Why

I have wanted to join the Peace Corps ever since I was 23 years old. I remember clear as day checking out a tome titled "So You Want to Join the Peace Corps" from the university library. In addition to promising the experience of a lifetime, it described a two-year long application process. That alone told me I wasn't ready.

I spent another six years of growing up. I turned 29. I got married. Three days after the ceremony Cat and I closed up our apartments and moved to Hawaii. Instead of a permanent address we moved to a new location every eight weeks as part of an extended WWOOFing tour. Instead of steady jobs we worked for free.

It was a bold move, but carefully considered. No, we didn't have any definite plans upon return but we had plenty of ideas. Chief among those? Peace Corps.

I turned 30. We applied. We got in. We were told that since we had only been married six months that we would have to wait another six months, at least.

But then my beautiful and talented wife got a job good enough to pay off our nagging student debt so we put PC on hold. But we never stopped talking about it. Years went by as we talked until finally, debt done paid, we applied again. We got in. We are here. I'm now 36.

So, why?

They ask you on the application. I told the truth but you know how those things are. The boundaries of acceptable explanation are so narrow that it forces your story into another shape. But here in this little read space I am free to say as I like so long as I don't make PC look bad, which I can't imagine doing since I love almost everything about this experience.

So, why?

Cat and I talked about it on the podcast but I don't remember much of what I said except for one phrase: "It's the best thing that one does."

Sometimes, when I submit my resume I wonder if the recipient will have an easy time understanding what it's all been about. To me, the guy who lived it, there are two common threads that connect all my various employments, including volunteer farming:
1. Work at understaffed, under organized, underfunded, o sea, "underdeveloped" organizations.
2. Work that involves trying to help people in some capacity.

These are the two things that I seem to be good at: making do with dysfunction and trying to do good in the midst of the mess. I cannot think of a better description of Peace Corps work.

So, I appear to be cut out for it. But why did I decide to do it?

I can only explain that I had a nagging sense that I wouldn't be "done" if I didn't join PC. During the lengthy application process I asked a mentor of mine to serve as a reference. He didn't hesitate, even though my departure would leave him in a lurch. He said: "I've always regretted not joining Peace Corps." He's 70.

So, I wanted to avoid regrets later in life. But what did I want to get from the experience?

That I can answer easily without (further) long-winded introspection. At 34, when I applied again, I distinctly remember wanting the following:

• To learn to speak Spanish √
• To get the hell out of the city √
• A break from the Rat Race √
• "Adventure," in all its ambiguity √
• Experience another culture long-term, from the inside √
• Make new friends √
• Find more depth in my marriage √
• More time to write √
• Get away from the internet and constantly being "plugged in"
• Learn to dance
• Live more low tech, more lightly on the land √
• Discover new depths to my spiritual practice  √
• Help people who need it √
• Have more time to stretch, exercise and do the things necessary to care for my weekend warrior injuries √
• Broaden my professional horizons √
• Do things that scare me √
• Make some kind of sustainable difference
• Have a garden

The check marks mean what you think they do. As for the unchecked items, well, it's been been over a year since I arrived in country and nearly a year since we arrived to our permanent community. Which is to say I have just over one year left.

There's still time.