My Geographic Biography | A Blogging Abroad Challenge

Backstory: through the super cool website, Blogging Abroad, I have began their weekly blogging challenge. Every week, I’ll receive a prompt from them, and based around that prompt, I’ll write. This week, they’ve prompted me to blog about my “why.”

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And you may ask yourself, well, how did I get here?

“How did you get to where you are?”  This is one of my thoughts to consider for this week. How did I get to a tiny Armenian mountain town? How did I become a Peace Corps Volunteer?  What values got me into this scenario? What opportunities did I take, and what things did I have to sacrifice? Why are you reading this blog that’s all about Peace Corps in Armenia?

Well, there’s equal parts humble bragging and self reflection to include in this post. I have been very fortunate, privileged and lucky. Not everybody has the opportunity to travel, go to a university, or be accepted to Peace Corps (which is typically a result of having previous experience traveling and attending a university.) That said, a crazy geographic journey has brought me to where I am now– huddled by my wood stove, eating Pocky from a care package, and powering through the last month(s) of winter in Armenia.

This is going to cover quite a long span of time.

My parents are well traveled, culturally sensitive, and curious people. My father and mother have both had stints living in other countries and interacting through their work with an array of cultures outside their own. They both have pushed me to go after opportunities like Peace Corps. However, that push started a lot earlier than in recent years when joining Peace Corps became a realistic goal of mine. So how did it start?

Nothing initially inspired me to start traveling. In fact, I was pushed to go overseas and out of my comfort zone. Where was that? Zambia.

I was fifteen years old. At the time, my mother was working at Gonzaga University, teaching a class on social justice and service learning. A facet of this class was studying abroad in Zambia, teaching and working in a rural community as volunteers. My mother asked me if I wanted to join her in Zambia that semester, encouraging me to push myself. I agreed. Some meetings with my teachers and two trips to REI later, I was staying in Zambezi, Zambia. I volunteered in the local preschool during the mornings, working alongside Zambian preschool teachers, basically working as a glorified babysitter, but helping with classes in whatever capacity I could. The warmth of my students and the teachers made me eager to go to “work” every day.

Admittedly, Zambia wasn’t initially easy for me. I missed home and my dog. I was suffering from depression (both at home and throughout my time in Zambia) which challenged me in different ways daily. Now, in hindsight, I think culture shock was harder for me than my teenage self gave credit. That said, going to Zambia pushed me to see places that are vastly different from what I’ve known and experienced. I was prompted to meet people from other cultures and engage in a cultural exchange. With my time working  in the preschool, and observing the college students living alongside me, I realized how important acts of service can be in communities around the world, as well as for the individuals serving on an individual level. On top of everything, the excitement of integrating in a new culture, discovering new facets within a host culture, and enjoying the honeymoon phase of living in a new country was so sweet for me.

I attribute my interest in social justice and service to my mother. My mother has always instilled these values in me, and my time in Zambia lit a spark for me. If she hadn’t pushed me to travel and to give back to my host community, I may not have the interests I have today.

My mom and I in London. We were en route from Zambia to Washington.

The service-abroad-thing kept on driving me from there. I had opportunities to travel, but never to volunteer in the same capacity again. I saw some beautiful countries, but never any that challenged me to reflect and exchange cultures in the same way that Zambia did. I remember my sophomore year of college. That’s when the next formative adventure overseas happened. But first…

Augsburg College is a special place. It’s a small liberal art’s school in the heart of downtown Minneapolis. Little did I know, upon deciding to matriculate at Augsburg, that I would be attending a school that would encourage me and urge me to serve the diverse community within Minneapolis. Augsburg is a special place in this way. Much to the pleasure of my parents, we learned that Augsburg was even recognized by the White House for it’s commitment to community service. My first week of school, Augsburg connected us with service projects within the community. This was the largest part of my college orientation, which I found to be equal parts weird and awesome. I studied History and Theatre at Augsburg. In hindsight, despite loving those programs, I now realize that studying education or sociology may have been helpful to me. That’s okay.

Here are some pictures of me doing things at Augsburg. Ooooh, ahhh:

 

Through Augsburg, I was encouraged to study abroad. With the focus on serving my community (wherever in the world that community may be) on my mind, I found the perfect program. The International Partnership for Service Learning (IPSL) was organizing study abroad programs that Augsburg’s study abroad office supported. I found a program in Kolkata, India. It fit what I wanted out of that experience like a glove.

My time in Kolkata was a whirlwind. Smushed into a three bedroom apartment with 8 other American girls in residential Kolkata, we spent our mornings working at various service positions, our afternoons studying, and our nights exploring the amazing city.  Through Missionaries of Charity, I was placed at an orphanage called Shishu Bhavan (literally children’s home) in a unit that housed children with various physical and mental disabilities. Primarily working with children with Cerebral Palsy, we spent the days educating and caring after the kids. Spending these months in Kolkata, working at Shish Bhavan, it became clear to me that I was happy in this position. Every part of living in Kolkata felt like a honeymoon phase– maybe it was. I loved the thrill of exploring a new city, a new language, and a new culture. I realized how much I love working with kids– I was always bummed when the service part of my day ended, and the education part of my day began. I was intrigued to see what Kolkata had to offer– learning about different universities, nonprofits, art galleries, etc. Being challenged was refreshing and scary, but I’m now so happy that these challenged found me, and molded me into a more resilient and compassionate person. I loved the people I lived and worked with– they inspired me on the daily to be a more informed, adventurous, and just better person. I wanted to recreate that and experience the joy of community integration again, all while working with people at eye level. So here we are.

I worked with Mita every day at Shishu Bhavan. This is my favorite picture of the two of us. Photo credit to Alex Rego.

At that point, Peace Corps became a very realistic goal.

I applied twice. After being rejected the first time (I would have left straight after college), I worked for a while as a copywriter. I tutored ESL students. I was a part time dog walker. I got used to being an adult for a while, before making a very adult move– to Armenia for two (or more) years.

But first–

It’s impossible for me to mention by journey to being a Peace Corps Volunteer without mentioning the most formative place in the world for me– Camp Sweyolakan. I attended this camp for ten years and worked at it for five, all the while discovering my love for working with children while cultivating leadership development programs. This camp is a huge reason that I had the confidence to get out of my comfort zone and try things that scare me a little bit. Sweyolakan also helped remind me time and time again that working with youth is my passion, and I don’t want to lose that passion. To this day, I see the wonderful leaders that my former campers and peers have become, and I am proud to be a product of that special place. I might owe my entire service (and potential future in youth development) to that hidden camp on Mica Bay. I think summer camp made me a better Peace Corps Volunteer.

 

So there’s my “why.” What brought me here. It was equal parts opportunity to travel and exchange cultures with exposure to working with youth. I’ve been lucky to have these opportunities, and to have to sacrifice very little in order to spend 27 months service in Armenia. Thank you to everyone keeping up with this blog. I hope you’re ready to stick through these weekly challenges with me.

Until then– back to service, weekend trips, and Winter in Armenia. Stay warm, wherever in the world you are!

 

– Alia