Reconnect

Three months after being at site, everyone in the training class gets back together for an in-service training conference called Reconnect. Four days of catching up, trading pictures, hanging out and jumping through the beautiful waves of Pacasmayo, a small beach town along Peru's desert coast.

I know; we have it rough.

But the week went great. It was great to see what everyone has been up to since we swore to serve and defend the constitution and scattered to the far reaches of Peru.

We all had to present on our first three months at site: the results of our diagnostic and potential project ideas. We each had 10 minutes, and I have to say, after it was all over, I felt a little ... well ... overwhelmed.

During each presentation, I filled pages in my tiny notebook with to-do lists and good ideas to bring back to site — of things I'd forgotten I wanted to do or hadn't even thought about. It energized and exhausted me all at the same time. And above my head hung this huge, daunting question challenging every scribble: How can this be sustainable?"

See, there's the crux. If it weren't for that whole sustainability thing, I'd have this development work thing down. But I could do an amazing job for two years, work entirely by myself, make a lot of things happen, and then? I would have spent two years a continent away from Chipotle, and for what? As Linda Richmond might say: "Bupkiss."

But I digress.

Something that really hit me hard was just how unique our experiences really are. Even within the individual programs — Health, Environment, Water and Sanitation — there's a huge difference in what each community needs, wants and is willing to do. Not to mention the challenges. Machismo on the hot coast, alcoholism in the cold Andes. While my photos are full of tank tops and palm trees, others have snow caps and colorful shawls. I'm humming cumbia and singing my Spanish; meanwhile my friends are dancing to huayno and throwing out words in Quechua.

We might be in the same country, but we're in very different worlds.

But even still, the energy and support we had all throughout training is still there, which is cool, you know? It's nice to know that if I ever fall, I have 45 people to help me get back up.

So, to all my beloved friends climbing mountains and riding in rickety buses to read this (Sarita, Derek and Jason included): I love you guys. Peru 12 – Represent!