Finally! I have been waiting for weeks to get a response letter back from my internship application with Blessing the Children International. It came today.
"After reviewing your application, we are excited to inform you [that] you have been accepted for a social work internship position."
The summer before last, my youngest sister and I went to Debre Zeyit, Ethiopia, to spend two weeks working with a school and foster care program for orphans. It. Was. Awesome. No, seriously, it was awesome. Two weeks was a good amount of time for a first trip. It was not enough time to get completely immersed, or to feel like any project we started would be long-lasting (except perhaps the sponsorship project we became a part of which culminated in several children getting sponsored by American families once we returned to the U.S.) It was, however, enough time to fall in love with the kids, the social workers, and the church families with whom we spent time. It was enough time to know that we needed to go back there "one of these days."
This past summer, my sweet friend Jessica took a team to work with the same organization and the same kids. I did not go. I was insanely jealous. I'd like to say that "I'm not the jealous type" but that wouldn't be true. I feel envious quite a lot, actually. Sometimes I am envious that my sisters get to spend a lot of time together and are making these wonderful memories that, as The Oldest Sister Who Moved Away, I don't get to be a part of. (Please excuse my dangling participle.) (When I type 'dangling participle,' I feel like I'm saying something dirty.) Sometimes I am envious of my friends who have doting husbands or boyfriends who say nicer things to them than my mirror says to me. Sometimes I am very jealous of the women who can snack on M&Ms and regular coke all day at their desks and never gain a pound. (Don't try to tell me they don't exist. I know them, although through no fault of their own they are not my friends.)
I digress. Jessica went to Ethiopia. I did not go. I was very jealous. I was also a bit heartbroken, which felt strange to me because typically my coveting others' experiences does not involve heartbreak. It mostly just involves wanting to stomp my feet a little and then telling myself to suck it up and having a glass of pinot grigio while watching You've Got Mail and reminding myself that I don't have to do anyone else's laundry so life isn't all bad. That typically cures what ails me.
So when the heartbreak happened, I decided going back to Ethiopia sooner rather than later would be a good plan. Then I reminded myself that I'm an Adult with a Real Job that doesn't include paid time off for mission work, nor would my supervisors look fondly upon my request for unpaid leave to flit off to Africa for a bit. I decided it was best that I just sit back and wait until I had a Sign that told me it was time to go back. Did I say that at this time my youngest sister had recently been accepted to do a six week internship in the summer of 2013 with Blessing the Children? Well, she had.
Upon my Quitting My Job and becoming a nanny through May 2013, I realized that I had some freedom, which included the ability to flit off to Africa for a bit. I applied for an internship myself, knowing that I would have school work to do while there, but also knowing that online classes and a flexible internship would make it easy for me to schedule a few hours for school each week, and I could organize my class schedule so that I would have just one class while in Ethiopia.
The rest is history. Or future, I suppose. I applied for a social work internship, asking for approval to provide counseling services to the BCI program's orphaned children and their caregivers. Three weeks later, I got the acceptance letter in the mail and my sister and I started brainstorming fundraising ideas, since, as broke college students, neither of us can actually afford a 6-week internship overseas. We will make it happen, though. Who says it's impossible to raise $4,500 each in 9 months? It's not. Right? ...Of course not.
Besides, at what other point in my life will 6 weeks in Ethiopia just slide easily into my grand life schedule? None other time. I'm going.
"After reviewing your application, we are excited to inform you [that] you have been accepted for a social work internship position."
The summer before last, my youngest sister and I went to Debre Zeyit, Ethiopia, to spend two weeks working with a school and foster care program for orphans. It. Was. Awesome. No, seriously, it was awesome. Two weeks was a good amount of time for a first trip. It was not enough time to get completely immersed, or to feel like any project we started would be long-lasting (except perhaps the sponsorship project we became a part of which culminated in several children getting sponsored by American families once we returned to the U.S.) It was, however, enough time to fall in love with the kids, the social workers, and the church families with whom we spent time. It was enough time to know that we needed to go back there "one of these days."
This past summer, my sweet friend Jessica took a team to work with the same organization and the same kids. I did not go. I was insanely jealous. I'd like to say that "I'm not the jealous type" but that wouldn't be true. I feel envious quite a lot, actually. Sometimes I am envious that my sisters get to spend a lot of time together and are making these wonderful memories that, as The Oldest Sister Who Moved Away, I don't get to be a part of. (Please excuse my dangling participle.) (When I type 'dangling participle,' I feel like I'm saying something dirty.) Sometimes I am envious of my friends who have doting husbands or boyfriends who say nicer things to them than my mirror says to me. Sometimes I am very jealous of the women who can snack on M&Ms and regular coke all day at their desks and never gain a pound. (Don't try to tell me they don't exist. I know them, although through no fault of their own they are not my friends.)
I digress. Jessica went to Ethiopia. I did not go. I was very jealous. I was also a bit heartbroken, which felt strange to me because typically my coveting others' experiences does not involve heartbreak. It mostly just involves wanting to stomp my feet a little and then telling myself to suck it up and having a glass of pinot grigio while watching You've Got Mail and reminding myself that I don't have to do anyone else's laundry so life isn't all bad. That typically cures what ails me.
So when the heartbreak happened, I decided going back to Ethiopia sooner rather than later would be a good plan. Then I reminded myself that I'm an Adult with a Real Job that doesn't include paid time off for mission work, nor would my supervisors look fondly upon my request for unpaid leave to flit off to Africa for a bit. I decided it was best that I just sit back and wait until I had a Sign that told me it was time to go back. Did I say that at this time my youngest sister had recently been accepted to do a six week internship in the summer of 2013 with Blessing the Children? Well, she had.
Upon my Quitting My Job and becoming a nanny through May 2013, I realized that I had some freedom, which included the ability to flit off to Africa for a bit. I applied for an internship myself, knowing that I would have school work to do while there, but also knowing that online classes and a flexible internship would make it easy for me to schedule a few hours for school each week, and I could organize my class schedule so that I would have just one class while in Ethiopia.
The rest is history. Or future, I suppose. I applied for a social work internship, asking for approval to provide counseling services to the BCI program's orphaned children and their caregivers. Three weeks later, I got the acceptance letter in the mail and my sister and I started brainstorming fundraising ideas, since, as broke college students, neither of us can actually afford a 6-week internship overseas. We will make it happen, though. Who says it's impossible to raise $4,500 each in 9 months? It's not. Right? ...Of course not.
Besides, at what other point in my life will 6 weeks in Ethiopia just slide easily into my grand life schedule? None other time. I'm going.
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