Top 10 Peace Corps

It's been almost 10 years since I finished my Peace Corps service in Botswana. Which is crazy. But also interesting - as time passes, you talk about it and think about it less and less. You get less angry that nobody wants to see your millions of pictures. It comes up in passing such as "Oh, I missed that TV show because I was in the Peace Corps when it came out" or "Oh, I missed her wedding because I was in Peace Corps." But trust me, it's not like you're busting out your photos every other day or reminiscing on the reg. 

So I thought I'd take a minute and think about Peace Corps. Even though it's not part of my every day life overtly, it did change me in many ways. On a serious note, I think about HIV/AIDS a lot differently. With a job assignment specific to HIV/AIDS, I spent a lot of time thinking about it. And I met lots of people who are HIV positive, and I also watched many people die as a result. It is not some big abstract thing - it's very real and affected people that I knew and saw every day. I'm glad to read about strides that Botswana has taken in the past ten years on HIV prevention.

On a less serious note, I learned to appreciate the small unlikely things in life as a result of my Peace Corps tour. I won't bother to mention things like washing machines or running water because, well, that's just a given. In no particular order, here are the top 10 things I learned to appreciate in Peace Corps.

1. Ziplock bags. Do you have any idea how valuable these suckers are? I cringe every time I throw one away and try to think of ways that I can reuse it.

2. Opposable thumbs. When you spend an entire day trying to get by without thumbs, you appreciate them more than you would think. They really are a big deal.

3. Even though I may not keep up with everyone I met during my time in Peace Corps, new friendships changed my life. Different kinds of friendship - but all impactful. I'm not sure that I could ever find the words to express this to all the people who fall into this category.

4. Tortillas. Did you know you can make them by using flour and water and a wine bottle?  Crucial when you live in the bush. So was wine, apparently.

5. I read enough books to fill a small library during my Peace Corps service. I miss that.

6. Music. I loved listening to music that I brought with me but also listening to music from the region. Southern Africa has fantastic music!

7. Passions, the soap opera.  I'll never forget the way my host mother loved watching that show every day at 5:00 on Botswana Television. She didn't even speak English but loved that damn show. I'll admit I got into it. The Timmy doll freaked me out.

8. Elephants in the middle of the road. Ok, that's not really a small thing. It's freakin' awesome, and it never got old.

9. A nice bar of chocolate. Because that's just about the best thing you can bring to a Peace Corps Volunteer living in the middle of nowhere. Thank you, random dude, passing through Shakawe for understanding.

10. The chance to really experience living in a different culture for so long that you start to really get it. I don't think there's anything else like Peace Corps for that experience alone.  Not such a small thing, but totally amazing. And hard. And everything else in between.

Also, did I mention chakalaka?  https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chakalaka

 

To matter

Today I had my annual OB/GYN appointment, the first after giving birth last October. I'm sure you don't want to hear all about Pap smears but there's more to this story, promise.

As I'm sitting in the doctor's office waiting...I start to think about my pregnancy. I haven't been back for a regular check-up since my post-partum appointments. So naturally I'm thinking about peeing in a cup every visit, generally being pregnant, and giving birth. I felt a little excited to see my OB/GYN whom I haven't seen since I was last in her office crying about breastfeeding. I felt an attachment to her, and I allowed myself to feel that due to the vulnerability that I experienced during my childbirth experience. 

So anyway, she comes through the door and asks if her PA student can attend the appointment. Sure, no big deal. She asks me about moving from Washington DC. I am pretty sure we've had this conversation before, but whatever. No big deal. 

After we get through the exam and medical questions, she shakes my hand and says "Nice meeting you," and breezes out the door. And then it hits me like a ton of bricks. My heart flutters a little bit.

She has no idea who I am.

Seriously. 

It caught me by so much surprise that I didn't even say anything in the millisecond before she left the room. This woman helped me push for hours during childbirth. She then cut me open and with her bare hands, pulled out my brand new daughter. She was the first person in the whole wide world to touch my baby girl. She comforted my freaked out husband. She listened as I cried about breastfeeding. She gave me advice about taking care of myself. She checked and rechecked my scar. She hugged me.

