It's loss and regret and misery and yearning that drive the story forward

I just had the best phone conversation with my brother. He's been calling me every half hour because we're beginning the move tomorrow, and he's excited. I love when my brother is in the mood to talk, and we can shoot the shit and giggle and even talk seriously about whatever's bothering us. There's nothing like a sibling in this world. I feel sorry for people that are only childs. What a horrible thing to do to a kid.

It's moments like these with my brother that make me wonder what I'm doing going to Chile. Whatever our level of communication, days like this won't be possible. Isn't it some sort of common knowledge that you can never know if you are truly happy where you're at unless you leave and experience something else? Well, I think that's crap. I love Washington endlessly. My family is here, and many of my close friends, and sometimes, when I'm driving into the city and there's a beautiful sunset, I get choked up by the overwhelming sense of home. I know there is value to striking out on your own, but when I am so connected here, it doesn't seem to make a lot of sense. But I'm going, nontheless. Many people react with "crazy girl" upon hearing about my adventure, and sometimes, I agree with them.

Whenever my thoughts wander down this path, I remind myself that it's only a year and that it will go fast. But at the same time, so much can change in a year. I don't want people to replace me. I don't want to only be able to connect through email and occasional letters or phone calls. I've become prone to these little moments of insecurity. If an undertaking only makes me a weaker version of myself, does it still have value? Of course. I know there's value in the challenge. I know it, but I don't feel it.

In other Chile-related news, I have raised $875 so far. A far cry from my goal of $3,190, but still rather impressive! Whatever I'm able to raise, in addition to whatever I'm able to save, will be enough because it will have to. I'm sort of excited by the prospect of having to survive on almost nothing. While I did this in AmeriCorps, it doesn't feel the same, because in AmeriCorps, it was more about how to survive in America, whereas in Chile, my standard of living will be starkly different. I can't wait to set off for Bolivia with my backpack and cobble together meals from market stalls. I'm already in the mindset, scoffing at girls I work with that are so impressed with themselves because they manage to pull together a cute outfit, obscenely priced. I spent $500 on clothing that will have to last me a year. And then I get smug, and feel superior, which is not the point, I know.

A PeaceCorps recruiter once shared a little annectdote about how you know you've been in the PeaceCorps when you come back and stories you tell can awkwardly halt conversations in a room full of people. I feel like I'm already entering that realm of thinking about the world differently. Imagine the full impact when I'm gone. Imagine the impact when I return.