The Rollercoaster

Four days and counting.
(If you are looking for contact information, open my last post)

For the first time in a week, I am feeling pretty mellow about the way-too-large pile of things sitting in my parents living room, all of which I want to take to Malawi but which of course cannot all fit. All the conflicting packing lists, the ton of shopping over the past few months, and the stress of moving all have come down to this, and I have to be at peace with it, because whether everything fits in that duffel bag or not, I'm getting on a plane on Thursday.

Last week after a wonderful visit with a friend in Boise and her new baby, I brought home the baby's cold and was in a mucousy fog for a few days. Going to the mall and walking around, looking at all the new fashions that will already be passe by the time I get back is made all the more distant, like an anthropological visit, with extra strength cold medicine on board.
When I could think straight enough again to start packing for real, I knew I was in trouble when I had hit the weight limit and only half of the things I wanted to bring were crammed in my bags. "Be Brutal" has been my mantra lately. Be Brutal with giving things away, don't hold onto things you don't need. It seems my brutality toward my things needs to be cranked up several more notches.
What if I can't fit my yarn and can't buy it there? Will I go crazy from not knitting? How can I survive with only one (insert object here) when I have ten of them that I love so much?? I noticed that all of these thoughts were about ME. And I remembered that, while I need some objects of comfort in Malawi, it really isn't about comforting ME. That isn't why I applied to the Peace Corps. For as much as I aspire to not be defined by my STUFF, my baubles, this is a chance to actually make it happen. So it isn't a sacrifice as much as a challenge.
So then when I was pondering this I tripped and spilled out all the contents of my purse and just burst into tears. Real, snotty gross tears. And it was ok. I had to go to a dinner party, and showed up still crying and no one cared. There was a champagne toast to my new adventure, and lots of laughter and prayer and showing pictures, and I knew that I could be myself, on this rollercoaster of emotion, and still be normal.
A few days ago, I was reading in our facebook group for the Malawi team, and one of the current PCV's in Malawi wrote a really touching note that said though it is sad for us to leave home, we are not just leaving a family here, we are gaining a big, crazy, lovely family in Malawi, who are preparing today for our arrival and will welcome us with lots of hugs, and who probably wont care if I start crying again (which I probably will at some point). So I am going from loving family to loving family, and just taking whatever will fit in that duffel bag with me, and I am ok with that today. :-)


Grace and Peace,
Elizabeth