A Consideration of Airplaines

     During PST I remember standing outside a friend’s house, my hand on the door handle, but not opening the door.  I was staring at the sky, completely enraptured.  I was watching the stars in a cloudless sky wink and glimmer, the moon cast light onto a white and blue plastered wall, and filtered down through an overarching arbor of grape leaves.  But was really caught my eye was a set of evenly spaced blinking lights in the sky, heading south-east at a leisurely pace; an airplane.  In Missoula, I lived next to an airport and saw planes landing every day, usually flying fairly low over the house.  There really wasn't any magic or mystery to them; they were simply bringing people or materials to Middle-of-Nowhere, Montana, and  I never really felt intrigued by them; perhaps because they were so frequent and represented nothing more than more than returning to a place I felt little love for. 

                                                                                      Credit: Raven                         

     But here, in Azerbaijan, in what many people still refer to as, ‘The Orient’,  I could tell that the plane now flying over me was headed out over the Caspian, bound toward the South Seas, and someplace infinitely more exotic sounding than, “Sumgayit”; which was the location of the small, beautiful, though less exotic  yard in which I stood.  It was also only the second plane I had seen since arriving in this lesser-known part of the world to become a Peace Corps volunteer.  And now, looking up at the plane making its smooth track across the star fields, I wanted nothing more than to be in it, heading towards some unknown destination, and away from the terrifying task that lay ahead of me.  In that way, the blinking lights in the sky captured me and my mind absolutely.  Airplanes seemed a much more mysterious phenomenon than a simple means of transportation.  They represented escape, the thrill of the unknown, and the possibility of new and different people and places.

     I look back on that moment, now with some experience in the village that had so terrified me, and see it in a new light.  In representing escape, it also represented a release of responsibility; specifically, the responsibility of teaching children (and adults) English in my village for two years, the responsibilities of coming up with activities and helping implement programs in my site, as well as representing America, Peace Corps, and myself to the general populace   That weight still drags me down, and I still struggle to deal with the expectations that go along with the acceptance of those obligations.  But at the same time, I understand that you can't run from what scares you forever.  You have to eventually face those fears and move forward with your life; essentially, you have to grow up and accept the duties of adulthood.  At this point, i'm just moving myself forward through sheer willpower, focusing on the day-to-day minutiae that helps me keep putting one foot in front of the other.  I am still scared, and still need small escapes to keep myself from turning and running, but slowly, i'm building up confidence in both myself and my abilities.  And the next time I get on a plane, it won't be to escape from something that scares me, put to head off towards something that does.  In that way, I will keep moving forward in my life; and in that way I will go the only way worth going in life.  Up.

                                                                              Credit: Ajay Talwar