I’ve been out of Moz for one month and one day. I’ve been back in the States for 11 days. The time between exiting Mozambique and entering America was spent in Bali, Singapore, Cambodia and Vietnam.
The globe trot has been fun. It has also been a nice diversion from the sadness that came with saying goodbye to Manjacaze and the uncomfortable transition phase that welcomed me on American soil.
So, where am I at?
Physically, I’m writing from White Bear Lake, MN, sitting across from Andy at caribou coffee drinking a delicious white mocha while it’s -15 degrees outside. Emotionally, I’m happy, sad and uncertain all at once. My optimism is high, but so is my skepticism.
Although I am no longer physically in Mozambique, I feel like I haven’t quite left yet. Since I’ve been home, I have felt like a visitor, taking a break from my real life back in Manjacaze. The fact that my time in Manjk has ended doesn’t feel real or final. I still talk about my life in Moz in the present tense:
“I teach secondary school math”
“I go over to Mana’s for dinner almost every night”
“The neighbors laugh when I walk the dog on a leash”
“Filipe and I practice English together”
“Gerlado and I make brick-oven pizza because it’s the only dinner than we can agree on”
"I don't understand most conversations that are happening around me"
“My students are awesome”
“Nelcia and I talk about Fat Amy like she’s our friend”
"Most of my friends are teenagers or over 40"
I’m absolutely not ready to switch go to went, or are to were…and I’m not sure if/when I will be.
I also am having a very hard time letting go of the Peace Corps Volunteer part of my identity. We as humans attach onto certain ways of defining ourselves, both to ourselves and to other people. In college I was a soccer player and a Chi Omega and a Math Major. After college I had to find some other labels to hold onto, and latched onto runner. In Dallas I also added Yogi and Great Dane Owner to the list of ways to describe myself. Vegan happened for a bit and so did Crossfitter (if I didn’t add those two in, then was I ever really a vegan or did I ever actually do Crossfit?) When I joined the Peace Corps, PCV became the leader of the titles, and living in Mozambique seemed to be the most interesting and important thing about my current identity. I still held onto dog lover and runner and yogi, but PCV was definitely the strongest.
Once I got my R (Returned), I lost that easy, interesting and proud way to identify myself. Not only did I lose that, but I gained just a whole lot of limbo. I will be a graduate student, but currently I’m just an adult without a salary. I will have a part-time job but nothing really worth mentioning. I don’t have a home base. It’s too cold to set any impressive running goals and I’m not currently a member of a yoga studio. Lucy died. I am proud of the type of friend I am—loyal, giving, and intentional—but I haven’t seen most of my good friends in over 27 months.
So, as 2018 rolls in and a wonderful life adventure closes, I will challenge myself to be comfortable without a catchy way to describe myself. I am Sarah. I am a daughter. And a friend. I am bad at dancing and even worse at singing. I can run for a long time, and pretty fast. I practice yoga daily because it’s joyful. I enjoy serving others. I have a constant desire to meet new parts of the world. I started a bullet journal and it’s coming along. I love dogs and tolerate cats. I have a nice camera but I’m not exactly a photographer. I know some great people in Mozambique and boy oh boy do I miss them.
Those current self-identifying factors, which are all part of who I have been and who I will continue to be, will just have to be enough. Other titles will come and go, but I want to learn to be comfortable and proud of the permanent, albeit sometimes boring, things that make me Sarah.
Even after closing my serving, Peace Corps doesn’t cease to challenge me in unpredictable ways.
