I remember as a child whenever I couldn’t get a new toy, I would whine, “I wish I were rich. Then, we could buy it.” My mother and grandmother would look at me and tell me to re-evaluate my definition of being rich. They said that richness can come in many forms. The corniest one of all is, “richness in the heart, where you are full of the love given by family and friends.” Naturally, they received the biggest eye roll a child could give. At the time, they weren’t getting any love with that response.

 

 

Now, as an adult, I have to agree with their definition. I’m probably going to impart that same “corny and lame” definition to my future children. I’m assuming, but I think we can all agree that there is truth to their definition. However, how many of us would still chase after the traditional sense of being rich- you know, the one with money? A year into service, I don’t think I will be chasing massive “traditional wealth” any longer. However, I will not deny that I would like to live comfortably. Basically, I want to be able to take modest vacations once a year and live in a small house that I own. In essence, I would like to be solidly middle class.

During service, I have a lot of positives and negatives moments just like any other person. However, in the Peace Corps, the lows tend to go a little deeper than an average person in America. Caveat, pain is all relative. For instance, my Georgian neighbors do not think it is a bad day if their water runs out as well as their electricity, internet, and gas. They just deal with it because that is their daily life. However, in the beginning of my service, that would be a bad day for me. Why? Because I never had to deal with all things going out concurrently in the United States (if I paid my bills that is). My definition of a bad day means so different than a year ago.

During my Peace Corps mid-service training last month, when I turned on the hot water in the shower at the hotel, it did not work. Instead of fussing with the nozzle or getting irritated, I just took a REALLY cold shower. I got used to things not working that I did not even try to fix it. Low and behold, if I turned the nozzle to the cold end and waited, hot water would have appeared. My mistake. I should have tried to outplay the engineering of the bathroom design. This insignificant experience shows you something though, I no longer get frustrated over the little annoying things in life. I just move on and deal with the “bad.” I only discovered that the water indicators were switched after conversing with my fellow Peace Corps Volunteers who experienced the same thing. I have gotten to the point now that when I do have the perfect shower temperature, I have a great day. Little things like that make me ecstatic.

Therefore, if hot showers make me happy, imagine how grateful I am for having friends and family visit me. As you already know, my great-uncle visited in February and my friend Sarah visited me in April. In July, I had four different people visit me. My friend Nicole, one of my closest friends since I was 14 years old, came for nearly three weeks. My friend Tim, from my study abroad experience in Amsterdam, came from England. Then, my aunt and uncle from my dad’s side came for a weekend at the end of July. Then, my friend Danielle visits me a month later. I don’t know anyone as fortunate to have this many people visit them during their Peace Corps. Thus, I feel rich that I have so many people in my life supporting me in this journey that they are willing enough to take a plane to this part of the world.

In terms of the love and support I receive, I am very rich. It does not take much for me to remember this either. Every day, in my town, I see children begging for money. I see old ladies sitting on street corners outstretching their hand for some spare change. There are a lot of street dogs and cats. I do have the hardest time with seeing the children and the dogs.

For children, I cannot imagine growing up and being ignored by everybody or even worse, being treated worse than an animal. The street children are shoved and kicked out of restaurants. The children do harass the customers. Sometimes, the children even wrap their bodies around unwilling customers’ legs. I just cannot even imagine the psychological damage, the abuse, and the neglect they grow up with. The silver lining is that I’ve traveled to countries were situations for street children is much worse. There are organizations, including mine, that works to help alleviate child poverty and advocate for children’s rights.

I cannot say so much for the cats and dogs. One day, as I was walking home from work, I heard the loudest cries I’ve ever heard around the corner from my house. I turned to see where the noise is coming from and I saw a dog limping and yelling. One of its hind legs was nearly severed. The dog was limping and one of its legs was hanging on by a thread. A pool of blood was underneath where it was standing. I assumed that the dog was run-over by a car. In those few minutes, I have no idea if anyone helped the dog. I’m not perfect either, I was so horrified that I walked away crying. I was not able to stomach the sight. For the next 30 minutes, I heard the dog yell in pain and I simply prayed.

In America, I would have gone to the dog and called someone. I had no idea what to do in Georgia, so I simply prayed and hoped it wouldn’t suffer for too much longer. On a positive note, Georgia is trying to take care of its stray dogs as much as they can. Nearly all of the stray dogs have received rabies shots and it is indicated by a tag on their ear. Also, many people feed these dogs with bread or scraps of food. There is still hope in this world.