Goodbye to my town

I wrote this as an email some time ago when I left my site and I thought I would share it here:

Saying goodbye to Sincape,

To be honest, I never really imagined myself as a Peace Corps volunteer living two years abroad in a poor community. I certainly did not believe it when my acceptance letter came and I was invited to serve as a volunteer in Peru... a country I knew very little about, even less the language! I didn´t love training, but I figured it was an adventure, and one of my fellow volunteers and told me on the flight to Peru the very first day that you just have to have in your mind that you will not leave, no matter what. Everyone made me feel like I would struggle, suffer and have a hard time for two years.

So what a surprise when the very first time I visited me town they had the entire primary school level out in the river waiting for me to walk to the school with them. There they recited poems and danced for me, making me feel loved and welcome. What a surprise that I loved my town, that I could be so happy with so little, that I could make friends in such increadibly different circumstances then what I had grown up with.

You all have shared parts of these two years with me through my emails and stories so I thought you might like to hear about how it felt to say goodbye.

My town decided to through me two parties. One was going to be a dance and drinking party at my house, and the other a student affair at the school. The weekend started on the Friday after thanksgiving when three of my best friends and fellow volunteers and one peruvian friend from the city came to my house with a bunch of prepared food and we shared thanksgiving dinner with my host family. We had a relaxing night of food and laughter and a small fire while one of my friends played some guitar: The next day was party day. I passed the day helping to get water for the house and hanging out with friends. The sound system came around 4 and I started to get nervous and excited. I had a breakdown at the start of the party watching my host Mom frantically prepare all the food and waiting for people to show up, but my host sisters and friends pulled me through. You can imagine how surprised I was when my host Dad asked me to write posters representing each of the community groups that donated to my party, and there were SEVEN! Both of the soccer clubs, the woman´s clubs, the school, the local police and the central community committee. I was shocked and touched that so many people came together just for me. The party was a great success. It started out with little kids doing dances for me and me joinging in with some volunteers. From a distance, (and with my friends creative decorating with balloons) I´m sure it looked like a little kids birthday party to start out! But eventually the adults came closer and the drinking and dancing started. At midnight I gave a speech. I thanked each of the seven groups and told stories about my time there, how they taught me to do laundry, laugh and say hello to everyone in a meeting even if your an hour late! When I started to thank my host family I broke down and needed a minute to recover, there were not enough ways to thank them for everything they did for me... and that is what I said. Afterwards, my volunteer friends and my host Dad said some very touching things about me, bringing me to tears again. Afterwards, we stayed up dacing until 4am.

The next morning was Sunday, my last Sunday with my family. I asked my host Dad for permission to use the moto because I had a Peruvian friend visiting from Chiclayo who know´s how to drive. With his help, I took my three youngest siblings to the local zoo, about 30 minutes away driving. I had promised them for a year to take them there, and I finally had the time and the ability to take them. They were thrilled and surprised and had a great time seeing all the animals. Before we left, I gave my host dad a photo album that I had made for the family, with a page dedicated to each family member and pictures of our two years together. To my surprise, my host Dad cried the entire time as he flipped through all the pages, remembering all of our memories together. It was another emotional moment.

Monday I was in the local school all day long. They cancled classed for the entire day to dedicate to me. The kids played soccer all morning, and the teachers had a delicious lunch prepared for me that we all ate together. After we ate, the kids did performances for me, dancing, singing songs, reading poems and giving speeches. I cried when a kid recited a beautiful poem for me that he had written himself... for me! I couldn´t believe it. But I cried even harder when my younger host sister, 9 years old, stood up and spoke in front of everyone about me. It was the first time she had spoken publicy in an event, and she didn´t recite anything or read a poem, she just spoke from her heart. The things she said were funny, about how I always give them free pictures and play, but it didn´t matter because I sobbed through the whole thing while the rest of the kids starred at me. I gave another speech about how wonderful the school has been with me and how wonderful all the kids are. I told them I hope to see them all being leaders in 5 or 10 years when I come back to visit. I talked again about my host Dad and how he always believed in me. It felt good to be able to express myself and thank everyone. I was given countless letters from kids I had worked with that I have saved to read in a quiet moment when I am traveling.

The day of my departure, after a day and a half of packing and organizing my things, my community said they would send me off the same way they invtied me in. That meant that all the highschool students walked with me through the entire town down to the river. The entire student body, teachers and some parents and friends came out to wave me goodbye. I proceeded to hug everyone, each and every nervous student, goodbye. The tears started to flow when I had to hug my host Mom and Dad for the last time. I cried until the next town, where my host sister who had married and moved, ran out of her house and stopped my moto so that she could hug me too.

I never imagined myself in a tiny Peruvian town without electricity or running water for two whole years... but I certainly never imagined the pain of saying goodbye. I am still getting phone calls and texts saying goodbye, and every single one makes me sad and grateful at the same time. I want to say thank you to all of you, friends and family back home, for supporting me through it all.