'If the world was perfect, it wouldn't be." --Yogi Berra

Lately I’ve been highly reminiscent of baseball. It’s been sunny and breezy the last few days, and I miss the smell of broken-in leather. I miss playing catch or even tossing under-hand to remember how good it feels to rekindle my flame of pitching. Well, until my shoulder catches on fire, my elbow gets shooting pains, and my hand goes numb. One of those love-hate relationships, I suppose.

Starting this past weekend, a large chunk of Group 75 bid farewell to the Kingdom and returned to Clean Life. This week, I’ll say goodbye to 2 more; next week, 3(ish) more, and on and on until I leave for a 3-week Christmas holiday with my family and return with only the remnants of the faithful Group 76.
But I keep remembering my first two months in this country. We 76’ers basked in the beachy glory of Ha’apai, greeted by 4 anxious (and at first, we thought slightly crazy) volunteers who hadn’t had much Palangi interaction in what seemed a while. Their excitement to see us was astounding—they had already read our resumes, stalked our Facebooks, browsed through our pictures… (desperate much?)

But now, 13 ½ months in and with no new group this year, I understand. Group 75 said it was nice to have new faces, new characters, new ideas; and all this brought back motivation to be a successful volunteer.
Our predecessors were overly-enthusiastic to share ideas, details, advice, and creative tips like how to explain Bloom’s taxonomy via sea metaphors.

Even with the exhaustive levels of understanding (from pre-school activities to educational methodology,) a combination of excitement and motivation from both the PC staff and volunteers created a wonderful, positive environment for us newbies. Our group 76 dynamic was pretty amazing (we couldn’t be more relaxed or open with one another,) and that alone solicited praise and excitement from PC Tonga. Now, I still feel that group bond, but the combination of island fever, separation, and sadness from seeing my friends leave makes me feel far from motivated.


I’m currently three weeks away from good ol’ Kentucky and I’m banking on THAT to be my motivation. Many of us are winding down the year with stagnant jobs or school days cut short; we’re making plans for the holidays and buying Christmas presents for our families, but until our own short departures, we’re all waiting in the dugout, punching the familiarities of our gloves, eyeing the bats with hopeful wonder, and cheering on our teammates who finally get to go up and take a swing.