Doubts

I've arrived in DC and I'm having some serious doubts about doing this at all. I'm sorry if that is disappointing to many of you, and I'd really appreciate if no one responded to this post with "you can do it!" or "You don't even know how great it's going to be" or any other encouraging words since you're not the ones staring down two years in Azerbaijan.

The fact is I don't know why I'm doing this, and being confronted with 30-odd super-peppy people who know exactly why they're doing it and Can't Wait for it to get started makes that even more apparent. When I applied for Peace Corps I was 25, just out of college with no idea what to do with my life and, frankly, pretty discontent with the way things were. Now I'm 27, convinced I want to write even if I'm never successful at it, and genuinely happy for the first time in a long time. I love my job, my friends, having my family so close, and of course that complication who shalt go by the name of Spider is no small factor in my current happiness.

I know if I don't go many people who think I am cowardly. Others will think I am only doing it because I'm in love. Others will say I wasted an opportunity they would have killed for when they were younger/less attached/able to travel.

It's my life though. I can't justify wasting two years of it if I'm going to be miserable the whole time and wishing I was writing more or working somewhere I could use my Arabic skills or just at home with Spider. I've been fortunate enough to spend time traveling and living abroad. I know what it entails and how it can be both stressful and very, very rewarding. I just don't know that I want to put myself through it again, especially for so long. (Because "travel" is very different than "living somewhere and learning a new language for 2 years.") I need to have a goal that is served by this to justify the amount of stress and work and being unhappy and I just don't.

I'm sorry if this is a terribly negative thing to read. I haven't decided anything for sure, but I want to be honest about the way I'm feeling and right now I just don't think I'm doing this for the right reasons. Perhaps staging will change my mind. I hope you will all forgive me if it doesn't.

Where to reach me

Kelsey Pince
Attention Peace Corps
Sumgayit Post Office
Azadlig prospect 15
Azerbaijan 5000


That's where I'll be receiving mail for the first 11 weeks. If you want to send me letters, pictures, or anything with dark chocolate, my future self thanks you heartily. It's been a tough couple of weeks. I'm having serious doubts about this being the right decision but I think that's pretty normal. It's just hard to feign enthusiasm when I want to dig my heels in and stay. Luckily I have some great friends at my side who won't let me get too lost. Chev has been through the entire PC experience already and knows what to avoid (spending a fortune on gadgets at REI) and what preparations are necessary.

I'm leaving April 3rd on the 2pm Alaska Airlines flight from SeaTac. I have a ride to the airport with the person who is somehow at once the scariest and least scary to say goodbye to. I'll be in DC for two nights and then on to Azerbaijan for the first few months of training. I'm making a packing list and trying to sort out what to do with my apartment and all of the stuff in it. I had my last day at work, and the subsequent party was nothing short of magical. It's hard to walk away from so much love and have faith that it will find me again once I come back. But I've moved away before and things generally turn out OK in the end.

 This will probably be my last update until I'm actually in DC for training. Thanks for all the lovely times and support and I will miss you all terribly!

Mentors, Packing and the dreaded goodbyes

Hi all. I've been in hiding. Some health troubles (combined with a growing belief that hiding from the fact that I leave in 6 weeks will somehow make it not happen) have made me pretty reclusive. And there hasn't really been much to say but here are some updates.


First of all, the PC in Azerbaijan has assigned each of us incoming volunteers to an existing volunteer mentor. Mine has been tons of help with questions about what to pack (a sleeping bag liner, my iPhone,  some conservative clothes) what not to worry too much about (my tattoos, the availability of peanut butter) and general insight into life in the AZ (the Baijan? Banastand? I'm still not settled on a shorthand for where I am going...) This has helped tremendously. (Thanks James!)

Azerbaijan was in the NY Times, and many people have been sending me the article, so here's a link if you're curious. 


