Flirting with the Peace Corps

Yesterday, my placement officer called me for a final evaluation. She said I'd find out if I got an invitation within 10 business days. That was yesterday. Today I got that breath-catching "Application Status Update" email, and I opened it as quickly as my 14.4k modem connection would allow. (About 15 minutes. Sad.) Big blue letters sprawled across the top of the page: "Congratulations! You have been invited to become a Peace Corps Volunteer." YEAH!

I'm not in the clear yet, however. Along with my Invitee packet comes MORE PAPERWORK. (I wonder how many hectares of rainforest fall to the Peace Corps Application Process each year? Interesting paradox.) While I hate doing the paperwork, I think this round should be less taxing than previous bouts. It is also the last hurtle to clear before I am approved for Orientation.

I have to apply for a State Department Passport, which is actually pretty sweet. It will expire 3 months after my service is done, but I wonder what doors will be opened (or closed?) to me in those 3 months. Hm.

I may or may not have to submit more medical/dental work. I severely hope not... I have several thousand dollars in my mouth and body that the Peace Corps required, even when my medical and dental professions told me that they didn't think it was really necessary. Hoops. Bloody, toothy hoops.

I have to submit another letter of intent. I guess this makes sense, but maybe they should realize that if I've stuck with this bloody application thus far, then I must be pretty damn committed. It hasn't been a frolic in the park with skittles and champaign.

They also found it necessary to instruct me to tell my family and friends that I am going. Umm... Actually, now that I think about it, this may have merit. I haven't told my parents about my invitation yet. (Then again, when I told them I was accepted to grad school, I quickly learned what a mistake that was.) Perhaps I'll wait until I have my plane tickets in my hand to let them know. That way there's no grey area in which they can pounce and complicate matters. They don't seem to realize that I'm 24, not 12. I don't claim sage wisdom, but I'm not a complete dolt either. Apparently that's a "parent thing."

I still don't know exactly WHERE I'm going. They seem to want to keep this a secret for as long as possible. My placement officer wouldn't tell me over the phone, nor is it on the website. This information will be included with the Invitee packet I'm due to receive within the next 2 weeks.

But I want to know NOW! ... Breath in, breath out. Patience.