Technically I suppose I’m not an actual Peace Corps dropout, but I still feel like one. I went through the entire application process. I jumped up and down in my room when I got the call to set up an interview. I sent in the paperwork and suffered through an extra dentist appointment; all motivated by thoughts of the Greater Good. I was jazzed for the adventure, pumped about making the world just a little bit better, and pleased with myself for the opportunity to be a Better Person. But then the interviewer was a complete jackhole, and the process took 8 months longer than I had expected and I was in a completely different life-place. These are the reasons I tell people when explaining why I turned down two years in Armenia (unless said people were actually in the Peace Corps, in which case I don’t mention it at all because I got sick of the judgey looks).
After turning it down, I felt disappointed in myself. And I felt guilty. Guilty for not following through (I follow through to a fault). Guilty for not making a difference. And guilty for saying to that Jackhole that I would prefer not to go to Africa when he specifically asked where I would and would rather not go. “This isn’t a travel agency.” Eff you, buddy.
Now I’ve been twice.
And I might even be a slightly Better Person for it.
This blog is a collection of my memories and journal entries from Ghana.
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