So I have to wonder. Was all of that forgettable to her? Am I that forgettable? Because the experience of giving birth in many ways defined me and made me vulnerable in ways I never thought possible. I am not even close to forgetting any of it. It was one of the most important days in my entire life - the birth of my beautiful baby girl. I would never be the same after that experience. And she just forgot about it entirely. 

Now I fully understand that doctors are busy people with a lot of patients. It's been a few months, I can even understand not recognizing me right away. But this must all be in my chart, no? The fact that you personally delivered my child. That I've been coming to your 4-person practice since my 2nd trimester over a year ago. That we've met before, for crying out loud. 

So I'm left with a lot of thoughts after this. I'll just go ahead and say it: my feelings are hurt. I thought that we had a connection as doctor and patient - one that was important to me and apparently didn't exist for my doctor.  I'm sad for our healthcare system. Is this how people are normally treated on a regular basis? As though their stories, their lives don't really matter all that much?  As though we're just patients, not people? Are we all really that busy?

I'm not really sure what to do with this. Apparently I have a deeply-rooted need to matter. I think most people do, and it makes me think that we need to do better. And then it makes me wonder how I can do better in my own life. Am I guilty of the same disengagement? Is there a way to be better at being more present in life, being engaged? Connecting with others?

Insignificance

Yesterday Tom and I had to drive about 4 hours in order to drop off the van we have been borrowing from his parents.  On the way home there was a full moon. A big, bright one. The kind that makes you feel somewhat insignificant when you think about how vast the universe is, and how very small our little piece of the planet is.

Anyway, I've been thinking about what to blog about next, and I had a hard time coming up with something. I wanted it to be funny (or at least attempt) and not all about being a mom (again, attempt), and I had a hard time coming up with something.

So instead I thought I would just write a summary of my insignificant day in my insignificant life in just 10 bullets: 

1) Woke up, drank coffee, fed the baby. Passed her off to Tom (home for summer break!) for the day.
2) Worked.
3) At 5pm, drove two hours to Grayling, MI.
4) Handed every somewhat child-friendly object in the car (including my wallet and water bottles) to Violet in the backseat to make her stop squaking at me.  Not crying, really, more like yelling.  Sang "The Itsy Bitsy Spider" about 20 times at the top of my lungs. Now that's definitely crying.
5) Called Tom (driving in his parents van) to tell him that it probably wasn't smart to go on a 4-hour road trip with a teething infant. Reverted back to singing. It sort of worked.
6) Dropped off Tom's parents van, stopped for a burger, turned around to go home again. Wondered why I ate such a ginormous dinner.
7) Commented on the big, bright full moon. Wondered out loud why Violet wasn't sleeping yet, since it was well past her bedtime.
8) Suddenly smelled Violet's poop. Then let her continue to sleep in the backseat with said poop in her diaper. She was finally sleeping, all right?  Don't judge.
9) Got home at 10pm. Spent 1 hour putting Violet back to sleep as she smiled at me and tried to continually grab my hair, ear, arm, etc. While smiling and laughing, not sleeping. Finally put her to bed.
10) Went to bed.

I guess I'm thinking this would be a better list if something extraordinary had happened. Like we ordered our burgers in our best opera song-voices.  Or we passed a bank robber getting arrested on the way home.  Or Violet suddenly started referring to us as "Amanda" and "Tom" instead of "blaagghhhhghhhh" and "dadadadadadadDADADA".  Or maybe if we had gotten out of the car to look at the moon.  OR SOMETHING. 

Yesterday was a day that I probably would have forgotten about 5 or 10 years from now, since it seems that it's marked with insigificance.  But now, I guess I should be grateful for that.  Maybe the lesson is to find the significance of the small things, in the moments that seem like they don't matter.  Maybe now I will remember yesterday as a day where we remember how lucky we are.  That doesn't seem insignificant to me.  Till next time.