Joined the Peace Corps. BRB.

I received an envelope full of letters today. They were from middle school students in America, curious about what Peace Corps life is all about. Here's a few quotes taken from their letters:

• "Are you into football? I love the Redskins, I think they are a great football team."


• "I have three brothers named Peter, Matthew, and Luke."


• "Do you have any friends? Do you have a best friend? In America, we are allowed to like anyone of our choosing. We are not forced to worship or praise a master or a God. So what's going on in your country?"


• "Finally, I need to know why you joined the Peace Corps. Was it free will? Did someone make you?"


• "I want to know what it is like to attempt to make peace with another country."


• "If you don't hear about the current events and there is anything you want to know, I would be more than happy to tell you. For instance, the Tigers swept the A's and are in the World Series."


• "The reason I am writing is because I am wondering about what a Peace Cur is. The dictionary says it is a mean, cowardly person, but that doesn't make sense with peace. Please explain this to me."


• "I think that the Peace Corps is a wonderful thing and it is amazing what you guys do."


• "I also hope that someday I will be as good a person as you and join the Peace Corps."

Thanks, kids. Thanks.

And here's a picture of Seattle...in Jalalabad?

There’s a poster in the hallway of my school with a cactus on it. Dotted around the thorns are the names of students who have been tardy numerous times or are failing at least one of their classes. My students are brutal in taunting their classmates who are “cactus students,” sparing no insult or laugh in their derision. So much for the Communist Three Musketeers’ “all for one and one for all” mantra.

Living in the city as opposed to the village has made teaching a completely different experience. In the village, the kids had to begin their English learning from scratch – ABCs and basic vocabulary. But in the city, the kids understand complex sentences and have to be taught more application-type grammar problems. It makes it difficult because when I present a crappy lesson plan, the kids can tell me it sucks instead of wondering if their English is too bad to understand it.

Instead, we have lots of discussions in class. Basically Q&A with me about America, university life, and other random things. Today my students jumped on the “no money” part of being a volunteer and could not grasp the concept of working for free. I told them, “Money talks, but it can’t sing and dance, and it can’t walk.”

“Of course it can’t,” they replied.

They think they’re smart, but they’ve never heard of Neil Diamond?

I took the LSAT when I was back in the States. After studying for months, the test was exactly what I expected it to be: difficult. Likewise, applying to law schools has been a strenuous proposition, especially living overseas with limited access to resources (internet, people, books). Surprisingly enough, the most difficult obstacle in the long process thus far has been my own confidence, or lack thereof.

I’m a confident person. I believe that all things I pursue are done best by me. And, yes, I am the best basketball player in Kyrgyzstan. But after pouring over countless books, articles, and opinions about law school and the admissions process, my airtight confidence wanes, cracking in the chilly air of Osh.

I want to go to law school, it’s not matter of my wavering desire, but I’m getting a lot of pre-game jitters. It’s tough to squash the idea that those that I am competing against in the admissions game are 4.0 students with 180 LSAT scores and their own Fortune 500 company. Of course, that’s not true, but I can’t help but wonder sometimes if I have the right stuff, the smarts, the ability to conquer law school. Am I able to step into the top 1% of the world and succeed against these kinds of people?

I’m not despondent. I’m not scared. But, as is the case when I feel that pinch from life, I can’t help but feel excited. A defiant smile (grimace?) paints my face in times like these.

I’ve got it.

My mom screamed when she saw me. Is that a normal reaction when a mother sees her son? It is when you show up in a coffee shop in Tacoma after being in Kyrgyzstan for over a year. My dad and I planned the surprise beginning in July, so it was great that things worked out. But now I'm back in Central Asia, ready to finish my final year.

I knew I had been away for a long time when I reached Dulles International Airport in Washington D.C. After buying a few magazines, the sales lady complimented me on my English proficiency.

Hm.