Some friends and players I didn’t know encouraged me to join their pickup game. (They play until the sun goes down.) After watching for a few minutes, I decided to jump in.

Fifteen minutes into the game, the ball was kicked high into the air towards my direction. My opponent was on the way running at a full sprint. As a defender, my job was to stop him.

I can’t remember if I went for a header or if the ball dropped to the ground and I tried to kick it. Either way, I did stop my opponent in his tracks; both of our thick skulls collided.

He rolled and fell down to the ground a few feet away. I stayed standing and put my hands on the side of my head. We were both in a lot of pain. Players gathered beside us to assess the damage.

The guy who was on the ground got up and slowly walked off the field. I asked if he was okay, and he said he was. Someone told me I was bleeding, and for a split second I didn’t believe them.

I moved both hands off my head and saw my right hand was covered in blood. “Uh-oh”, I thought. Then I felt the blood fall down my face and drip off my chin onto my shirt.

I had been bitten.

“Take off your shirt and put pressure on it”, one older player said. He didn’t understand. I was wearing one of my favorite t-shirts — one I tie-dyed with my favorite colors. If you took the ink blot test, it looks like a skeleton.

Still dazed from the impact, I felt like the people trying to help either thought I was stupid or had a possible concussion. Another man pulled up my shirt and put it over my head. He told me to hold it and apply pressure.

The two guys, along with my friend Greta, stayed with me to talk things over. They asked me questions and decided going to the hospital for stitches was the smartest option. That all changed when I told them I don’t have insurance.

I continued to hold one of my favorite t-shirts, now bloodied and ruined, onto the side of my head. The older man drove me and my friend Greta to my house, which is only a block from the stadium.

When we went inside the house, I took a shower to rinse myself off and carefully clean the big gash on the side of my head. Before doing so, I first looked in the bathroom mirror and saw all the dried blood on my face. It looked awesome.

After taking a nice cold shower and smelling better than before, I had help cleaning the wound. The older man, named Dave, put a lot of pressure with the rubbing alcohol and hydrogen peroxide dipped cloths.

The alcohol hurt like a mother. Though no screams came out of my mouth, I did faintly say, “Owwww” and grunt a few times.

The older man called his wife to ask her about what she thought I should do. One of my roommates came home, and his mom is a nurse, so he called her for advice. And naturally, I contacted my mother to let her know and ask for her motherly advice. Her phone wasn’t on.

We went outside to take a picture of the gash with my camera phone and say goodbye to Dave. I wished a picture had been taken at the stadium, because it looked really cool, like I was attacked by a zombie.

Dave held my shoulders and moved me so the picture would have the right light. I found that to be pretty funny. The picture was taken and sent via text message to my mother.

Before

Then Dave reiterated the options and left. Although Dave was fairly direct and insensitive, he was a great help and for that I am thankful.

My roommate’s mother said I could get an estimate at the hospital, so I decided to go ask if I needed stitches. Greta joined me on the trip to the emergency room.

While I waited for the nurse to see me so she could do damage control, I called my aunt who is also a nurse. The gash was about an inch long and 5-6cm wide. She said I couldn’t wait to get stitches and advised to get them.

One souvenir patient wristband, a twenty minute wait, and a blood pressure test/heartbeat monitor later, the nurse said I would need stitches. She couldn’t say how much it would cost. Ugh. Then she sent me back to the waiting room.

Greta and I continued to wait, but in the meantime joked about zombification and other morbid, hilarious possibilities. The guy was hungry, and I taste good; simple as that.

Twenty minutes later, I got my own room and laid myself on the comfortable bed. The nurse was in and out of the room to have me sign papers and let me know another nurse would be in soon to give the stitches.

Because this was a once in a lifetime visit (knock on wood), I recorded a video of the room with my phone. The video will soon be uploaded to this post.

