Missing Out: When Life Abroad Interferes with Life Back Home

Since moving abroad to start my new job as a Peace Corps Volunteer a year and a half ago, I’ve become well-acquainted with what some travelers refer to as FOMO- Fear of missing out.  It seems a little bit contradictory: I moved abroad to avoid missing out on a fulfilled, adventurous life doing work that matters for people I love, but here I am feeling like I’m missing out? 

If you’ve ever lived abroad, for any period of time, I’m sure you understand where I’m coming from, but if not, I’m going to try and put it into words as best as I can.

I love where I’m from in the United States.  In both Knoxville and Pittsburgh (and a few other places throughout the country) I have wonderful, supportive friends and family who I love and enjoy being with.  In Panama I have a great job that lets me learn, explore, and put my skills to use in a great way.  Geographically speaking though, I physically can’t have both at the same time.

Choosing to live abroad- or any place far from home- means that you’re going to have to give up things and experiences you’d otherwise have been happy to have.  Sure, sometimes I miss physical things or places, but the thing that makes living abroad the hardest for me is knowing that I can’t be with the people I love all the times I’d love to be. 

Going home is always an option, but it comes at a price.  Depending on distance and cost, every expat draws his or her lines at different points, but it’s never easy.  Would I love to be home for every birthday, graduation and important event?  Absolutely.  If travel weren’t an issue, I’d be there in a heartbeat.  Unfortunately, that’s not possible. 

And that’s where FOMO sets in.  Today my family is throwing a giant party for my grandma’s 90^th birthday, in November my little sister is turning 21, and don’t even get me started on Thanksgiving, Christmas, and all the little things that make life and relationships what they are. 

When I do have internet, I love catching up on my family and friends’ lives back home.  Some are in new relationships, others have new jobs, and even if nothing huge has changed, their lives are continuing in a beautiful way.  Simultaneously, I love and hate facebook, instagram, twitter, and every other media outlet that shows me glimpses of what I’m missing. 

I’m trying to have as much of both worlds as best as I can, but that’s certainly a challenge.  I try to talk with loved ones back home as much as I can, and the ones I’m truly close to try just as hard (if not harder!) to keep me in the loop with their lives as they learn about mine. 

We’re living completely different lives nearly 2,000 miles apart, but that’s what helps me keep my fear of missing out in check- friends and family who care enough to support me where I’m at for now.

The Emotional Moments of a First Year Peace Corps Volunteer

Group 73 at our Swear in Ceremony in August, 2013

This past week I had the opportunity to celebrate the swearing in of Group 75 and couldn't help but remember when I was in their shoes exactly one year ago.  In what seems like the blink of an eye (except for when I was suffering with one of many jungle maladies...) my first year as a Peace Corps Volunteer is officially complete and I'm now on the downhill slope.  There's so much left to see and do, but I also wanted to share some of my most memorable moments thus far.  

To my fellow G73'ers: I have loved spending this past year learning, working, and laughing with you and can't wait for another year of scaries, happies, funnies... and hopefully not too many more grosses.

The Scariest Moment

I will never forget the day we left for our sites.  As the province of Bocas has one main road, many of us road the bus together and then got off at our respective stops one by one.  In the midst of the loud tipico music and chatter of a typical bus in Panama, we were all eerily silent.  As we were nearing her stop, I turned to my friend Zoe and asked her what she was thinking.  Then she, one of the happiest, most positive and upbeat people I've ever met, said simply, "I'm trying really hard not to cry."  It was terrifying and it was finally real.  We were getting ready to start new lives in new places where we would be the only ones like us.  There would be no English speakers, no amenities, no one who could understand where we were coming from, and we would be experiencing all of these firsts while living with an extremely impoverished host family and without a home of our own.  To read more of the scary, hard moments of Peace Corps, check out this blog.  

The Most Personally Successful Moment

While I can put my finger down on the exact moments I've felt successful as an agribusiness volunteer, I can't quite do the same for the personal side of the story.  As a person, and now as a member of my community, I feel like one of the best things I have been able to give to my people is the time we spend together as friends.  We've shared thoughts, beliefs, culture, food, games, laughs, and most importantly, friendship.  Building relationships takes time, but it's the time spent in those little moments that I know I'll be looking back on for years to come.  

The Most Professionally Successful Moment

What started out as a fun little way to spend my afternoons has grown into a women's empowerment and basic financial education project I'm helping to spread across the country.  It's not the numbers that have me feeling most successful with my Women's Baking & Business class though- it's the individuals who are benefitting.  While selling a few dulces likely won't drastically change their lifestyle, it can give them the tools and encouragement they need to be more confident and practice better household financial management.  

The Funniest Moment

While Spanish is the most widely used language in Panama, many indigenous people also speak their local language- Ngäbere.  It's full of gutteral sounds that sound nothing like Spanish, and learning it has been a fun and interesting way to integrate into my community.  An absolutely priceless moment occurred one day a few weeks ago while I was picking up some groceries in a store just outside of town.  While looking around, the two teenage boys who worked in the store started to stare a bit.  Since I'm finally used to sticking out like a sore thumb, I didn't pay much attention until I heard one say to the other, "Meti ta makwe," or "That girl is yours."  I have never seen two faces more surprised than theres when I turned around and replied "Ña gäre.  Ti ña gäre ta mawe," "Nope.  I am not your girl." 

The Grossest Moment

Gastrointestinal parasites, ringworm, mysterious jungle rashes and unsolved stomach bugs have all contributed to some pretty gross personal moments here in Panama, and I'm pretty sure nasty pit latrines with rotting floors can speak for themselves.  The story I continually go back to, though, is the time bathing in unsanitary water led me to get a really, really gross bacterial infection.  It was so gross that the taxi driver of the car I was riding in did a double take, pulled over, and said "I sure hope I'm taking you straight to the hospital, because that looks awful." Long story short, he did, and after fulfilling Doctor's orders of taking tons of antibiotics and moving to a new house, I'm almost as good as new.  The scar remains.