This may come as a surprise to some of you, but it was a tad easier telling my family that I was moving to Argentina than it was telling them I’m moving to Rwanda. I know, riiiiight? Friends and family all had some concerns as the decision was made somewhat quickly without much concern for “responsibilities”. The biggest concerns were as follows:
Do you have a job? Yes.
Do you have a place to live? No.
Are you subletting your DC apartment? Yes.
Will you have a job when you get back? No. But this blog now serves as my resume, so anyone in international development, read on.
Do you think you’ll ever be happy in one city? That sounds like a 25-year-old Nora problem.
WHY are you doing this? I mean, do you know me at all?
And finally, when can I visit? Anytime, once I get an apartment, of course.
That sums it up, really. When this was just a possibility I decided to tell my parents, rather than waiting, booking my flight and dropping the bomb. I managed to pump them up enough to get the excited about their daughter shipping off for a year. Sidenote: my parents live in Buffalo, NY. Buffalo = the snowiest place on earth. Do having almost an obligation to go to Argentina in the winter, fine by them.
Telling work was actually harder. I had happened to just have been promoted, which includes a raise, company-wide congratulatory email and cupcake party. But, you can’t take back those cupcakes. I deserved those cupcakes.
So, in conclusion, this time around things were easier. I can’t really surprise my parents anymore…the shock and awe factor is gone since Rwanda. Will I ever be able to get it back? Challenge accepted.
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