The nurse, named Amy, came in with overtones of kindness and blunt honesty. In other words, she made me laugh a lot. She is coincidentally from the same hometown as me too.

Before putting in the stitches, she warned me about the shots that came before Sewing 101. They would go directly into the wound. The thought made me cringe, but the actual shots didn’t hurt that bad.

And the stitches themselves didn’t hurt at all. That is, after I requested more shots of anesthesia because I felt the incredibly sharp needle when she first poked it on my skin.

However there was no pain, the pressure felt like it was going to rip away the stitches and my brains would fall out. An exaggeration, yes, but that’s how it felt. And I’d rather have an imagination than be boring.

I had told her about my Peace Corps aspirations and nomination, and she couldn’t understand why I would want to do something like that to myself.

Her last words when she left were the following. “Good luck with the Peace Corps. *pause* Asia? Blechhhh!” I looked at Greta, and we both cracked up. Nurse Amy was such a great person — a fantastic, detail-oriented nurse, and I wouldn’t have wanted any other nurse for that experience.

After

The first nurse came in a few minutes later, had me sign some papers, and prescribed antibiotics “because it was a human bite.”

The night was inexplicably entertaining, yet I was dreading the medical bill that would follow.

Two days later, I called the hospital’s billing office and received the price. It wasn’t too bad. But they said to call back during the middle of the week for the final price; more charges were to be added.

A week later, I went back to the hospital. This time I called ahead to find out how long the wait would be. The ER receptionist said it was steady. I had to work later that afternoon, so I decided to go and waited less than five minutes to see the nurse.

I didn’t receive another wristband, but I did get the standard blood pressure test/heartbeat monitor. The nurse had a very relaxed yet professional manner to him. He said the stitches looked golden.

The nurse also asked if I wanted to keep the stitches. Some people like to keep them, I guess. No, thanks.

All it took was six snips and pulls, and I was done. The entire time from going into the hospital to leaving it took fifteen minutes. Beautiful.

Two days later, I called the hospital’s billing office again. The price was higher than it was the previous week — a lot higher.

The cost of six stitches and labor for the nurses, without insurance, is so high that I’m unsure as to when I will be able to schedule appointments that Peace Corps medical requires. Thus my placement date and even nomination may be changed.

I’m thankful that the injury, though financially devastating, was not too serious and the other guy didn’t get hurt. Side note: Neither of us were at fault, we were just playing a game of soccer.

If Peace Corps is meant to be, then it will happen.

Flags of countries you and I may serve in

The medical packet, I believe, is on its way to my mailbox. Currently, I don’t have any health insurance, as I am past the age of my parents’ coverage and cannot afford it alone. Thankfully though, I’m still a student and will be able to use the university hospital, which doesn’t cost as much as a private practice. That said, I may cough up some extra dough to purchase temporary health insurance, so the important medical checks will be done by people whom I trust. I confide in my previous family doctors more and therefore prefer to err on the side of caution.

The same carefulness is being applied to reading blogs and the building up of expectations for the nominated region. According to Peace Corps, Peace Corps Volunteers (PCVs), and Returned Peace Corps Volunteers (RPCVs), there is a 40-60% chance that your nominated job and/or region and/or date will change. They also say, “That’s Peace Corps.”

So, that’s that. I’ve been officially nominated.

On Friday, I visited a group of friends who are summer interns at a church. We couldn’t agree on a movie to watch, so I took out all of the DVDs from my friend’s CD case, flipped them over, and mixed them up. Prior to this, there were two votes for Pirates of the Caribbean: The Curse of the Black Pearl and two votes for Hotel Rwanda. The last person was indifferent. It must have been fate, because Hotel Rwanda was chosen by another friend who was spun a million times in a circle.

The movie itself was an epic tragedy. I won’t say anything more about the story, for those who haven’t seen it. Don Cheadle does a very good job playing the role of Paul Rusesabagina, manager at Sabena Hôtel des Mille Collines, and carries a convincing African accent. Only once was I taken off guard by a twist in the movie; it’s fairly predictable. That said, the movie is based on the true story and is worth watching for that reason.

