I guess the cool thing about COVID (jk, there’s really nothing cool about COVID) is that it’s forcing me to spend more time exploring the outdoors here in my home state.
This past weekend, my high school friends Zach and Kevin and I booked what was literally the last public campsite in the entire state of Michigan and went up north to spend a few days camping in Traverse City.
Yep, we’re out here protesting too. BLACK LIVES MATTER.
Man. Things have been… weird.
I’ve been doing a whole lot of nothing lately. Waiting to reinstate? I guess? Coming up with contingency plans if I can’t? Maybe? I’ve been doing a lot of job searching, hoping to find something temporary like contact tracing or freelance reporting so I can bide my time until this all passes over and I can go back to Ukraine.
In the mean time, I just keep crying looking through old photos, talking to my host family, studying Ukrainian…
…pretending this will all be over soon.
I think this is the first Peace-Corps-but-post-Peace-Corps post I’ve written since our evacuation (parts one, two and three) happened. It’s been hard to really think too deeply about.
But, I digress. I wanted to take a second to share a few of my favorite places in Khmelnytskyi with you. Yunno. Just in case you ever find yourself in Khmelnytskyi, Ukraine.
OK so I definitely didn’t think reverse culture shock was a REAL thing.
Like, what do you mean reintegrating back into U.S. society will be jarring, hard and strange? I spent 30 years here! How uncomfortable can it be?
Um, well, turns out, it CAN be hard.
OK, well, where’d we leave off in the traumatic saga that was the COVID-19 global Peace Corps evacuation? I think we were just taking off and leaving Ukraine’s borders.
In case you missed it, part one of the evacuation saga (detailing the process leading up to evacuation and leaving my actual site) can be read here and part two of the evacuation saga (detailing our week-long attempt at getting out of country) can be read here.
So, that leaves us at part three: leaving Kyiv, and stopping in Madrid for a short layover, Washington D.C. for one night, Detroit for all of 30 seconds and then finally back to Ypsilanti, where my sister lives.
In case you missed it… this is a continuation of my Peace Corps evacuation story. I published part 1 — about getting the call to evacuate and booking my train out of Khmelnytskyi — yesterday.
Today’s post will talk about how — what should have been a simple flight out of Kyiv — ended up as day after day of COVID-induced delays, flight cancelations and hotel shuffling.
Well, here we go.
I gave you guys a short post explaining that I was evacuated from Ukraine and my Peace Corps service was closed out due to COVID-19. I wanted to elaborate more on that and talk about the evacuation process, now that I can almost, kind of, collect my thoughts.
This is a long one, folks. I’m going to split it into a few posts for the sake of both brevity and my sanity. Buckle up.
This is the hardest post I’ve had to write.
I’m still numb. Shocked. Confused. I’ve written and rewritten this post and I can’t seem to find the right words to say. None of this feels real.
But, my Peace Corps service is apparently over, 20 months early. Every single volunteer worldwide has been evacuated from their country of service and given COS status.
You guys, excuse my language, but what the FUCK is happening?
We got an email on the 13th explaining that the World Health Organization declared COVID-19 a global pandemic. I’m watching the U.S. fall apart via my Twitter feed (??) and here — short of another three-week quarantine period from school* — everything is normal?
*Even this is normal. Ukrainians shut down schools for two weeks every flu season for “quarantine.”
We’re no longer allowed to travel outside of Ukraine — including back to the U.S., and now that there’s no school for the next few weeks, I’ve suddenly got a LOT of unstructured free time.
I needed a distraction, so I ended up booking a last-minute cheap platzkart ticket to go visit Rachel at her site in Ternopil.
I’m so excited!
I’m finally well enough into my Peace Corps service that I can start implementing side projects and clubs.
Back in mid-November, one of the wonderful girls that routinely attended my Window on America speaking club, Marina, approached me about re-starting a local chapter of “I Am That Girl,” which is a spin-off of a book written by Alexis Jones, focused on helping women find their passion and purpose.
A former volunteer at my site had started a local IATG chapter during her service, but sadly, it fizzled out once she ended her service and returned to the U.S.
Marina approached me and Crystal, the other female volunteer in Khmelnytskyi, and asked if we’d have any interest in restarting the club.
The answer was a very obvious “of course!”
