First Post!!

So here it is.  What you’ve all been waiting for, wrapped up into one neatly packaged website - the entire story, from beginning to now.  This is my new weblog on how I joined the Peace Corps and everything that has happened since.  This first entry is just a backlog of events that have gotten me up to the present, covering about a year of history, so it is a good deal longer than most of my future entries will be.  This is just for those of you who have no idea what I’ve been up to for the last year.  Also, keep in mind that once I get abroad, updates will be fewer and further between.  For now though, this little blog site should answer all your pressing questions, including “What are you doing?” and “Really? Are you insane?”  Hopefully, I can answer the first question fairly well, and the answer to the second will be determined with time.  For now though, just sit back, get yourself a nice little cocktail, plug in your favorite West African pop record and enjoy the beginning of the serialization of the Mali-bound life of Jacob “The Jakeman” Morris Asher

It was coming, as it did every year, like a tremendous tidal wave, starting small in the distance, but growing ever closer and ever larger, until it would inevitably reach the shore and swallow me up, pulling me into its maw and dragging me down into the bowels of the beast called “Responsibility.”  Yes, summer was approaching, and with it, the need to find myself a job.  I told myself, “Jake, this summer, you’re not gunna screw around.  You’re gunna find yourself a nice respectable position that you would be proud to show any future employer so that you can show off just what a jaw-droppingly fine candidate you intend to be for whatever it is you’re trying to con them into thinking you can do.”  Of course, I didn’t even know where to start looking.  My previous summer occupations had included among them such illustrious positions as summer camp counselor, door-to-door canvasser, and even a janitor on a couple of occasions.  This summer, however, was going to matter.

As I delved deep into the information portal of the Internet, I began to find a few intriguing options.  I was looking for something that was meaningful, and related to the type of human-service and aid careers I would later want to pursue following graduation.  There were a lot of non-profit jobs and internships that I could apply for, and this summer was the first time I was getting a nice, early start on the job hunting, so I would be well-positioned to tear the competitive job market a new one.

As I began to look into it, there was one prospect that seemed a step more appealing than all the rest.  I knew the Peace Corps was going to be coming to Binghamton’s campus for the job fair and to hold information sessions, and from a cursory look at the website, I was beginning to grow excited.  Here was a job, paid for and organized by the U.S. government, that would allow me to travel outside of the country, doing some important work, and it would lead to one hell of a summer for me.  That all sounded fantastic until I actually looked a bit harder at the website.  The Peace Corps does not do summer.  They don’t do school vacations at all.  It’s also virtually useless to apply without having a college degree already.  And the real kicker?  It was a two-year commitment.  Well, so much for an exciting summer plan.

But wait!  I’ll have a degree by halfway through 2008.  And this whole crazy idea of going to work in another country, with everything I need provided by Uncle Sam, might just be worth looking into.  I did some investigating, looking into the logistics of the program and over the next few months, found out everything else I needed to know.

Finally, the phone call: “Hey Mom…I’m good…So guess what?  I’ve decided I’m going to apply to the Peace Corps after I graduate…I don’t know why yet, it just seems like a good idea…I’ll justify it later…Why should I be careful when I tell Dad?…Well does his friend still have the parasite?…Oh, I see.  Well I’m pretty sure I want to do it anyway…”  I had barely begun to think about the idea and I was already getting dire warnings of “I had a friend who was a Peace Corps Volunteer.  He still hasn’t recovered.”  But in my typical fashion of not worrying about consequences of my stupid actions until they’re already upon me, I went online and applied.

 

Getting really fun and crazy ideas in your head is one thing.  Going through with them is another.  And justifying your willingness to go through with them to yourself, and to those who determine whether to accept you or not, is quite another thing altogether.  And spending a week filling out an endless online application form is, for lack of a better term, a royal bloody pain in the keester.  But there I was, at the start of the application, and I had to figure out how to explain in the most convincing way possible why I really wanted to dedicate two years of my life to a foreign country at the severe risk of life, limb and sanity.

After much thinking, brainstorming, and practicing on anyone who asked me about it, here is the formal list of reasons why I decided to apply to the Peace Corps:

*I need to get out of this place.  My whole life has been surrounded by rich, white, suburban Jews.  Granted, Binghamton gave me a healthy dose of diversity, but only just enough to realize that when it comes down to the basics, Americans tend to be essentially the same.  Especially New Yorkers.  Yeah yeah, take as much offense as you want and cry about how we’re all precious and unique, but aside from a few differences in wealth, personality, and interest, the people I’ve known in my life have mostly fit into the same cultural molds and niches, and everything starts to blend together after a while.  In short, I need to escape America and find something truly exotic.

*I need to do something useful.  Sure, I’ve made friends, given charity, volunteered, and brightened the lives of just about everyone I come in contact with through my lovable charm, wit and of course, humility.  But here I am, living in one of the wealthiest nations on Earth, in one of its more affluent societies, with a relatively good education, and what am I doing with my privilege? Nothing.  I’ve been squandering all the gifts I’ve been given, and while anyone with a free Sunday can do some community service, not everyone really does, and certainly not on as massive a scale as I’m interested in.  Going to one of the poorest countries in the world sounds like just what I’m interested in.

*Let’s be honest: it’s one hell of a cool vacation and a lot more interesting than some study abroad program in a school that’s full of Americans anyway.

*I don’t really know quite what I want to do with my life yet.  I know, I should be on some track by now, and I do have some sense of direction.  Hopefully, the Peace Corps will focus my sense of direction a little more - and give me an extra two years before I have to make any real decisions.

*I can help make sure that American tax dollars are going somewhere useful for a change.  Like buying me new socks!

            That is a general list of reasons I came up with for myself, my curious friends, and of course the lady who interviewed me after my application was submitted.  Apparently it was a good enough list for her to submit my nomination to the Washington headquarters and launch me into the next phase of the acceptance process.

 

What followed over the course of the next several months was a long series of medical visits, paperwork, having my wisdom teeth pulled (one of the more unpleasant days of my life, but thank the Good Lord for codeine), and what seemed like endless waiting.  Finally, on the first day of Passover, I got a package.  I already knew what it meant, based on the size and heft of it, and as I eagerly ripped it open, I could literally feel my heart speeding up, beating so tremulously, it made my hands quake.  I carefully pulled out the first piece of paper I saw, and read it aloud to my dog, who was kind enough to be the only one home to congratulate me.  I don’t recall the exact wording, but it was something to the effect of: Congratulations dude! You’re going to Mali! In three months!

After that, things began to move much more quickly, and a few more medical visits, a lot more paperwork, and much research into everything I could find out about Mali, its culture, languages (French and Bambara, both of which I need to learn from scratch), and lifestyle, the departure date began to close in on me more intensely than ever.

And that brings us up to today.  Since school ended, I have been working daily on learning French, creating packing lists, cleaning up my room (maybenot) and seeing as many friends as I can pack into my final weeks in the country.  I have until July 7^th to have everything that needs taking care of dealt with, and then I begin the official national Mali orientation in the distant city of Philadelphia (it’s okay, the Peace Corps pays for my transportation there).  That’s about all that has been going on up until now.  I will probably update this blog a few more times before I leave for Mali, and after that, who knows?  Feel free to shoot me emails ore respond to this blog.  In fact, please do!  That way, I’ll know that people are actually reading this, and home won’t seem quite as far away.  Meanwhile, I’ll see you next update,

~Jake