Day 754: A bit of nostalgia…

I woke up this morning thinking about how it is going to feel leaving this country. People who have been emailing me have been asking me if I’ll be sad to leave and other PCVs who have already returned have told me that I will miss it. Both groups of people are correct in their thinking. Yes, I will be sad. Yes, I will miss my life here.

I am pretty sure that I will shed at least one (if not two) tear(s) sitting in my taxi full of my personal assets (which amazingly fit within two bags) pulling out of my concession for the last time… in my life. It’ll probably be odd giving my farewells to my mama next door since, more likely than not, I will not see her for a very long time, if ever. Once in Cotonou I will be busy enjoying my last week with some of the friends I made here and finishing all the paperwork/meetings/busywork with the Peace Corps office.

But the one thing I’m pretty sure about is the feeling I have while I’m sitting on the airplane looking out at Benin for the last time. It is gonna feel the same way I felt when I was leaving my last District Convention in Key Club my senior year of high school. I know, high school?!?! Yes, high school. I remember sitting on our charter bus next to my girlfriend at the time, Sandy, looking out at the hotel/convention center as we slowly pulled away.

The feelings of the past two years flooded over me: the hardships, the (small) victories, the missed family events, the dances, the idea that individuals can make a difference. I also realized that I will never again be in this position ever again. That I’ll never have an experience as unique. That it was all over.

The only way I coped with this strange feeling of loneliness and emptiness was to look through all my pictures I had taken in the previous year. All the smiling faces of friends, new acquaintances, and events (volunteer projects and fundraisers) helped to remind me that the journey was well worth the frustrations, difficulties, and even, the ignorance of some people I respected at one point in time. This was just part of growing up. The most difficult part was that on the outside, I was still the same Dennis: seemingly confident, friendly, put together. But in the inside I was different. There were so many instances and particularities that I could never put into words to explain what I had to go through or adequately portray the joys I encountered.

My Peace Corps experience will leave me with a similar feeling. Thankfully, there is a fairly larger group of people who have braved the two years (or more) of service in Benin and countries all around the world. It is no wonder the Peace Corps encourages us to join Returned PCV groups to help in the re-assimilation process.

I hope my friends don’t look at me when we are taking off. If I’m feeling like this now, I can only imagine what’s gonna happen when we are actually leaving. It’ll be a lot like high school…. Acting like I am contemplating the meaning of life as I look out the window to hide my tears.