"Tell The World, I'm Coming Home"

By the time I fly into Cleveland, I will have taught over 3,200 students, gained two new families, traveled to 10 African countries, completed 4 journals, and spent 775 days calling Botswana home. In my 2+years of Peace Corps service, I have endured endless bad days and countless good days, with the inner monologue of Leslie Knope pushing me forward. I have made incredible friends, many lifelong, with whom I have laughed and cried and laughed till I cried. I tried my best to document the big moments on this blog, and I thank all of you for stopping in to read and support me from time to time. About 15 of you in particular have read just about every post, and for that I am truly touched.

I'd like to send a special shout out to my family. My mom and dad have supported me every step of the way. My mom's voice inside my head has kept me cautious and the mantra "I've promised my mother I'd come back in one piece" has kept me safe. My dad's declaration of pride has kept me moving forward, and always trying my best, even on the hardest days. My parents love, packages, phone calls, and family updates have been the best substitute for their hugs I could've asked for, and it was because of them that I was able to spend two incredible weeks exploring southern Africa with them, and two unforgettable weeks home. Mom and Dad, I could not have done this without you. Thank you. 

Miranda, Rachel, Eric, Jolynn, and Billy: thank you for sending me endless baby pictures, choir concert recordings, surprises in packages, texts, and love. The rare occasions we could call or Skype meant the world to me. Mostly, thank you for helping build my relationship with Kade, Rayne, and Elliot even from 8,000 miles away. 

To the rest of the family: between packages, Facebook, snapchat, and emails, I was grateful for all the moments we could connect. I am looking forward to being home for the holidays more than anything else. 

I certainly would not have gotten through PC without my friends back home as well. Thank you to everyone who sent letters and packages. To those who messaged me with updates or to check in. To those of you who kept me laughing with pictures and outrageous stories. I certainly felt the love, and it helped me be a better PCV. So much love to Ali, Allison, Britt, Glenna, Lisa, Rachel, SJ, Vlk, Glew, Carolyn, Becca, Molly, Samantha, Philip, Clay, Austin, and others, who were always there with words of encouragement or just to listen.

Bots 16s & Staff at our Close of Service Conference

I wish I had words for what my fellow PCVs have meant to my service. For now, I'll say thank you, and I can't wait to see you That side. 

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There was a blog post a few years back joking about how to take care of your newly returned RPCV. Some of my favorite points include allowing them to hide when they are feeling over stimulated and to not let them into a Walmart alone for several weeks. I am returning from service a different person than when I left. I have softened some of my edges, both literally and metaphorically, and it will take me time to adjust back to the high paced, individualistic, consumerist mecca that is America. I am used to having nothing to do but go to work every week day and wash my laundry by hand on the weekends. I am used to being inside my house by dark and waking up with the sun. I am used to only seeing american friends one weekend a month and spending most of the weekend talking about bodily functions. I can react strongly to violence in movies that others see as normal, not because I'm too sensitive, but because I've seen how violence impacts my students. I'm extra cautious around new people after spending two years being asked if I'll either give someone money or marry them due to my white skin and young appearance. I spend much of my time in self reflection or talking endlessly to other PCVs about condom olympics, gender based violence, or one of the 1000 acronyms that rule our service. 

On any average day I am grateful, grieving, and anticipating the future. I am overjoyed to be so close to seeing the people I love in America, but struggling to say goodbye to the people I love in Botswana.

I ask that you are patient with me. Understand that I may move a bit slow, need a bit more sleep, disappear from time to time. Understand that I am of the same essence as before, but much has also changed, and is still changing. Know that I will start 9/10 conversations with "this one time in Botswana." Try to listen and ask questions about my last two years, and I promise to try to listen and ask questions about yours. Be gentle with me when I don't understand pop culture references or I haven't tried the latest food craze. Be patient.

I can't wait to see you all. 

Cleveland, I'm coming hOme.