It's going down

Back when we were just hearing whispers of Americans being denied visas to come here, PCVs speculated all kinds of possible outcomes. Of course, we hoped (and frankly, assumed) that in the end our new class would be granted their visas, and training would go on as planned. We also toyed with crazier ideas -- what if we all get sent home? What if we get offered a new assignment? But we agreed that the most difficult thing would be if our training class got canceled, AND the rest of us were expected to stay here.

Turns out there was one scenario still tougher than that.

These past 10 or so days have been a whirlwind, roller coaster time of confusion. We started hearing of some nebulous threats to Americans, but truthfully I felt (and still feel) perfectly safe. In the midst of that, due to continued difficulties with visas and the somewhat uncertain political situation here, our training class was officially canceled. Up to this point, Peace Corps had been hoping just to postpone the class until after elections July 18th, but now all those applicants are receiving new placements in other countries.

The blow was devastating, heartbreaking. I was in my village, and I learned the news from various phone calls and text messages. For the next day or two, I lived in what I termed a "waking coma." I had absolutely no motivation to do anything. No new volunteers. No new blood. No one with whom to share our hard-earned wisdom. I went through my calendar and crossed out essentially all my plans for July and August. We will not be hosting newbies in Boghé for Site Visit (when they get to see their future homes for the first time -- a really emotional and exciting time). I won't be helping at Model School or other Q&A training sessions. And there will be no swear-in, around which I specifically had planned my vacation.

I wanted to just dust myself off and say, yes, this is unfortunate, but things change and you need to make a new plan. But how could I when I felt like I didn't have any idea what was going to happen? There were so many rumors still floating around that maybe all PCVs would be leaving, or being re-assigned, or who knows. No one had any answers. In the days following that news, I jumped every time I heard my phone sound, because I thought at any moment I was going to get word that I should pack up and leave.

Thursday, Friday, Saturday, Sunday, Monday. I went through life in a daze, slowly-so-slowly coming to terms with this new reality.

Then Tuesday, crash.

Our country director officially announced the offer of "interrupted service." What this means is essentially two choices: stay and finish as planned, or leave early with the full benefits of having completed your two years of service. If you go home, you can opt to be done with Peace Corps, or you can re-apply for a new assignment.

I had had a lot of time to think, and I knew what I wanted. I'm not ready to leave yet. I'm excited about my classes next year, I adore the kids in my English Club, I feel like I finally know Pulaar, I have an amazing host family, and it took me this long just to understand how things work in this country. I know where to buy things, I know how to go places. I want to stay.

But everyone's situation is different, and there are many PCVs who are choosing to leave. They each have their reasons, and I respect them. But that doesn't make it any easier as I'm hearing, one by one, the names of other volunteers who have given their official notice. It looks like they will all be out of the country within two weeks, some sooner. My dear friend Yates leaves Boghé in five days. She was planning to visit my village next week, and she has care packages on their way here for her birthday. I got a phone call from Summer, who announced, "I'm just calling to say goodbye." Because her site is so far away, I will not even get to see her before she goes. So much is changing so fast.

At the beginning of June, Peace Corps Mauritania numbered about 130 volunteers. Between the second-years finishing, the cancellation of our new class, and the group choosing interrupted service, my best estimation is we may be left with less than 50 by the end of this month. At least 13 Girls' Mentoring Centers across the country now have no PCVs assigned to them. There will unquestionably be a nationwide shortage of English teachers. Financially, too, there will be strain on all of us -- those who are left to pick up the pieces.

Could use your support and prayers. Don't know what else to say.