Standing outside of hotel in "Hotel Rwanda"

The next day, we all woke up early, so we could serve breakfast to the homeless at St. Charles Church. Before leaving, each of us ate cereal and some fruit. According to the youth pastor at my friends’ church, the breakfast has been going on every Saturday non-stop for over ten years. The people were amazing, and so was the food. My mouth salivates just thinking about it. The breakfast consisted of scrambled eggs, potatoes, ham, sausage, biscuits and gravy, and pancakes with syrup.

The dynamic of personalities was very interesting. Some would say hello, please and thank you, while others would pass through the line without a word. I served the ham and sausage, and placed them vertically against the eggs or potatoes, so there would be room for more food. To my amusement, a fair amount of people would adjust their food so it wasn’t in such close proximity of their eggs and/or potatoes. And some would pick the meat up and put it on top of the other food, so there was even more room.

Afterward, two friends and myself went to the bulk storage room and portioned 6″ of canola and vegetable oil in small soda bottles. Those bottles and other food items are used in the commodity store, which is a free food pantry service to those whom are in need. They are able to choose from a variety of options and provide the food and supplies (e.g., diapers) to their families. From my understanding, there are a lot of these food pantries in Kansas City — to help people get back on their own two feet — which is a wonderful thing.

We returned to my friends’ church, and I took a nap. After the lengthy rest, I said “see you later” to everyone who was still at the church and went to Chipotle. I didn’t eat though; not yet. After waiting outside for my friends, they arrived in a big 15-passenger van and picked me up. We drove across the street to park. Chipotle was giving away free burritos to anyone who rode their bike. So, my friend opened the back doors of the van, and we pulled out four bikes — one for each of us.

After riding to Chipotle, stuffing ourselves with free burritos, and riding back to the van, we went to Sonic for free slushes. My friends went to the KC Royals game the day before, and the Royals hit a home run in the Sonic area of the field, so each ticket for that date gets a free slush. The slushes were extremely syrupy, so we resolved to go to my friend’s house and add some much needed ice and blend them together. After two tries, it was the perfect mix.

At the house, we hung out, talked, and played Dutch Blitz. It was my first time playing, but it was a fairly easy card game to pick up. I have a strong feeling that I’ll be learning a lot of card games if and when I’m a Peace Corps Volunteer. Two out of the four people playing won — not including me — and it was a fun time. Normally, I forget how to play a card game soon after (a day or two), but I can still remember how to play Dutch Blitz, which I first mistook as NFL Blitz for N64 but with players using Dutch accents (ja, chu know?).

Later on in the evening, my friend and I went to his house and took a long nap. (I don’t take as many naps as this post may lead you to believe, really.) We ate some tasty leftovers for dinner, which consisted of pasta, broccoli, asparagus, and yellow tomatoes. We ate outside, because the weather was so nice. Before going to sleep, we spent time and talked to his family, went on Chat Roulette and talked with two young women from Turkey, and watched half of Disney’s Robin Hood. Don’t make fun; it’s an awesome movie.

A few of Robin Hood's admirers and friends

Sunday came, and my friend had made breakfast — pancakes and syrup. New cooking tip: Your pancakes will be more fluffy if you add club soda. Real maple syrup is much better than a store brand like Aunt Jemimah or Log Cabin. After the most important meal of the day, we went to church. None of the songs were familiar, but that never intimidates me, so I sang along. The message was very good too.

After church, we all went to the soccer park and watched my friend’s younger sister play. A friend of mine helped design the signage for the park when she was an intern at an environmental design firm — where she now works full-time. It was very cool to see those in-person. The other team was better with ball handling and passing, but her team ran hard and did their best. Unfortunately, they lost 1-0. No one seemed to be too discouraged and were looking forward to the next game.

