Leaving Comoros

Peace Corps is all about learning to cope with the unexpected, and now my service is ending in a way that I could never anticipated. My mother has cancer, and I am going home to be with her for the time she has left. She is telling that story in her own words, which you can read here.

I will be leaving Comoros almost exactly one year after I arrived here, and it is very difficult to say goodbye to all the people who have become so dear to me. My mother’s condition has highlighted with painful clarity how ephemeral life can be, and while I am profoundly anxious to be with her as soon as possible, I have grateful that her current condition is good enough to allow me the time to more carefully conclude my life in Comoros. I had made a lot of big plans for this new semester and beyond, but instead I’m now wrapping up my work and trying to make the most of my final days in this beautiful country that I have been so fortunate to call home.

It’s hard to put into words all the things that have tied my heart so closely to Comoros, but the sheer breathtaking beauty of this country is one of the greatest. As soon as I step out my front door, I have the green slopes of Mt. Karthala towering over me, with the eye-popping blue of the Indian Ocean just a few minutes walk away, and the oranges and purples of the sublime Comorian sunsets putting on a show every evening. I cannot believe my good luck to have world-class snorkeling just a twenty-minute walk out my front door, and I will never forget the pure joy that I felt when I was out swimming by the village of Ntsaweni with wild dolphins jumping and doing flips all around me. Every place I have visited on each of the different islands has rewarded me with new expressions of nature’s beauty, the memories of which I will cherish forever.

As much as I love the beauty of this place, that’s not what is most responsible for my attachment to Comoros. The people here have done so much to make my time here truly special. It’s easy to talk about how important peace is, but it’s something else entirely to live in a place where it pervades everything so completely. I have walked through every corner of Moroni and all sorts of other towns and villages all around the country, and I have never felt unsafe for even a moment. It’s a rare gift to be so at ease in a capital city, and that comfort comes from not merely the lack of threat, but the active friendliness of the Comorian people. I will never forget a moment early on when one of Comoros’ sudden heavy rainfalls left me stranded on the wrong side of a muddy torrent in my best clothes on the way to deliver a training. Before I could even think to ask for help, two young guys spotted my plight from a distance and immediately came over help, picking up some big stones and wading in to the water to make a row of stepping stones for me to get across. I am always energized by the kindness and joy that so many Comorians display in everything they do.

Of course, it’s the specific people who I’ve formed relationships with who I will miss the most. I cannot say enough about what a joy it has been to teach the brilliant, funny, motivated, talented (and so much more) students of the English department at the University of Comoros. They have inspired me in so many ways, and I feel confident that they will continue to learn and grow to develop into the new generation of leaders that Comoros needs. I have also worked with some amazing English teachers, who work incredibly hard at an under-appreciated task, often without pay, and their motivation to work with me and improve their craft is a testament to their character and dedication.

The work that I have done would not be possible without the support of my fellow Peace Corps volunteers and the amazing staff of Peace Corps Comoros, who are some of the most incredible people that I have ever met. It has been my profound pleasure to not only work with them all, but to have the honor to call them my friends. I also have a lovely host family who have made me feel welcomed and comfortable from the very first day and dear friends from Comoros and elsewhere who have shared in the fun and the challenges of living in this weird and wonderful place. Life in Comoros is difficult in many ways, but the deeply fulfilling work that I have done here is inextricably linked to those same difficulties. I am very sad to be leaving without getting to contribute further to this grand project of development that I have been a part of, but I will remain connected to Comoros and the people who are etched on my heart. While the sun is setting on this chapter of my life, this will be a transition rather than an ending, as Comoros will forever be a part of me.