I started telling people I was going to go into the Peace Corps when I was about 5 I think. My mother had been in the Peace Corps in Nepal in the late 70's, and I grew up surrounded by that. Our house had brass pots and rugs on the wall, and Nepali food like dahlbaht and poori were common. She also told us stories about her time in the Peace Corps; like when she opened the door to her house and it was full of black widows, or the guy who tried to kidnap marry her. One of my favorites was when she was walking through the woods, sat down to rest, and suddenly noticed that there were giant green and red spiders the size of car tires in the trees around her, and she didn't run, she just thought, "Oh, look at that!" Because of these stories (or perhaps despite them) I was determined to make it into Peace Corps. I applied out of college, and gave myself a snowballs chance in hell of getting in on my first try. Long story short, I got in. Now, those three words, "I got in" don't sound like much, but when I said them, I was screaming them to the rafters! It seems a bit of a blur, but I recall screaming and dancing while trying to calm myself enough to call back the Peace Corps office and tell them what option they were offering me I liked best. (First - South America for Water and Sanitation, Second - Sub-Saharan Africa for AIDS/HIV, Third - Eastern Europe/Central Aisa for Working with Youth) That was more than a week ago, and still everytime I think about it I get butterflies in my stomach. Hopefully this is the start of an amazing adventure! (I'll give more details about the actual application process in following posts.) Fair Winds and Following Seas!
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