The major things I'd planned on buying before leaving were a backpack and an e-reader of some kind. My lovely Aunt Leslie has graciously offered to send me the first and my lovely friend Mariah went MAD and bought me the second for my birthday. So I've been taking advantage of a somewhat flexible budget and indulging in the kind of fancy food and drink I won't have access to, (though aforementioned health stuff has put the brakes on that) as well as buying some better-fitting clothes since I seem to have finally realized nothing I own is the right size anymore. It's pretty low stress, though, I admit, I am tired of people asking me how I'm feeling about leaving. I don't want to say goodbye to anyone, I don't want to leave, I don't want to talk about it. Before you worry too much, this is pretty normal for me before a big life change and I will still go and I will still enjoy myself once I am there. But I Do Not Want to deal with any of the feelings I'm having right now. It makes me very unpleasant to be around.

Today I went through my clothes and bagged up everything I want to get rid of before I go. Next month I'll do the same with the books, which will be much more heartbreaking. Until then I'm going to go back to pretending like I'm not leaving (except when the chance to go to my favorite restaurant/coffe shop/ice cream/cafe/really anything that is food related comes up and all I need is an excuse to justify the expense. Of course.) 

What Happens When You Leave?

I've been hearing a variation on the same refrain for months now. "You're coming out of your shell", "You seem happier/more confident/prettier/more like yourself", etc etc. And I have been doing very well lately. It's not a particularly big secret about why but I'll leave details off of the internet. It has led to a number of other similar-sounding concerns about What Happens When You Leave.

Because Peace Corps is a great option when you don't know what should come next or when you're not happy with where you are. And for the first time in a long time, (maybe ever,) I don't have either of those problems. I know what I want. And I'm very happy with the way things are.

This can applied to most aspects of my life. I know, (at least in my brain if not in the more emotional parts of me,) that most of it would not seem so rose-colored if I weren't getting ready to walk away from it all. People don't hold back with kindness or affection when they know you've only got a short time left. I have never in my life felt as loved as I have in the time since I accepted this assignment. My friends, family and co-workers have been so supportive that I don't even understand it most of the time. It doesn't make it easier to think about leaving them.

Other things seem better, too. Though I love my job, it doesn't pay well enough to be a long-term career. But lately it seems like the Best and Most Fulfilling thing I could be doing. Writing, editing and attempting to get published are a grind, a constant struggle that made me crazy at times. Now that I'm going away it feels like all it would take for me to end up the next Neil Gaiman would be to stay in America with my mentor and keep at it.

I know that much of this is because I am leaving. If I were not, I would surely be at least a little more discontent. But the idea of letting go of the good things doesn't make me want them any less right now. It IS going to be a crushing thing, leaving all of you, leaving my life in America and moving to a place where I don't know anyone or speak the language. I will be heartbroken, and sad, and scared, and I will at times wish I had not gone.

But I will go. And the most difficult days will be made easier because of the last few months, and the happy memories I have with you all. Yes, life is very good right now. It's going to be hard to leave it behind. In my experience the hard things are still worth doing. And I don't think life has enough pleasure in it to justify limiting happiness now to spare heartache later. So I will keep enjoying these days, knowing they are made brighter by their approaching end. Peace Corps will surely have good things, too. I will have adventures and make friends and probably find that much of the work, no matter how hard or frustrating, is still worth doing. I can't say I'm looking forward to it, exactly, but I'm certainly not dreading it. I suppose this was intended to draw to a close in some significant way, but all I can say is that at least now, ten weeks out, I'm happier than I can remember being before. I can't worry too much about what happens next.

Pre-departure Bucket List

Things to do with my last 93 92 71 43 days in the country:

