From Orange County to Orange Walk

all the trainees that would be stationed up north hopped into the signature peacecorpsbelize white LandCruisers and we began our caravan. one by one, we were greeted by our new families and dropped off at our new homes; i would share a host family with the other trainee stationed in Orange Walk Town.

within less than an hour with our new family, Nikki and i were shucking corn for the tamalitos we would have for supper tonight. while i've never shucked corn, i felt right at home. but such piles of corn! extended family members came and went, taking bags of corn off our hands as we ripped husks off; two of my fingers were stained brown by the time the mountain of corn had dwindled to husks and throw-aways.
tonight our host parents took us on a town tour in the family pick-up. my eyes were burning, and i realized i wasn't blinking. so much to take in- huge elaborate homes next to leaning wooden shelthers; mothers with arms full of children; young couples holding hands; boys hopping off a horse, riding bikes, bouncing on tree branches; lone people talking to no one and looking furious; SO many shops. This place looks huge compared to the villages where we had dropped off the other trainees.
and then i see Nikki, sitting across from me in the back section of the truck cab, and i'm wondering what this young girl from Salt Lake City is thinking.

the house is large, nice, and fully equipped, including american cable. this experience will be nothing like that of the trainees in the villages. we will have our own rooms and share a bathroom.
putting my things in my room, i am bathed in blue. blue walls, blue bedspread, and blue curtains that shed a blue light on everything. the room was glowing blue from its doorway when i first saw it. everything is lovely.

but i lay in my blue bed and suddenly i'm blue. it's 4am. my thoughts are running, my stomach dizzy. i'm sick of being sick and i'm exhausted and overwhelmed by so many changes. i want to scream, pull my hair, pack up and go. i am so far from home. but just having that option makes me feel spoiled, selfish, small. and i think about all the people who are in positions where they want to just call it quits yet don't have that option. don't have anywhere to run off to. nowhere to escape to.
so for now i can stay one more day. i'm hoping i won't be thinking in those terms for too long.
up again at 5:30am and thoughts all over the map. at this point, another half hour of sleep sounds brilliant , but impossible.
i finish HighFidelity; it's one of those books that's hard to put down. Nick Hornby has somehow climbed into my head and figured out a way to put some of my thoughts onto these pages in the form of beautifully witty paragraphs. it'll be hard to part with it-pass it on or put it on one of the peacecorps office library bookshelves.
the bug bites are numerous and more burning and obnoxious than ever. i wonder if these tiny ants that i keep finding bite.
5:45am. 15 minutes until the alarm sounds, and i just want to disappear.

but there's a happy ending. the next day i meet with some amazing new colleagues, and we share ceviche for lunch. all of them are informative and hilarious. my village school is surrounded by green peace and quiet.
and suddenly everything feels right. the peacecorps life has thus far been an emotional rollercoaster. but my new life here is slowly forming, and so far i'm still feeling pretty lucky about it all.