is living in Vanautu (sp?) technically like living out the tv show Lost? If so, which character are you?

Answer: Kate.

More questions? Let me know! Leave a comment or e-mail me at [email protected]

It’s an interesting feeling being on three different continents in two weeks.  Besides the unbelievable amount of daily exhaustion that arises with me every morning and lays me to rest each night, it’s been an amazing (although I might chose a different word) that I would describe these past couple weeks.  I left my home, went back home and am hours away from flying to my new home. 

It all feels a bit surreal for a lack of a better word.  I feel like I should be flying back to Namposella, seeing my friends and family I have there and continuing this journey in West Africa.  The fact that I have packed four bathing suits should be a clear sign I am definitely not going back to landlocked Mali, but still, my brain has not caught up to the motions of my arms packing my bags for a completely new place.

I truly can’t believe I am doing this again.  I think I secretly thought when I was on the plane home from Africa that the next flight out wouldn’t be for a while.  Yet here I am, checking in for my flight, trying to get a hold of the last of the friends and family, preparing to jump on another across the Earth flight. 

I think what I find most difficult about this entire do-over is that in Mali I already felt overwhelmed with how many people back home I missed.   It wasn’t just a couple people, but it was amazing to me just how many people I stayed in touch with and thought about on a regular basis.  Now, I leave to go to Vanuatu with an entire new family of Peace Corps Mali that I add to my list of people to think about.  Who originally were the ones that coaxed me through my homesickness are now a part of the people that I will now miss.

I’m off to pack the last of my bag—nothing like packing for 2 years in 2 hours.  

As I sit in the Accra airport, there is quite a lot going on in my head. Besides a aching head from a cold I picked up when consolidated with 190 volunteers, there has been little time left to contemplate everything until now. And as I sit here, about to jet set to the United States, it makes me realize how much my life has changed in the past 9 days. A mere week and a half ago, I was in Koutiala, Mali getting ready to return back to my site to continue on my 27 month journey in Mali. Now, I am visiting the U.S for a very short time before heading back out into the Peace Corps world. Only this time, instead of the dry saharan arid land of Mali, it will be the island nation of Vanuatu, filled with a color I haven't seen in plenty for a while—green.

I wish I could say I was as excited as my family is to visit me now. It's just at this point, even as I am in another African country, I miss Mali. I miss the kindness I have never seen in another culture as I have in Namposella. I miss the ease of conversation—that whenever things turned quiet, you could always make fun of a last name and revive the chat. As great as Ghana was, it was the first time it made me truly appreciate the language barrier that existed in Mali. Being able to converse with a Ghanian was rewarding, but being able to converse with a Malian in Bambara? There is no greater lingual reward. I will miss the conversation, I will miss the jokes, I will miss the people, I will miss Mali. In six short months, it has taught me a kindness and generosity that runs deep beyond the amount of money or food you have to share.

To Mali—may peace return quickly and to the next chapter—Vanuatu, please continue your political stability.