be your own palace
or the world is your jail

I've had yet another change- a new host family. Although not as dramatic as changing sites, joining a new family can be anxiety-inducing. Host family living is, without a doubt, one of the hardest aspects of Peace Corps service, specifically in a country like Belize where volunteers are required to live with host families for the entire 27 months of service. Every community has its challenges but generally, there are workable things: resources, motivated work partners, something good to focus on (although out of all people, I know that some challenges can be just too much for one PCV to bear. I’m the exception to the rule, of course). But the host family is a make or break part of your experience. A home should be a place where you decompress and relax; the life of a PCV is stressful enough, and having to live with an incompatible family can just amplify the stress and leave you feeling trapped. 

There have been multiple host family changes in my group because there’s no way to predict how a host family and volunteer relationship will be, no matter how intensive the screening or how many interviews are conducted. I've seen the physical signs of stress in my friends because of these negative experiences; I've heard the stress in their voices as they recount the latest issue that has come up. I don’t think I can overstate how incredibly important a positive host family experience is. There is no such thing as a perfect family, and of course there will be issues that come up and the inevitable awkward situations, but the standard day-to-day living should be easy, smooth, and even enjoyable. I’m lucky to still be in contact with my training family and my host family from my first site, and I have plans to visit them again soon. And though I switched homes in this new village, I still have a friendly relationship with my old host mom. Yet again, those unknowable “factors beyond my control” led to this move. Peace Corps is all about the factors beyond my control. At this point, the only thing I can control is my reaction to those factors.

And I really appreciate that my new host family is warm and welcoming. There are no children in the house, which at first was strange for me because all of my host families in Belize have had children. It’s funny because as an adult, I have only ever lived with adults in the States, but being surrounded by children was my new norm here. My experience informed my belief that children can help you integrate into a community more easily. While I still think this is extremely true when you are first starting out, now that I have been in my community for almost three months and have been in the school on a regular basis, I feel like the kids pretty much know me and many villagers know me by sight. The earliest, hardest part of integration is over, and now I can focus on strengthening connections with adults. What better way than to be in a house with adults who know most of the people in the village? Also, while children can be a great help in learning the language, my background in Spanish means that speaking with adults would be more beneficial for me to learn the local nuances of the dialect.

Plus, there’s the whole balcony situation:

But it’s not all scenic views and breezy relaxation. It’s frustrating having to do the getting to know you dance for the 4^th time now, and having to explain my work, schedule, interests, and food preferences yet again while learning the same about a new family. I feel a bit disconnected by yet another move, almost like I’m anticipating something else that will disrupt my service. I’m trying to avoid becoming jaded by these experiences, though. My new host family actually seems like a better fit, solidifying my belief that everything happens for a reason. I still feel an overwhelming sense of gratitude when I think about how I was sent to serve in this beautiful country that has so much to offer, and I don't see that feeling subsiding anytime soon. 

Also, that balcony.

As I mentioned earlier, during Reconnect, I also found out that due to circumstances beyond my control, I would be moved to a new site. I understand why the decision was made, and I appreciated PC staff including me as a part of the entire process. Taking in the news was hard, to say the least.

Telling my host family I would be leaving was one of the most emotionally trying experiences of my life. I always thought, I have two years here, we have plenty of time to do everything. But then suddenly those two years weren't going to happen there. I second-guessed all of the things I did with the time that had already passed, and if I could have done more. More river trips, more baking banana bread, more conversations about our childhoods with my host mom, more dancing and karate fights and silliness. Our meals together, our evenings watching tv or doing homework, the little moments that I so cherish, were over. My host mom referred to me as her oldest daughter, and she and my host siblings cried that day. I did too, the entire drive back to town. 

I felt terrible too, thinking about the many missed opportunities in the village. All I could think of were the things I had planned for the future, the things I thought would come with time. The clinic days, sessions at school, the grand plans my community health worker and I had made to improve health and promote involvement within the village. My community was challenging, and maybe I wouldn't have accomplished much in my village, but now I wouldn't even get the chance to try. I had gotten through the first three months: the difficulties that come with living with a new host family, learning how to work effectively with work partners, building an understanding of my new village's needs and challenges. And there were a lot, to be honest. But I had begun to think of them as my issues to tackle...it had become my new home. People in the village were used to foreigners coming in for several days or weeks and then leaving, never to return again. I had worked hard to let people know I was there to stay but then...I wasn't. It was a difficult realization for me to process, that I would be grouped in with those other groups, when I had promised everyone I wouldn't be like that. 

Then, I began to think about the new site. I had no idea where I would be sent, but I knew I wanted to stay in the same district. Thankfully, PC staff worked closely with me to accommodate my wants and needs as much as they could. But I had so much anxiety about starting over. I had just had my three months of village group meetings to present myself, introductions (occasionally awkward) to every villager I encountered, and attending all kinds of social events to establish myself as a resident in my village. Now, I would have to start the process all over again, and be almost four months behind the other volunteers. It's been frustrating to think about, but I like to repeat the ever-important phrases of Peace Corps:

Take one day at a time

Stay positive 

Cliched but hey, they're oft-repeated for a reason!

After almost a month to the day of being in limbo, I finally received confirmation of my new site. My new village is at the other end of my district, near my favorite town, San Ignacio. It is much larger and more condensed than my old village, which brings with it both pros and cons. The school principal and community health worker are very eager work partners, which is encouraging. I have four new host brothers, all of whom are affectionate and super sweet. It's still early for me, but I'm looking forward to seeing what I can do here. I'll have another entry in the near future talking about my first impressions for my second village. Time to do it (everything) again! 

Reconnect 

December turned out to be a whirlwind month. I was coming off of a period of integration in my village, which was full of challenges and successes, and looking forward to Reconnect, our first in-service training as PCVs. I was full of questions and eager to spend time with all of my fellow volunteers, some of whom I hadn't seen since our September swearing-in. 

Our week-long training was intense and tiring, with some classic PC emotional reflection time. I definitely had some teary moments, and you'll read about why soon. But the limited time I got with my cohort was so worth it. Reconnect was also a nice break to refocus and renew energy for our work ahead, although I wouldn't be getting back to a site for awhile...

Caye Caulker: first Belizean vacation

Right after Reconnect, I went to Caye Caulker with some of my closest PCVs. Caye Caulker is chill, low-key, and beautiful- a perfect way to unwind after the fast pace and emotional intensity of our training. We enjoyed fresh seafood, frozen drinks, and some reggae. We also got to snorkel the Belize Barrier Reef, which I highly recommend. I need to get scuba certified for some Blue Hole diving! 

Future: Site Change

I want to make this its own post, but I will mention that during Reconnect, I was told that I would be undergoing a site change. There was a safety issue with my site, and Peace Corps decided that it would be best for me to be moved. I understand and agree with the decision, but that didn't make it any easier to leave...another reason I was very thankful for my Caye Caulker trip! It was definitely needed after everything I experienced.

To end on a good note: Pictures!