In the late afternoon, my friend and I had leftovers again.  For dinner, my friend’s parents made salad, homemade dressing, quinao, and hamburgers on the grill. While they were preparing the food, my friend and I went to Jack Stack in Martin City — arguably the best BBQ in Kansas City — to pick up a whole rack of spare ribs. The best KC BBQ is a close tie with Oklahoma Joe’s, deemed by Anthony Bourdain as one of the “13 Places to Eat Before You Die.”  (If you go to Oklahoma Joe’s, make sure it’s the one located in a gas station.) After the meal, we had strawberries and whipped cream for dessert. Everything was so delicious, and the company was even better. Not to mention we ate outside together as a family.

Oklahoma Joe's BBQ, one of Anthony Bourdain's "13 Places to Eat Before You Die."

An hour or so later, it grew dark, so we threw a light-up Frisbee around for a while. Then we went inside, and talked for a little while. It was late, so I gave hugs and said “see you later”. I don’t like to say goodbye, because there’s a likely chance I’ll see the person later. Plus it’s more hopeful.

The drive home took longer than anticipated, but all was fine. After unpacking the pillow and backpack out of my car, I turned on my computer and filled out the Education Experience form, then e-mailed it to the Education Experience office in D.C. and my recruiter.

Sorry for the tease by writing this post. I’ve written it as a reminder to myself that I can be patient and focus on other things that are important to me. Patience is one on the most difficult things an applicant has to deal with during the application process. So, this is more of a self-confidence booster than anything.

Will I receive a nomination? I promise you’ll find out in the next post.

Sure enough, once my recruiter and interviewer Valerie signed on, more options were available. The setup went smoothly. We could only hear each other’s voice at first because we needed to press the “play” button to allow for the live web cam feed to send. Valerie’s background was a white wall with a Peace Corps flag poster hung behind her. Introductions were made, and the interview began.

The Peace Corps wiki describes the interview as talking with an old friend about why you are joining. My experience was more formal; at least, I felt I needed to be more formal. I was wearing a suit and tie — an ensemble most often donned for weddings and funerals. And the  interview was for a government job, not a local retail surf shop. (We surf the amber waves of grain here in the Midwest.)

Peace Corps interview attire

Valerie asked all of the questions that are listed in the Peace Corps wiki, except for the playground experience question. In place of it, she asked me to tell her about a time when I encountered a rule or law I didn’t agree with or abide by. (Please note that the question listed is not verbatim.) Candidly, I couldn’t think of anything as a direct response.

After discussing the question with her, I noted that I don’t always like what my parents tell me to do, but in the end, I do it because they know better. My parents sometimes let me do things when they can already predict the outcome. Although it’s sometimes hard to face those consequences, I’m thankful for the growing experience. That said, I decided speeding was my answer. Like many people often do, I go a few miles over the limit.

If you haven’t had the interview yet, which is probably why you’re reading this post, be prepared for long pauses as your recruiter types your statements down on their computer. Valerie would at times respond and say “great” or a likeness of the affirming word. She didn’t always though, and that sometimes caused me to be self-conscious about what Valerie thought of my answers. My advice: be yourself.

I won’t review every question from the interview, however I will share my preferences for service. The regions in order of preference are the following: The Pacific Islands, South America, North Africa/Middle East, Africa, Asia, Central Asia, Central America, The Caribbean, and Eastern Europe. With that being said, I stated (truthfully) that I will go anywhere.

In between the formal inquiries, Valerie shared a few of her personal experiences, both current as a recruiter and individual after work who lives “in the ghetto” to be with an international community, and while she served as a Peace Corps Volunteer (PCV) in rural China. She is everything a Peace Corps recruiter should be: kindhearted, personable, hardworking, detailed, an efficient communicator, and easy to talk to. Mad props.

