Training, huh?

Today makes two weeks in country!  Here’s the overview:

After our first three day arrival event, we were split into groups based on both our Spanish speaking abilities and our technical program (for me, Sustainable Agriculture Food Security).  Then our groups were sprinkled out in communities within a 40 minute camioneta commute from PCHQ in Santa Lucia Milpas Altas.  Our training cycle has presented some difficulties because we didn’t cluster well with our speaking ablilites within the technical groups.  So, I find myself in a group of 8 trainees in one community split into three language levels that straddle two technical projects.  (I assume that ideally we’d have one tech group per community and one or two language levels.)

The philosophy behind the 11 weeks of training is learning by doing in a community based training (CBT) context.  I’ve now moved to my Sumpango Host Family’s home and split my time between Spanish language/Guatemalan culture classes and Technical training sessions most days (Mon, Wed, Thurs, Fri, and a half day on Sat).  My technical (Food Security) group is split between two towns, so half the group gets a ride from our trainer to the other town most days for a 2-4 hour session. 

Tuesdays are set aside for Common Sessions at PCHQ with the whole training group (all three technical groups).  These days are mainly spent on medical, safety, and general cultural adjustment sessions with a little bit of technical training thrown in.  Early on we received a mini briefcase full of medical supplies and then we tackle a different theme each week more in depth.  For example, yesterday was D Day.  Yes, that stands for Diarrhea. 

Upcoming milestones in training include:

·         Day-trip to a current volunteer’s site (tomorrow!)

·         Field Based Training week long trip to stretch our Spanish and technical wings (September)

·         Receive Site Assignment (October 14)

·         Site Visit for four nights (the following week…. Also hopefully moving into my site at least halfway)

·         Swearing in as a real Peace Corps Volunteer (October 29)

In between all these events I’ll be giving many practice presentations (one in English, the rest in Spanish) known as charlas (or chats).  Along the way the staff will evaluate/observe us to get to know us (our skills, interests, strengths) and match us with our sites for the following two years.  In Sustainable Agriculture there are 17 trainees and 30 sites who requested us, so hopefully that leaves them enough flexibility to avoid serious mismatches. 

All in all, I feel I’m in good hands those training me and placing me.  The one thing I’m antsy for is learning a Mayan language (which will very likely be the dominant language in my site).  But, since my site is still TBD I don’t know which language to start learning!  Ah well, patience, patience, patience.  That’s going to have to become my middle name.

Out of Here.

Overpacked?  Probably.  Nervous?  Definitely.  Going?  Ready or not!

F.O.M.O.

-noun.  (family slang)

[foh-moh]

abbr. Fear of Missing Out

The condition or syndrome in which the sufferer is seized by dread at the prospect that something exciting, enjoyable, important, or simply unrepeatable (read; anything of interest at all) might happen in her or his absence.  This can lead to paralysis during a decision making process, decreased enjoyment of whatever the patient is actually doing (due to chronic worry or attention to distant events), or choosing to do things against one's own inclination to ensure nothing happens without the sufferer's knowledge (i.e. staying awake far past feeling wakeful and cheerful simply because others are still awake and talking).

I think of FOMO sort of like the common cold.  Sometimes it lingers like a cough that just won't leave: it saps the enjoyment of a choice long after the action is taken and it's too late to go back, leaving the sufferer with regrets or at least pangs of what might have been.  Sometimes a quick bout is all there is, like a sore throat that never really turns into anything worth staying home from school or work over.  In those cases, I find a momentary pause before a decision, but never look back once launching.  In many cases, I find myself caught in paralysis by analysis, gripped by FOMO, unwilling to make any choice for fear the other would have been better.  I manage to make the choice eventually (perhaps painfully slowly to many outside observers), and generally have no long lasting ill effects.

I used to think FOMO was a common disease that struck all people.  I supposed some people came down with FOMO more often than others, but pretty much everyone got hit with it on occasion.  While this may still be true, I definitely have a predisposition to it; whether of genetic or environmental origin I do not know.  In recent years I have encountered several friends who look at me blankly when I try to describe my symptoms. They say, "just do what you want to do," or, "whatever choice you make is the right one, because that's the one you live," or, "follow your heart."  Turns out, some people have immunity to FOMO.  Because for me, it's a matter of wanting to have both choices.  It's also a matter of wanting to make the right choice.  My heart becomes hard to follow because it is so eager to experience it all that it is stretching in all directions attempting to not miss a thing.

During the (long, long) process of applying for the Peace Corps and deciding whether it was a good mutual fit, I was seized by FOMO on and off.  Once I accepted my invitation to Guatemala, I definitely had a spell where I was so concerned with all that would happen in the US while I am gone that I had a hard time seeing the exciting things that I will get to experience while I'm gone.  Things that my friends in family in the US will miss out on (childish inner voice says, "so there!").  Now I am set to get on the plane to start my adventure a week from today.  I am still feeling a little torn; I will miss at least five weddings of close friends this fall.  But mainly, I am feeling like it's time to set sail.  

Once I get through all my packing and errands, that is.  *gulp*