To start off with, I'm home... surprise! The Yachana Gap Year is officially closed, and all of us volunteers, and all of the students at the high school have returned home. The reasons and dirty details behind the closing of the Gap Year, are not things I feel comfortable posting in a public blog, but if you really are interested, I would be happy to fill you in.
Things happened fast. One Thursday morning, the volunteers had a meeting with Douglas where we were informed with the bad news that everything was coming to an end, we had a meeting with the kids that afternoon, and were out for good the next morning at 8.
Leaving Yachana was difficult. Our farewell was abrupt and rushed. During the last jornada, which lasted only a week, many of the students had not yet returned to the high school. So there was not the chance for formal goodbyes with everyone. The mood was low. It was confusing and very emotional. While we were unsure during that last week of what was going to happen, no one could have foreseen how bad it would feel when we found out we would be leaving early.
Transitioning back to life at home has been interesting and challenging. At first it was exciting. My family was here, and my dog, and my house, just the way I'd left it. It was great to have a closet full of "new" clothes. At least clothes not stained with bleach and eaten through by cockroaches. I found it hard to start throwing my toilet paper in the toilet again instead of into the trash can (TMI?). I felt overwhelmed by the food options available to me, not only at the grocery store, but also in my own kitchen. It's been great to cook for myself, and drink good wine, and IPA. It's all so familiar, and so new at the same time. It's really an odd feeling.
There were things I started to miss, like aji peppers, passionfruit juice, fried plantains, the sound of the oropendulas with their water drop call, Prince Royce singing bachata on the cell phones of our kids. Most of all, I think, right away I missed my little family of Yachana volunteers. Ryan, Chris, Stephanie and Megan were my family for 8 months. We spend every day together. We travelled at lot. We laughed a lot. We were frustrated a lot. And we got to know each other... a lot. Ryan once put it really well that no matter where he goes and what he does, no matter how much he loves what he is doing and who he is with, he will never again experience the kind of relationship that the 5 and then 4 of us had. It was a unique situation that can never be replicated. I loved working with my team.
So now, out of the jungle. No more machetes, no more bug bites, no more 90% humidity and blazing equator sun. But also: no more jungle monkey kids; no more monkey; no more waking up to a blank page of a day upon which anything could possibly be written, or painted, seen or experienced; no more canoe rides down river - or better yet - up river (it takes longer); no more caiman hiding out in our kitchen; no more showering below the giant breadfruit trees; no more late night high school dances to reggaeton in the volleyball field under the luminous stars; no more walks on rainforest paths, finding brilliantly colored dart and tree frogs, poisonous snakes, bird eating spiders, and who knows what other terrifying creatures; so many other "no mores." All of these are things I don't want to forget. I don't think I'll forget, but I'm afraid I might forget. Past experiences tend to fade like an old polaroid picture. They start to become like storybook tales. Did that really happen?
While my time in the jungle ended earlier than expected, it was an incredible experience and opportunity that I feel so lucky to have had. I met wonderful, inspiring people who filled me with energy and awe. I hope to meet them again someday. But for now it's adios to the beautiful rainforest. I hope to explore more someday. Now it's off to the bees!
PS: I just want to send a special shout out to Mike Zuckerberg, creator of Facebook. Congratulations, you have reached the farthest reaches of the world: The Amazon rainforest. And my life would be far more glum without your phenomenal genius. Now I can talk with my students, who think that Facebook is the equivalent to the internet. You have truly left your mark.