After Valerie asked the mandatory interview questions, she asked if I had any more. Of course I did. One question was taken from an experience a student in my class last semester had when he visited Africa. He was ignored by the people when he wore sunglasses because they were so impersonal. I have transition lenses, so I asked if they would be a problem. The answer: if I receive placement, the packet would cover that type of information.

Note to those who wear glasses: Peace Corps requires you to bring two pairs to the country of service, in case one were to break. Contact lenses are allowed but discouraged, and two pairs of glasses are still required.

Another question I asked was to show Valerie that I have a personality. Peace Corps likes a sense of humor — as should everyone, in my opinion. “Does the evacuation plan include a helicopter ride?” I imagine a thump-thumping Blackhawk landing where red or green smoke has been laid, causing small debris to fly in every which way, and a special forces team jumping out and clearing the area.  The answer was yes; hopefully it wouldn’t have to come down to that scenario, which would be the last resort.

UH-60 Blackhawk landing on extraction point

The final question is one I’m very glad to have asked. “If you’re at liberty to say, what positions are currently open?” Ever so helpful as she is, Valerie opened another software program to see the available options. I am (almost) qualified for Teaching English as a Foreign Language and am also qualified for Community Development. As she had thought, there were positions open for Central Asia and Eastern Europe.

She then asked me which region I wanted. It took less than a second to think about my answer; Central Asia, please. From my preferences, she knew which I would choose but needed to make it official. After those two words were uttered, an official nomination was given — TEFL, Central Asia in March. A nomination! I was so excited and thankful!

But then two things got in the way: my GPA and less than 30 hours tutoring/teaching ESL. Thus the official nomination became unofficial. Valerie wanted to see what my cumulative GPA was because the semester ended only a week ago, and new grades were to be posted. I knew that without a doubt, my GPA was fine. She wanted me to send her the official numbers of my grade once I found out, and I agreed. Also, Valerie said she would send an e-mail to fill out my current and expected Education Experience, so the nomination could happen a.s.a.p.

After around an hour of interviewing with Valerie, we gave our salutations and knew we’d be hearing from each other soon. The nomination was unofficial, but it was something, and I was so happy! So, naturally, I texted and called my family and friends to tell them the great and hopeful news. In the middle of the pomp and circumstance, I checked my grades — they were up, and my GPA was just fine! I then e-mailed Valerie the update and discussed the upcoming recruiting picnic we’ll both be attending.

Will I get enough hours of tutoring/teaching ESL to qualify for an official nomination? Read the next post to find out.

Sources
Peace Corps Wiki  http://www.peacecorpswiki.com/
Peace Corps Wiki – Interview Questions http://www.peacecorpswiki.com/Interview_Questions

Two days before, I had practiced interviewing skills at ones of the local cafes with my friend Danielle, who is a Peace Corps nominee for Asia. She has already gone through the interview process, so her shared knowledge was very valuable.

Danielle and I also discussed challenges that Peace Corps Volunteers (PCV) often face and very rarely face. While doing online research earlier that day, I came upon the tragic yet beautiful story of Catherine “Kate” Puzy. The video made in her memory says it all.

Danielle’s somewhat intimidated by bugs, which there are a lot of almost anywhere in the world, so she and I have tentatively planned a trip to the Insect Zoo on campus. The zoo has giant cockroaches, beetles, scorpions, tarantulas, and other arthropods. Should be interesting.

The cafe was getting ready to close for the night, so we brought the conversation outside. Ned, a recent RPCV in Morocco, was getting off work, so I got his attention before he got to his bike. He talked with us for about an hour, and as always when talking to PCVs or RPCVs, I was really encouraged.

My supervisor let me leave thirty minutes before I was scheduled to get off work, in order to have more time to prepare myself for the interview. The five o’ clock shadow wasn’t going to fly, and I badly needed a shower. Not to mention I needed to move my computer upstairs for a clean background.

At 12:00 PM I clocked out and then pedaled home in the pouring rain. The interview was scheduled for 1:00 PM. I felt rushed, but there was plenty of time.

