Blackbird, The Beatles

I’m an RPCV. I’ve been an RPCV for 45 days. I have never felt stranger in my life.

I haven’t been back to the United States yet – that will probably change how I feel, although I’m fairly certain I’ll still feel strange without the connection to Peace Corps past the RPCV networks in my area. I left for Belize shortly after my Close of Service for an internship in environmental education. My roommates each told me something separately that shocked me: “You don’t seem like a Peace Corps Volunteer.”

For two years, I saw myself as a Volunteer – nothing else. Being a Peace Corps Volunteer defined me and when I left, when I COS’d, I lost my identity. But what does “seeming like a Volunteer” mean? I decided to ask them. One told me that compared to the Volunteer she lived near, I was much more serious – I took my internship seriously, I worked hard and I focused on my projects. The Volunteer she knew took the two years as a vacation with few projects, few local friends and few of the things that defined my service. Another simply said that I didn’t fit the “type”. He didn’t expand.

So now that I’m not a Volunteer, but also not really a returned Volunteer, I have to think. How exactly did I change in Panama? How has that affected me? What will I carry with me?

In Panama, I was a leader in my community; hard earned, but a leader. Outside of Panama, I’m a sponge. I’m learning about new things, new ideas and new principles. It’s all I can do, until I earn that position of leadership again. In Panama, I was unguarded, open and available at any time. Outside of Panama, I am guarded, but not closed off.

When I moved to Belize, I was followed down the street, a young woman from a local high school beside me, with a young man shouting piropos at me. Panama kicked in and I turned around and shouted at him to stop. The young woman turned to me and said, “Thank you.”

I know I changed in Panama, I know that the Peace Corps changed me – through my friendships, my relationships and my work. What I don’t know still is how that affected me.

I know what I will carry with me. I’ll carry the thank you of the young Belizean woman, the love of my community, one of the last conversations I had with a community member before I left. I will carry with me forever the words of my ten year old best friend from my site, as we returned to my town after a Frisbee camp all the way across the country: “Ana, te voy a extranar demasiado. Eres como mi hermana.” Annie, I’ll miss you so much. You’re like my sister.