Roads Diverged (or, the blog for the overanxious)


                For the first time in my life I feel that I have to make a decision that actually matters.  A choice that will change the course of my life.  Up until now I have done everything that was expected of me.  Graduated high school, went to university, wonderful jobs fell in front of me, I went abroad to India where I fell into and in love with farming, graduated, then followed my parents’ footsteps right into the Peace Corps.  I enjoyed all of it and it all seemed to make sense.  But now all of that is coming to a close.

                More than three-fourths way through and I feel that I have conquered (or at least come to terms with) language barriers, cultural differences, even Malagasy men.  What else is there really?  I am going to complete my Peace Corps service and the world feels entirely open to me.  This is exciting but also terrifying. 

                If I think of myself in five years I can clearly see myself in two drastically different lives.  The first is one that would continue on the path I am on now.  Extending or finding more work in northern Madagascar which is a place that I’ve grown to enjoy, and surely would enjoy more if I moved into the city.  I could teach at the university full-time and come back to my village when possible to check on my farmers and friends.  This, I believe, would help me towards entering grad school.  It would also push me towards a career in development and teaching, which is work that I enjoy and find meaning within.  Socially, I’ve already made good friends in the city that I feel I can connect with and would likely feel less isolated than I sometimes feel here in the bush. 

                The second path is completely different and perhaps is the one that I’ve somewhat already chosen.  It involves a plane ticket, an old Toyota pick-up, a banjo, a farm-dog (a bottle of whiskey and a shotgun…).  On this road I would slowly make my way to the US in order to arrive for the next farming season.  To participate in an involved apprenticeship that will further my ag skills and my dream of starting my own farm with conjoining market/restaurant.  This is a lifestyle idea that I share with my brother, someone who I dearly wish to be nonspuratically in my life again.  So I could buy the truck, get my loyal companion of a puppy, and move out west to be near him and work towards this goal.  Hopefully grad school would work itself into this plan as well, though I’m not exactly sure if it would be necessary.  I just like studying (whoa nerrddd). 

                I love farming. Though I work with farmers here, I miss the feeling of belonging to a farm and benefitting from the fruits of our labor.  I crave being back in the field every day, driving farm vehicles, making up speed-competitions when weeding, harvesting tomatoes, then being done at five o’clock and being able to just relax.  But being here I also realize how much I love teaching.  I love working with little kids, figuring alternative education into their lives, planning courses that I think will stimulate them.  Since beginning teaching this course at the university, I also feel that it is a population I connect with.  

                My friend Jake told me a couple months back that I should just relax, that it’s just life after all!  I get that and I’m not trying to sound overanxious, but I am rather anxious over this decision.  I feel like it will dramatically alter in one way or another the course of my life.   And really, who do I want to be? 

                All of this lamentation over, I can now admit how absurdly fortunately I am that I have these two opportunities set in front of me.  My best friend in the village, Corine, is stuck in a place where she lacks stimulus and truly does not connect with the lifestyle that she is being pushed into as a woman of a certain age.  But for her the opportunities seem less bright.  Her choices are less.  And so I must appreciate this as a whine about my own confusion.  At least I get the luxury of indecision. 

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