Whew! After 11 weeks of training, my time as a "trainee" is at an end.
On September 16th, 2011, I officially swore in as an official, bona fide Peace Corp Volunteer (officially). I can honestly say that this is the first time I've ever been excited to work my way up to a position where I didn't receive a paycheck and, despite a 40 hour work week, was refereed to as a "volunteer". Still worth it, I think.
For those interested (i.e. relatives who are contractually obligated to care), a recording of the swearing-in ceremony can be found below:
Pictured: my training cluster (minus one) and I dressed to the nines. Not-pictured: my last minute panicked search for help when I realized I didn't know how to tie a tie.
On September 16th, 2011, I officially swore in as an official, bona fide Peace Corp Volunteer (officially). I can honestly say that this is the first time I've ever been excited to work my way up to a position where I didn't receive a paycheck and, despite a 40 hour work week, was refereed to as a "volunteer". Still worth it, I think.
For those interested (i.e. relatives who are contractually obligated to care), a recording of the swearing-in ceremony can be found below:
And much like the movie "Fight Club" if you look closely you'll see scantily clad figures spliced in throughout the ceremony.
From culture shock to learning a new language to working on the weekends (sacrilege!) training was quite the ordeal. But as my TCF (Technical and Cultural Facilitator) liked to say, "Which is more cruel? Boot camp, or sending troops into battle unprepared?"
Wise words, though I had hoped the "Peace Corps" wouldn't involve any cruelty at all.
Pictured above my TCF, looking unusually godlike.
Still I have to admit, despite my constant complaining, thanks to my TCF and LCF (Language and Cultural Facilitator) I feel ready to live in a foreign country for the next two years. And when I look back on training, I realize that I've accomplished a lot:
I've learned to carry an umbrella at all times (because typhoons are sneaky).
My LCF and I warding off invisible raindrops.
I've hiked through the bamboo jungle of Pamulaklakin, quenching my thirst with nothing save the water from tree vines and my water bottle.
Hydration tip: swallowing a stick will distract you from the fact that you are painfully dehydrated.
I've witnessed (and in some cases climbed up inside of) landmarks dedicated to the shared history of the United States and the Philippines, including the WWII memorial cross at the top of Mount Samat in Bataan.
Although, the lack of a 50-story Jesus was disappointing.
I've even studied anatomy in the national language of the Philippines, Tagalog.
Now, if only we could get her to take the labels off...
I've seen deprived Peace Corps Volunteers tear apart a pizza the size of a small family like cheese-starved jackals.
My apologies to Julie and Catherine, both of whom are unfairly depicted here as cheese-starved jackals.
And most amazingly of all, I've danced the traditional Filipino bamboo dance, Tinikling, on-stage in front of more than a thousand people. To this day, I'm still not sure what happened to make me do this. But I'm glad I did.
If dancing on stage doesn't show a readiness to meet all the challenges of Peace Corps service, I don't know what does.
So, with all this training under my belt (which has a few new notches thanks to the healthy, vegan, Filipino Cuisine I've been eating), I'm ready to head off to my permanent site. And though I have a bitter-sweet goodbye to say to all the other trainees (now volunteers) that have made training a blast, right now I feel like celebrating!
So, until next month...
Palaam!
