Discernment and Decisions

It is with much disappointment that we write today to share that we have decided to end our Peace Corps service early. For some, this may come as a surprise; for others that have been part of the discernment process with us, this is a long time coming. Shortly after making our painful decision, I was reminded of a camping trip we took in 2012 that slightly mirrors our Peace Corps experience.

That year, my job in the wedding industry left me with few free weekends. Camping has been something Pete and I have loved for many years, but it was hard to do when our weekends were frequently full. One spring day, we recognized that we had a free weekend and fair weather ahead of us, and we decided to take advantage of it. On Saturday morning, we packed up the car with our tent and sleeping bags, trail mix and dog. The trip meant we would miss a birthday party for a friend who had been living abroad in Mexico for a year, but we decided we needed the outdoors too much to pass up the opportunity.

We drove west to Lake Mineral Wells, stopping on the way to pick up more camping snacks (marshmallows!) and firewood. We were as prepared as we could be when we pulled up to our car-camping spot. Sure, it was already 90 degrees in the late morning sun, but we were too enthusiastic to care. We put the pup on his leash and headed for the trails.

But when we arrived at the hiking trails, we found that the park rangers had blocked them off. A posted sign read that the trails were closed due to recent heavy rains. It hadn't rained in a few days, though, and the trails looked good from the trailhead, so we decided to give it a try. Within 10 minutes, our shoes were sticking to the mud. A half hour in, and we were carrying our pup over our heads while wading through ankle-deep water.

Defeated, we turned around and headed for our tent. Without access to the trails, our camping weekend was looking pretty bleak. But we were there! We had made the time, grabbed the s'mores kit, and we wanted to enjoy the chance to be outdoors. Drops of sweat slipped down our faces, and I honestly can't remember who said it first: "Maybe we should go home."

It felt taboo to say that, to acknowledge that going home was even a possibility. If we went home, we would be giving up on our camping weekend and wasting the work that we had put into making it happen. And we would be disappointed: in the experience, in ourselves. But we would also make it back in time to attend our friend's birthday party: a Mexican-food feast attended by those we love most. We debated for a bit, but eventually we decided to pack up the tent, put the dog in the car, and drive east to the enchiladas. Over cheesy tacos and conversations with dear friends, we accepted that the return was the right decision. For us.

A camping weekend is such small potatoes compared to applying for, preparing for, and joining the Peace Corps. The stakes are so much higher here, and our decision affects so many more people. The pain of goodbye stings so much more after you've been welcomed so kindly. But some similarities exist.

We poured our hearts into our Peace Corps application process, and we rearranged so many aspects of our lives to take advantage of the opportunity to live abroad. We prepared as much as we could all the while knowing that we would be leaving many good things behind.

But many aspects of our experience have simply been out of our control. Like the closed trails, our closed work-space meant that we haven't been able to do what we came here to do. This lack of meaningful work, combined with the challenges of daily life in a new culture, has worn on us. It was nearly 6 months ago that those words were first uttered: "Maybe we should go home." Through much intentional discernment, we've finally decide to return.

Our difficult decision calls to mind a song that provided much comfort to us as we were leaving for Morocco.  The song, All Will Be Well by The Gabe Dixon Band, gently reminds us:

The new day dawns
And I am practicing my purpose once again
It is fresh and it is fruitful if I win
But if I lose

I don't know
I'll be tired but I will turn and I will go
Only guessing till I get there then I'll know

I will know

We will return to the United States shortly, though we hope to share more about our experiences in Morocco. Our friends in our town were incredibly supportive our of decision (as was Peace Corps), and they made our last week there memorable in so many ways. So keep checking the blog for photos of farewell couscous parties and the rug that Fatima made us. In the meantime, thank you for supporting us in countless ways. Your emails and care packages have carried us through the tough days, and we are grateful.

Look for us around a plate of enchiladas.

Love, Britt and Pete

Our last dinner with our host family.  For a little while, at least.

January in Morocco

We returned from Europe to a positive change in our town: the water works 24 hours a day!  In response to drought, the water had been shut off every night around 5pm and turned back on around 6am.  This started back in July, and we adapted as well as we could.  But, now, this means lukewarm showers anytime of the day.  Plus, we were able to start doing our dinner dishes at night instead of the next morning.  Fun, fun, fun!

Changes are coming, and we will fill you in on them soon.  In the meantime, take a peek into the past few weeks of life in small-town Morocco:

Britt and the girls.

Pete and the boyz.

Msmen parties

Enjoying the view

Watching our friends create (photo of completed rug to come!)

Henna party (photo of competed henna to come!)

Finding friends in Marrakech

Our town at dusk.

City of Lights, City of Lines

It was hard to get on a train and leave our friends in Germany.  But Ursula packed us a travel bag full of sandwiches and goodies, and soon enough we were on our way to Paris.  Along with everyone, everyone else.

I underestimated the crowds that would descend on Paris the week between Christmas and New Year.  I thought that the cold and rain might deter tourists.  Instead, we found them at every corner.  Even with our super nifty Paris Museum Pass, and even though we arrived at most museums before they officially opened for the day, we spent as much time in line for most museums as we did in the actual museum.

But we were in Paris.  Paris!  We rented in apartment for the week in Montmartre, and it was our little refuge each evening after a cold day of exploring.  Sure, we had to get up b 6:45 each morning to secure a place in line at the Louvre or the Orsay.  But at night, we could stroll through lovely Montmartre before making ourselves a dinner of cheese.  The Sacre Coeur became our church for the week as it was just a quick walk uphill from the apartment.  Here are some photos from our trip:

The Louvre

The backside of Notre Dame: much less crowded than the front!

Beautiful stained glass of Sainte-Chapelle

The Sacre Coeur at night

The best part about having a whole week in Paris was having time explore other parts of the city besides the big museums.  On New Year's Eve, we headed to Versailles---- along with everyone else.  After waiting in line outside for two hours in freezing rain, this is what it looked like:

The crowds, bordering on manic, pushed us through the palace.  Mostly, I saw the back of Pete's head, the top half of large pieces of art, and the ornate ceilings.  And while Versailles has beautiful gardens, the freezing rain limited our ability to enjoy the outdoors.  Le sigh.  Next time.

We also had enough time to explore something I've been itching to see: the Catacombs!  The spooky underground lair of bones was a first for both of us.

And, since bones aren't spooky enough, we also spent time wandering through Paris' beautiful cemeteries. 

Pete had just finished reading The Count of Monte Cristo.

  

We also found, just down the street from where we were staying, the church that St. Ignatius of Loyola first took his vow of poverty and announced the beginning the Society of Jesus.

In addition to touring churches and museums and catacombs, we also ate a lot of macarons.  So. Many. Macarons.

We rang in the new year at Sacre Coeur, happy to have each other but missing you all terribly.

Happy New Year, bonne année, سنة سعيدة!