Sunsets and Sing-a-longs

My feet were fast on the pedals, carrying me into the road.  My fellow Peace Corps volunteers rode their new bikes in circles around the school, down the road, ringing their bells like laughter.  The earth had spun to that perfect moment when the sun bathed everything in a warm yellow.  The colorful oriental buildings came alive in early shadows, lending a sense of life to these otherwise unresponsive buildings. Reveling in the cozy colors, I drove my bike along the road where small children had dashed from their homes to see the silly Americans riding bikes with helmets.  “What is your name?” a little girl called to me.  “Di-chan chuu Amy ka!” I cried back with a smile.  It was incredible to think we had not been in Thailand for even 24 hours yet. 

Just a few days before I had spent my last evening drinking IPA and eating Italian food with my mom – the perfect farewell to American life.  We woke early the next morning to quick lattes and loaded my suitcases.  At the airport it was too hard to say goodbye so we strung it along with more steamed soy and teary eyes.  Finally, I stood in the security line alone, looking around like a lost child, with the crashing comprehension that my childhood was a thing of the receding past. 

Upon arriving to Philadelphia for staging I was greeted by the immense comfort of the quickly arriving 65 other volunteers.  The plethora of accents was a testament to just how varied a group of Americans can be. Varied and simply wonderful-I adore the people I will be going through this experience with and could not be more excited to have them along for the ride. 

The days are so full they feel like weeks.  I have one week behind me, but it feels more like a month.  The week began with a watercolor sunset on a bicycle and ended with sing-a-long 1990’s songs on the terrace.  It is the quintessential Peace Corps experience and I am loving every second of it.  While friends strummed their guitars, fireworks erupted from across the river.  Whether it was with the wind in my hair or the light in sky, I felt something I had not felt in years.  It felt something like home.