Two years . . .

staging

Sept 6, 2012: Staging in DC.

Page number one – the beginning. Certainly not the end, as I keep reminding various friends and family who cannot help their morbid, knee-jerk rhetoric. “It’s only two years,” I remind them. “I’ll be back – I’ll just be far away for a little while.”

One thing (of many) that’s been really interesting about making such a big life decision has been the range of reactions I’ve received.  In particular there exists two distinct schools of thought on the duration of time defined by two years: eternity, or a blink of an eye. I decidedly believe it will be both. Why? Because, yes, a lot of things that feel time-intense certainly can happen and change in two years’ time. I mean – my masters’ degree program is only two years long; in that time a woman can get pregnant and have a small child; two people can fall in (and out) of love; some buildings will be torn down and some built anew; an entirely new congress could be elected. But two years is also short relative to a lifetime.  If I’m to expect a (hopefully conservative) 75 year life span, 2 years is only 2.6% of the whole.  Four years each of high school and college certainly flew by, and the years after have flown even faster.

Therefore my apprehension for my return is: a whole lot of little (and some big) things about the people and places I now know will have changed, but I’m also rather certain a whole lot about them will remain the same. Put another way: while a lot happens in two years, two years’  time also flies by – meaning things will change, but I’ll be back before you know it!

But – to bring this conversation back to where it started – I guess peoples’ knee-jerk reaction calling this “the end” of something is also fairly true. It is the end of pre-service Amanda. So yes, Peace Corps will inevitably change me. My hope: for the better.