Saturday, April 21, 2007

kiss kiss bang fade

I'm leaving for Malawi on Monday. Amsterdam, Nairobi, Lilongwe. Bus: Blantyre.

As predicted, nothing I feel is to be deemed trustworthy at this point. I always feel crappy before leaving somewhere to go anywhere. It's guaranteed. Insecure, sad, doubtful. I'm just a little older now than I used to be, so it's not quite so extreme. Still, I wonder if other people are this weird about leaving.

The idea is to be in Malawi for about 9 months, helping to sort of lay some groundwork for an orphanage to be built. It's with this small organization that's just getting started. The head of it all, Tracy, is from Twin Falls, and that's how we met. Teaching George (the point man, a Malawian dude with apparently some communication issues) more about good leadership and effective communication (or sumthin). That's my primary duty. But my ideal is to go and just improvise other ways to be helpful around the town/village too, and take it easy while getting to know some of the locals.

I've got me some really friggin' great equipment. A hanging bag water filter. Bitchin' messenger bag. Malaria pills. Crazy herbs to help fight off diseases. A Thermarest.

I feel so parched and old when I think about starting out for Bangladesh with Peace Corps over a year and a half ago. So much has gone oddly, badly, and also goodly since then. Sometimes when I read about Bangladesh in the news, I feel like a traitor that I still haven't returned, and don't yet have any plans to do so. I wonder if anything is ever going to pan out for more than 6-10 months at a time. I wonder if, once something does make sense for longer than a school year's time, I'll be ready and won't feel like bolting. I sure want to be ready. Whenever I leave something to go on to the next thing, there is an irresistible temptation to think of everything that I'm leaving as the only thing worthwhile and: STUPID!!! Why are you leaving all of this!? Even when, mere weeks ago, I was thinking almost the opposite: Man, I hate this place. I need a new apartment/city/career/mindset/blender/job/life. So which side of the dichotomy is real? The one that's always reaching, stretching, ditching things, and attempting to be brave 'n stuff? Or the one that's committed, calm, maybe a little cowed and maybe a little bored? Bah. Almost done with my twenties. 3 more years and maybe I'm done with this crap.

Lest I sound ungrateful, I am about to go do something that I really want to do. I'm going out with little to no safety net, I'll have to have to make it up as I go, I'm going to experience another culture, pushing generally in the direction of doing good, and I can actually afford to do it. (Well, that's a lie, actually, but other people have enough money to front me.) I should stop whining.

Might have e-mail access, might not. Might update this thing once a week, might update it once a month, or even less.

Weirdly, I'm not scared. I've been scared every time I've left the country for one reason or another. And this time, not. Huh.

More to come.