Hiccups you can't fix with peanut butter

This blog is now misnamed. We’re not in Armenia, nor does it look like we’ll be there anytime soon.

About two weeks before we were supposed to leave the country, we hit a roadblock with the Peace Corps. We learned that we had left out some (apparently) very important information from our health forms, and we were being pulled from our staging. PC asked for more paperwork over the next two weeks, then eventually decided we would be “medically deferred” for a year.

It sounds like we can appeal this decision with more paperwork and visits to doctors, but it’s still not clear whether we’ll ever be able to serve. We’re crossing our fingers and eagerly awaiting more forms in the mail.

In the meantime, we’re staying with Keith’s parents. We were visiting them in Nebraska when this all happened and they’ve generously offered to house us until we can figure things out.

One option may be teaching English abroad; we’ve been looking into various programs that might accept us quickly. It’s not volunteer service like PC would have been, but then there might be some sort of contract involved that would prevent another crisis. It’s still a good time for us to try to see some of the world.

As for me, I don’t really know what to do with myself at the moment. I was supposed to be meeting new people, learning another language, and beginning to serve a new community. Instead, I am living in my husband’s parents’ basement without a job.

I’ve never been one for grandiose, fanciful dreams. I generally look at my current situation and figure out a realistic step forward from there. And that’s what I thought applying to PC was. I’m qualified; I have skills to share and a reasonable amount of intelligence. I will have to accept it if it doesn’t happen, but I’ve been at it for almost two years now. Almost every decision Keith and I have made in that time has been with this goal in mind. Our lives are very different from what’d they’d be otherwise, and I really don’t know how to begin again or change directions.

Still, I’m grateful beyond words to Roger and Cindy. They weren’t any more prepared for this than we were, but they’ve made me feel welcome and at home. As for everyone else who gave us your good wishes, support and help, We’ll do our best not to let you down.