“Children learn to smile from their parents.”
Lots of news today. First, my daily weather report: it’s an absolutely gorgeous day, a perfect 74°. My morning on the deck was idyllic with the birds flying in and out, the fountain burbling, and the tenants from hell gone somewhere else. They were shouting to each other early this morning, their usual conversational voice level, but I suspect they went to the beach because, with high hopes and my fingers crossed, I’m thinking today is their last day and tomorrow they depart. Second news: the paint eating spawn of Satan is back. I haven’t been spending as much time on the deck as usual because of the noise and Wednesday I was busy all day so it was yesterday when I noticed the new gnaw marks. A couple of marks are over the old ones and a couple are new marks on the arm of a chair. It’s back to turning the chairs against the table every night. I had hoped that the spawn’s peculiar diet had done him him. This is, after all, the third summer, of gnawing, but I think he has developed an immunity or turned into a B-scifi monster like The Incredible Shrinking Woman or The Colossus. I best be armed if we meet. Third news: I have begun the countdown. Two weeks from tomorrow I leave. When I booked my flight in April, I was counting in months. Hard to believe my trip is so close.
I know that I often subject you to my memories of Ghana, but it plays a huge role in my life and talking about it keeps the experience vivid. Today is something new: the story of how I got there. I never told my parents when I applied in October of my senior year. My dad had made comments when he saw Peace Corps commercials on TV. He couldn’t understand paying all that money for college then getting no money to work somewhere foreign, alien, for two years. In January I received my acceptance, and I called my mother and asked her to tell my father. I knew he’d be angry, and I didn’t want to hear it. She hedged but finally agreed. I called a couple of days later, and my father said I couldn’t go. I just laughed. I was 21 in my last semester of college and I couldn’t imagine he believed that would work. Next he said no more money; the well is dry. I said fine as he’d already paid my tuition, and I could get a part time job for the rest. Then he yelled and yelled and yelled. I hung up on him. The worst thing was I had agreed to go home for the next weekend to mind my sisters while my parents stayed overnight for a family function off cape. I asked my friend Lenny to go with me. He asked if I was using him. I most certainly was. We went down on the bus, my dad picked us up and didn’t speak to me. He talked to Lenny the whole time then they left the next morning, and we still hadn’t spoken.
It took a few months before my dad accepted my decision. He didn’t wholeheartedly support me until much later, but he started talking to me and hoped I knew what I was getting into. I had no idea.
My parents drove me to Logan on the Sunday in June I was to report to staging. Peace Corps had sent a bus ticket to Philadelphia, but my dad bought me a plane ticket instead. The ride to the airport was difficult because we were all so caught up in our feelings. They were afraid for me and hated having me go so far away. I was nervous and scared both of leaving and arriving. They parked the car and we walked to the gate together, my dad carrying my 80 pounds of luggage. Before I finally boarded, we hugged so long my back hurt.
They told me later neither one of them spoke as they watched my plane disappear from sight.
Explore posts in the same categories: MusingsTags: fears, leaving home, parents, Peace Corps staging, spawns of Satan
Both comments and pings are currently closed.
keepthecoffeecoming.blog 
August 12, 2011 at 12:21 pm
This is one of those stories that makes me appreciate how hard it must be sometimes to be a parent.
August 12, 2011 at 6:57 pm
sprite,
I was so excited to go I didn’t think how my parents were affected until the night before I was leaving, and I called to say good-bye. My mother started to cry, so not my mother. It all started, she said, when she folded the sweatshirt I had left on the bed, and she realized she wouldn’t be doing that any more. We both cried through that last phone call before Ghana.
August 12, 2011 at 1:19 pm
I do like that memory! But then I like all Your memories 🙂 I wonder how my mother would have reacted if we had had something similar. At first she probably would have thought it was a great idea just to turn the closer I would get to travel away 🙂 🙂 🙂 She would most probably talk about plane crashes, diseases and robbers all the way to the airport 🙂 🙂 🙂
42F here this morning so I was glad I did have that fire in the stove yesterday even if my home still, smells like a forest fire 🙂 So today I´m prepared, I bought fire-logs on my way home and now the heat from the stove spreads all over my little cottage 🙂
Have a great day!
Christer.
August 12, 2011 at 7:16 pm
Thanks, Christer
My parents chatted about small stuff all the way to the airport. My two sisters didn’t even want to go with us, so much for their missing me. One of them said my leaving that meant they’d get more presents for Christmas.
Tonight is still 74°, been about the same all day.
August 12, 2011 at 3:34 pm
Hi Kat,
You were a very strong young woman to go ahead with your plan in spite of knowing that your dad was going to be so upset about it that he wouldn’t speak to you.
It was easier for me. I knew my father would explode loudly and argue with me fiercely for a bit then it would be all over and he would be defending my decision to all who questioned it.
Two more weeks! Anticipation!
August 12, 2011 at 7:18 pm
Hi Caryn,
I don’t know if it was strength or the fearlessness of the young.
My dad didn’t disappoint-he was ripping, but he did come to accept and even support my going. That couldn’t have been easy for him.
August 12, 2011 at 5:40 pm
It’s an honor and that spirit of adventure finally gets stroked. My daughter was so impressed with Hillary Clinton’s speech on behalf of the Peace Corps at DePaul’s when Hillary was First Lady that she applied that day and got her letter of acceptance June 30th, two months after graduation and not knowing whether to go for her Masters or wait on the Peace Corps. Finally she got her assignment to Zimbabwe and 30 days to find everything she needed and report to the State Dept in DC for orientation. She spent a month in Harare before getting her school teaching assignment way down in Chivona. But it stands out in her mind too as the most productive thing she’s done in her short life. I guess having the baby now may have changed the order of things. I can’t wait to read how things go for you in Ghana.
August 12, 2011 at 7:26 pm
Z&Me,
I have always been thankful for that spirit of adventure. It seemed to have skipped other members of my family, and I have long wished for a companion to jump on the carpet with me.
When I was a junior, in the spring of that year, a recruiter came on campus. I took the language test and an application. In October of my senior year I thought long and hard about it and decided it was definitely what I wanted. I also got a job offer and was accepted into law school which I deferred because it was Peace Corps I wanted more than anything. After spending two years teaching, I no longer wanted to be a lawyer.
I’ll post a couple of times from Ghana!
August 12, 2011 at 6:37 pm
You and all the other Peace Corps volunteers did more to enhance US foreign policy than anything else until the fall of Communism.
August 12, 2011 at 7:26 pm
Thank you, Bob, that means a lot to me!
August 13, 2011 at 8:47 am
this is a wonderful post Kat. I can feel your determination and enthusiasm through your words. as a child born in the last year of the baby boom, it was quite a different world for me in the early eighties. i often thought about joining Vista and traveling the USA, but fate had other plans and only now am i free to travel a bit. Knowing people like you and Ralph and all the friends here on coffee makes me realize what an incredible time we live in and that we must give you all so much credit for making many parts of our world wonderful. It is always a delight to stop in and hear the stories and catch up with you all. As the mother of 3 daughters i have learned that more often than not it is the quiet support that one gives that means more than anything. xoxoxoxoxoxoxo
August 13, 2011 at 10:43 pm
splendid,
Thank you!
I figured that it was the perfect time for me to give something back. It was the least I could do for all that life had given me. Little did I know how much I would receive in return.
It is a wonderful world, and I met wonderful people in the Ghanaians. They were open and warm and so friendly. Knowing them was a gift.