Since Earth Day of this year, I’ve been taking showers in the dark. It saves energy, there’s no difference if you know where everything is at, and the experience is more relaxing. I recommend it.

On a somewhat related hygienic note, shaving went without a hitch. This isn’t important, but it was mentioned above, so I don’t want to give you the idea that I looked like a pubescent high school male. Also, the shaving cream ran out, and I had just enough to finish, so that was fortunate.

One of my black button-down shirts didn’t go very well with the tie I wanted to wear, so I quickly changed into my dark red shirt that matched better. After further reflection, they looked too similar. That’s all right though, because the interview went well.

How well did the interview go? Read the next post to find out.

Valerie replied via e-mail on Monday and suggested that I finish the application within the next two weeks. She also recognized that I still needed to complete the (minimum) 30 hours of tutoring/teaching English as a Second Language (ESL).

Two days later, after playing phone tag, I received a voice message from Valerie; the deadline had been bumped up to the next day.

I spent all night and most of the next day working on the application, proof-reading, contacting my references, and trying not to pass out. It doesn’t take that long, however a fair amount of time was spent staring at my computer screen like a zombie. The stage must have passed, because a friend of mine in class said I looked pretty good for not having slept.

After the application was sent, I called Valerie to let her know. The message had a personal touch, and it wasn’t one I’d like to remember, though I’m hoping she had a good laugh from its awkwardness.

Later that day, Valerie called to let me know the application went through the review board and passed. She sent me some skill addenda to fill out, and mailed the legal kit. On the same day, two of the three required references completed the recommendation form.

A few days later, the legal kit was in the mailbox, and I was already prepared. I filled out the paperwork, went and got my fingerprints taken, and mailed the letter — all within the same day of receiving the envelope.

Peace Corps legal kit received

Aside: On the same day, after exiting my vehicle before going into the post office, I heard a voice. It said, “Excuse me. Could you give me a ride?” Covered by the shadow of the adjacent building was an older woman who needed a ride. Without hesitation, I said, “Okay. Let me send this off first.” She inquired, “Do you want me to wait in the car?” I didn’t know who she was or her intentions, so I asked her to wait in the shade. Less than five minutes later, the mail was paid for and the woman was in the car. We exchanged names and shook hands. Elvira was very thirsty. She goes to HyVee and gets iced tea at least once a week. She likes to try all four flavors, because after all, there are free refills. During the drive she offered me money for the short trip, but I said her company was enough. And it was. She invited me to enjoy tea with her, and I gladly accepted. Elvira talked to everyone she saw within a radius of 20 feet. Then she left me to finish my drink so she could go shopping. I left with my second refill and went home to e-mail Valerie.

The first class mail took two days for the Peace Corps regional office. Everything was in, except for the third recommendation.

The third reference, who is also my current employer, was on a business trip for a little over a week. I e-mailed her once at the beginning of the week and again at the end of the week. Much to my chagrin, due to my impatience, I also called her and said her recommendation was all that I needed. Yes, it was true, but I felt really annoying and rude.

Around midnight, the third recommendation was completed. It seems a common characteristic of Peace Corps applicants is OCD, and I was on the same boat with the “refresh” button.

Valerie was out of the office for a week. Due to final exams and the excitement of friends graduating, it wasn’t too difficult to be patient for her reply. When she called, I was at work, so I called back during my lunch break, left a voice message, and e-mailed her my availability. She returned my call, replied to my e-mail, and set up the interview.

The interview was set for three days later, which was yesterday. How did it go? Read the next post and find out.

Please note that while each sentence has been declarative, my feelings are absolutely and wholeheartedly exclamatory. I’m especially thankful to my regional recruiter, Valerie, for being so helpful and easy to work with, my references for their recommendations, and my family and friends for being so supportive. Thank you all for your encouragement and prayers.