thoughts.

I really do love Conce. There’s just something about being outside here that is so calm and peaceful. I’m back on my favorite porch, listening to the crickets chirp while I stare out into… Well, darkness. There are no lights and the moon/stars are obscured by clouds, so I can barely even make out the difference between the mountains and the sky.

It’s funny how things change in just a few days. Last time I was here, I was the “chinita”—some Chinese chick that no one knew or recognized. I came to Conce mostly just to check the place out, meet people, get to know the area, and see the clinic. We bonded over rum and cornhole, and late-night firefly watching. Today, I was greeted by name by both doctors and brigade members (that was a real surprise), all of whom were warm and welcoming. I came so that I could attend the health fair tomorrow—to work alongside health promoters and community volunteers in a nearby community while getting a feel for these types of community health events. And today, among all these people camped out in hallways and porches, I decided to sit out on the porch by myself, thinking and staring into the darkness.

Been doing a lot of thinking lately. Probably comes as no surprise to my friends in the States—at home and at Yale, I overthink like crazy and am stuck in my head all the time. But one of the reasons I love it here is that when I first arrived, I somehow escaped all of that. I lived in the moment, whether working, chatting, reading or writing, and took every day as it came. It’s a testament to my time here that I even noticed I was stuck in my head.

But now I’m back in the crowd of “whys” and “what ifs” and “what will happens,” for better or worse. Maybe it’s just time for that monthly mental checkup, or maybe it’s just because of all the imminent change. In a few days a new long-term volunteer will arrive to join our gang. A day later, Ben will get back from his two-week vacation, along with Art, Dick, and co. It’s strange to think that in the past two weeks, those of us who have been here have all become close and comfortable with each other, forming a support network that will inevitably shift and expand to accommodate change.

I love this kind of ever-shifting and yet constant dynamic—the same type of camaraderie I enjoyed while in Germany. Somehow, the fact that people come and go and serve different terms makes people bond faster and—I think—on more genuine grounds. Despite knowing someone’s imminent departure, everyone still wants to get as close to everyone else as possible. Connections and intimacy, though not instantaneous, develop quickly, and there’s very little bullshit.

Instead of holding back and keeping some sort of safe distance, it’s almost as if we try to squeeze as much as possible out of people before they leave—to have more to remember, hold onto, and maybe even idealize once they’re gone. The fact that we’re here is already a strong tie that holds us together, but the knowledge that we’re all leaving somehow accelerates the process, knocking down walls and allowing us to see and admire the best in each other. Or… maybe that’s just because we work, eat, and sleep together. Who knows.

Anyway, sorry for yet another sappy post. I figure if I write some of my thoughts down and get them out there, they’ll cloud my head a little less and quit distracting me. Or at least clear out some space for me to think about other, more productive things.

Hopefully.