1. Swim in the ocean
2. Eat plenty of avocados
3. Bacon-oke
4. Go to Mamnoon
5. Finish editing novel 2
6. Glo's. As much as possible.
7. Portland trip!
8. SF trip!
9. Box someone
10. Indian food
11. Crumble & Flake
12. Go to the aquarium
13. Possibly try bone marrow
14. Girls night with all my ladies
15. Bethany and Jeff's wedding!
16. Avery's 1st Birthday!
17. Go to the top of the Columbia tower
18. Take a ferry ride
19. Bake Macarons. Well.
20. Swimming with Kitri and Micklin and Seija
21. Visit Arlington
22. Bike the Burke Gilman one more time
23. Pick up the sunglasses at group health
24. Midnight movies at the Egyptian followed by 3 am breakfast
25. Hot Mama's pesto pizza
26. Finish like a bazillion books.
27. Cheese Wizards and wine!
28. Bloody Marys and Brunch
29. Pho with Ham and Wells!
30. Chev's B-day party!
31. Eat a baguette.
32. Puppy sit for Yonker's babies!
33. Another tattoo
34. QFC night in Stanwood with Chev
35. Get an e-reader
36. Eat a 'dilla made by Boogie



(Suggestions for more would be very welcome!)  

The burgers come in pairs

I think I'll be in good company once I actually make it to Azerbaijan. The more I learn about the country the more excited I get to go. The food sounds great and it seems like I might even be able to survive without giving up on being a vegetarian. So that would be nice.

Since I accepted the assignment two things have happened: I've gotten a ton of paperwork to do, and I've started making every little thing into "THE LAST _____ BEFORE I LEAVE." I admit, I have a slight (*slight*) tendency toward the dramatic when it comes to major change and this is no exception. So if you hear me get all poetic about this being my last Christmas at home, or my last month paying rent, or my last breakfast burrito in the cafe (shut up that will be a terrible day when it comes)... just take it for what it is and tell me to hush. Not everything is another grain of sand (or breakfast burrito) in the hour glass. And while 27 months seems like the longest time in the world, the rational part of my brain knows it is not.

Some things to know about Azerbaijan, for the curious:

• Azerbaijan means "fire guardians" (kind of) and is an Arabization of the Persian "Azarpaigan"
• It is located on the Caspian Sea and shares borders with Iran, Armenia, Georgia and Russia
• Azerbaijani (or Azeri) language is similar to Turkish. 
• Islam is the predominant religion in Azerbaijan
• Apparently smiling is not considered appropriate in public. I'm probably going to have a breakdown and think the whole country is mad at me. For more, check out the Wiki page I'll link to in the sidebar. 

Now look at this picture of the Azerbaijani Foreign Affairs Minister with President Obama. Our countries get along so well! I hope the President comes to visit while I'm there. Just for funsies. 

An e-mail at 6am

It almost always means spam. That sound of an email so early in the morning will usually not even prompt me to check my phone. For some reason this morning was different.

Dear Kelsey,

Congratulations! It is with great pleasure that we invite you to begin training in Azerbaijan for Peace Corps service. You will be joining thousands of Americans who are building stronger communities around the world. This call to action gives you the opportunity to learn new skills and to find the best in yourself. The next step is up to you.

I froze for a moment. The last I'd heard, I was at least a phone interview away from even getting considered for an assignment. This was not the e-mail I'd been expecting.

For a moment I turned my phone face down and put it down on the bed, away from me. "I don't want to deal with this yet," I said, and I asked to be distracted. But my mind would not stop.

Yes, this is what I signed up for when I applied to Peace Corps from the transit house in Ouagadougou. I was spending a few weeks in Burkina Faso with my best friend who was a year into her own PC service. That was August 2011. Since then, life has changed quite a bit.

I've written two books (and maybe half of a third.) I'm still working at the bookstore that I love, doing a job that I love, with people that I love like family. Chev came home from Burkina this year, and now I'm living with her, as well. Life seemed so up in the air after graduation, and now I've settled in and gotten comfortable.

Get out of this life like a queen-sized bed and get to work, the e-mail said. I don't care if you're comfortable. I don't care if you're happy. It's time to give all of that up, time to change the life you didn't know you liked so much until this moment.

Of course, I'm excited. Of course, I accepted the assignment. Of course, I will go.

But for a moment there I just wanted to press my back against the wall and crawl further back from that phone and hide in the blankets on that bed.

I didn't. I have the kind of friends who wouldn't let me if I tried, and I am so grateful for that.

Of course, I'm scared. But I know I'll be ready, once the time comes.