I had foolishly believed that I was going to be an exception to the Peace Corps rule. That I would escape that dreadful fate that had stricken so many before me. “It’s not if, it’s when” they say. Naively I believed myself to be above such horror. I was wrong. So very wrong.
The day had started out like any before. Perfectly nice and normal. I had woken up, gone for my run and bucket bathed. Besides the lack of running water there was nothing that could get me down. While enjoying my morning coffee I decided to have some fried rice for lunch and made plans to visit my local market stall for some deliciousness.
“Extra peppers, please.” I asked. Such a good call, the rice was amazing. Flavorful and filling. I cleaned my bowl and spoon in a happy shroud of satisfaction. It was time for music to play, laundry to wash, and dancing while waiting. “Ahh, nothing like freshly washed bed sheets I thought as I hung them out to dry in the warm breeze.”
“What was that?” I wondered. “Probably nothing.” I decided, not realizing it was a warning sign foreshadowing the impending plot twist in my life. Checking the faucets to see if running water had returned I was left a tad disappointed. But just then my jam came on. It was time for a dance party, just me and the bathroom mirror.
I was making eye contact when it happened. I placed my trust where it shouldn’t have been. I miscalculated like so many Peace Corps volunteers before me. Holding eye contact with my reflection the horror slowly spread across my face. Shock. Disbelief. Anger. And finally acceptance. It had happened. After 3+ years as a PCV it had caught up to me.
I broke eye contact. I started to laugh, slowly my laughter built until I couldn’t breath. Of course it would happen to me. Of course I wouldn’t escape! I laughed at myself. I laughed at my reflection. I laughed at the hilarity of it all. I was a mere three feet from salvation and I couldn’t make it. I laughed because...
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