Scott and I concluded our stay in Cape Verde and returned to the US on Jan. 23rd. I can´t believe that an entire month has already come and gone. We´ve been keeping ourselves a bit sheltered, hunkered down in the homes of friends who have, oh-so-graciously, boarded us and supported us in our slow readjustment to American living. For now, we´re floating along without a permanent address or permanent employment, dealing with service-related health issues, and taking life a day at a time. It´s a strange place to be, be we´re continually reminded to be grateful for the freedom that we´re enjoying. Along with the lack of security blankets, like a home or job, comes a lack of obligations.
I haven´t written about leaving Cape Verde until now because I haven´t been able to find the words or keep from crying when I try to reflect on our final days there. The 2 ½ years spent with our tiny community in Santo Antão was life changing, and among many other lessons, it taught me about human goodness, giving me the sense that the people of this world, no matter how very very different they may seem to be, have much in common and with a little effort can come to love one another deeply, as equals. Scott and I came to not only dutifully love our neighbors, but to profoundly like them as well. If we had any hesitation regarding their returned affections, it was put to rest on the day of our final departure from town.
We began our last day in Água das Caldeiras by cleaning up the aftermath of our going away bash and handling last minute chores. We had coffee several times as we made our way from house to house delivering hand-me-down items and exchanging tearful hugs. Some of the young women from the girl´s cooking group provided a much-needed distraction as they boisterously organized my luggage and tidied the house. Scott watched over a neighbor´s toddler, happy for the excuse to hold him a while longer.
The car going to the ferry boat always passed around 2:30, so shortly after 2 we carried our backpacks to the street and sat down to begin waiting. A few children gathered round to braid my hair and cuddle on Scott´s lap. Moments later our friend Eliza came slowly down the street with her 3 little ones and sat closely by my side. The girl´s group members arrived and leaned against a wall across from me, their arms entwined around each others´ waists. Without prior arrangement, our friends and neighbors emerged one by one from their houses and joined us along the edge of the street. By the time the car arrived to carry us away, there were more than 50 people gathered, most of them, like me, sobbing. Scott and I had never imagined we´d be sent off by such a crowd or such a beautiful display of friendship and respect. The blessings and words of thanks and love tearfully whispered in my ears were an honor superior to any I´ve ever known. My heart overflows just thinking about it.
When I reflect on my time as a Peace Corps Volunteer, I´m overwhelmed with a sense of gratitude for the kindness and patience shown to me. It´s ironic that I thought of myself as going to serve a needy community, when it turned out to be me, more often than not, that was on the receiving end of generous and selfless deeds.
After living in a whole different world for two years and looking at life from a different angle, it´s hard to simply return to “normal,” as if we were coming back to America unchanged. Where do we go from here? Just figuring that out, it seems, is the next adventure.
