The past couple of weeks have been emotional for me. I miss my friends from home/college a lot more than usual, and I feel like I should be in Latin America right now (especially thanks to all the SIP pictures and status posts that are inundating my Facebook newsfeed). I know I'm where I'm supposed to be at this moment, working with immigrants in a society that overwhelmingly mistreats them. I know that I'm learning a lot about myself while improving my Spanish and being somewhat useful at the clinic. But I also know that I'm being called elsewhere. I am extremely excited to start graduate school and begin studying global public health in a more academic way. I am also starting to look forward to hopefully going abroad next summer to do my thesis research and then joining the Peace Corps the summer after I graduate. Mercy Volunteer Corps has given me an amazing opportunity this year to take a step back and discover where my passions truly lie, but now I'm in an awkward period of being phased out of my job while anticipating my next steps.
In order to calm my sense of restlessness lately, I decided to spend the majority of my money on plane tickets for the summer. I'll be going to Pasadena, CA from July 22 to July 26 and then to Philadelphia from August 2 to August 8. That leaves me nearly three weeks to spend time at home to see friends and family, have jury duty, and go to like 4 doctor's appointments. I can already feel my time before entering grad school slipping away. I have plans for nearly every weekend until then, but I guess that's just how I tend to cope with big life changes.
Anyway, I've been reflecting a lot this weekend on my ability to give and receive mercy/love/kindness/whatever you want to call it freely. It's sometimes really strange to have all the people I know here in Savannah be aware of the fact that I only make $100/month for spending. People always offer to give me food or to pay for an outing, and they never fail to bring something (usually wine) if I invite them over to my house. It's certainly nice to be rid of the pressure to always reciprocate gifts but I still find myself feeling somewhat awkward when people just pick up my check at a restaurant or take me on special excursions.
Yesterday I arrived at Mass a few minutes late, and when I got in I awkwardly stood in the back. Barely 30 seconds later, a man carrying a "hand baby" (that is definitely one of my favorite Savannah terms) got up out of his pew, found a folding chair, carried it down the side aisle of the church, and plopped it down, motioning me to go sit. There were a few young men sitting on the floor behind where my new chair was, and I felt extremely awkward, like a "gringa princess" or something. I know the man was trying to be polite, and I certainly appreciated the gesture, but I still felt uncomfortable for some reason.
As I try to grapple with why I have such a hard time accepting other peoples' "random acts of kindness", I guess I should start also considering how many other people I have made feel uncomfortable by trying to "help" them.
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