Tallawah Soon Kom 93: Departure
It’s the day of departure from the United States into Jamaica. The entire staging event in Miami has gone by in one jet-lagged blur. Meeting my cohort has been a surreal experience. For the first time in over a year I am in a room filled with people who aren’t asking me why, who aren’t questioning my decision, who aren’t giving me looks of skepticism or sadness. A mutual unspoken understanding seems to take hold of all of us. For our own reasons we have all put aside our daily comforts, departed from our families, our homelands, and embark together into a lot of unknown. As I look around the room filled with 23 eager volunteers, I wonder who I will walk out of this experience with. I wonder how we will grow and shape each other as a team. Will all 23 of us make it the whole 27 months? This current group of strangers will be the closest thing I have to home, my greatest allies, and my closest comforts. We will share an experience with one another that I know will change our lives forever. As excited and nervous as we all are, those waiting to receive us in Jamaica have been waiting for Peace Corps volunteers for 3 years now. We are the second group of volunteers to enter country post covid. The cohort before us comprised of a humble 6 volunteers.
Our cohort was given the name Tallawah Soon Kom 93. Tallawah is a Jamaican Patois word that means to be strong, fearless, strong-willed, and not to be underestimated. The name my parents gave me at birth holds the same meaning. Kamaehu- strength, firmness of resolution, fixedness of purpose, strong-willed.
Tallawah Soon Kom 93 is composed of agricultural and education volunteers ranging from individuals like myself who are fresh out of undergraduate, to retired couples, and return Peace Corps volunteers (RPCV). While I reflect on my own send off from Hawai’i I am flooded with the sweetest memories. The amount of aloha I have been given will fuel me for a lifetime. Hawai’i has filled my glass to the brim, and I yearn to share those waters of aloha with others around me- even overseas. Just like the first manu who flew to the rocky, uninhabited shores of a new island chain was a carrier for seeds and bugs, I feel like a carrier for small seeds that I hope to bring ashore to my new island home.
Each member of our cohort was given red yarn to tie around our bags. Each Peace Corps volunteer (PCV) will receive a color yarn during their time of service as an identification tool. If you see a colored yarn tied to someones luggage you could be looking at a PCV or RPCV. Red- the color of our cohort, and a color I have been averse to my whole life. I tied my piece of yarn around my backpack and took a step back. Right in front of me, were two commitments that I had made. One to my past, and one to my future. The first- a Ti lei from my beloved, shows me every corded piece of love and strength that I carry from home in a never-ending loop. A promise to come back safely, a green halo of protection. The second- a new brightly colored commitment of my service to come. I am filled with hope and excitement for what awaits me in Jamaica. The next 3 months will be an intense training period in which I will be stationed in the parish of St. Mary’s, living with my first host family, and attending daily classes on language, culture, safety, and job training.
Although our cohort is still in the “honeymoon” phase of training, I do feel very comfortable here. Although lots has changed around me, it can easily feel like nothing at all when I see familiar faces of ti and crown flower,. that make me excited to share the gift of lei with those around me. The juxtaposition running through my mind of O’ahu and Jamaica is never-ending. On one hand, I think that I have brought in a fairly composed framework into my training that will serve me well. On the other hand, I cannot help but think that I should attempt to create some mental separation between the two. I suppose it is something I have never, and will never be able to remove from myself. I am glad about this.
Two things excite me the most at this point. The first is the thought of undergoing metamorphosis. Working on the land is the most transformative work one can do. Through our actions, we not only shape the land, but thereby shape ourselves. The second is imagining that my family will grow and I will be rooted with a love for a new island. In both of these thoughts there is deep pain and satisfaction. Within the last year I feel that I have been on journey around the world learning, creating relationships, and exploring the concept of mālama honua. Is it possible for me to care for the rest of our world as I care for Hawai’i?
I originally thought I would be posting a blog once a month, but am now realizing that I will not be following this schedule. The only commitment I will be making to the blog is one to my own emotions and needs. This could manifest itself in weekly all the way to far and few posts. The purpose of Sincerely, M is to not only process and document my own feelings and experiences, but to share with my family and friends this journey that you are all on with me. I know that I do not move alone, and I have not gotten to this point solely by myself. I know that my victories will be celebrated by many, as well as harder feelings to come. It is not a burden to hold in mind other people affected by my actions, but an honor to carry so much love and responsibility with me. My hope is that through these words and pictures, which will fall short in conveying the gravity of my gratitude and joy, that you all can feel a sense of peace and perhaps even excitement. All my love.
