Letter dated: June 12, 1999 As I begin to prepare for my close of service, I ask myself, what in God's name have I done here in this country, this country that still annoys me to the core of my bones? Have I had any influence whatsoever? Have I learned to adapt and accept people the way they are? Why am I so annoyed? Have I learned anything over the past two years? Didn't I come here to better know other human beings and help them through understanding, cultural sensitivity, and compassion? My whole life I have yearned to understand more. But being here, the more I learn and the more I discover, the more confused I become. Every question leads to another. Why are students as young as fifth grade bribing teachers with alcohol or money for higher grades? Because the teachers accept the bribes. Why do the teachers accept bribes, when this slants education? Because they don't get paid. Why are teachers not getting paid? Because the selfish, deceitful men in power steal government money, build big houses, and buy Mercedes automobiles. Why are these people in power? The questions I produce never end. Sometimes the answers come back in full circle. More often, there are no answers. So I give up on knowledge and understanding of the world and convince myself that I joined the Peace Corps to become a more compassionate person. I know that I must go home to see what I have learned. Truthfully I am frightened to go home, twice as scared as when I embarked on this crazy Peace Corps journey in the beginning. Two years ago I was determined and excited. I was entering a world where I knew nothing and no one, yet the adrenaline flew through me like wildfire. I knew that I would return to the United States, my family and friends, but now I never know when I will return here. No matter what, it will be different. Who will forget me? Who will I forget? For as much as I hate this country, it is special. Its folklore is beautiful, its traditions are heartwarming, and there are individuals in this country who have taught me patience, gratitude, and love. I am sort of caught now. Where do I belong? I am not Moldovan and my values are different. I am very much American, whatever that means-independence, democracy, baseball-but I haven't stepped foot on our soil in over two years now. That may not seem like a very long time, but I have no idea what to expect, less than when I joined the organization. I was slightly fooled when I joined in 1997. In the United States, Peace Corps is romanticized (they don't advertise the corruption). Now, returning home I really don't know what lies ahead of me. I have to build a road, a purposeful one. I know that it won't be easy. At our Close of Service convention we were told, "Those of you who had a hard time adjusting to site in Moldova will have an even harder time readjusting in the United States." I gently hung my head and quietly mumbled, "I...am in...deep...trouble." But I made it through, and I will survive in the states. I realize that life is about learning, questioning, and growing. Maybe I didn't gain as much knowledge, understanding, or compassion as I had wanted to, but one thing is for sure, I gained a heart full of gratitude.