"Oh, my back still hurts," Jim groaned as he sat on the bed and bent over to pick up his shoe. "Why don't you try a massage?" His wife asked. "My friend Carol swears massage is the only thing that can help her back pain." Jim sighed as he tied his shoe. "I suppose I have tried everything else. The chiropractor says my back is fine, just the muscles are tight. My doctor gave me muscle relaxants, which I don't like to take, and our insurance only covered four physical therapy visits. Massage can't hurt my back any more than it already does, I guess."
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I have not been blogging about my Peace Corps experience for a bit. There were several reasons for this. The decision to join the Peace Corps and go to Mozambique has been a deeply personal one, that has elicited conflicting responses from friends and family. I would be lying if I said that I have not had second and third thoughts about this. I am leaving my life for 27 months, and at this point, I am down to the final stages.
And just like that, my Peace Corps service is over. It is certainly not the way that I saw it ending, but here we are. Covid 19 has forced us all to take a look at our lives and lifestyles. I will be forever grateful to the people of Mozambique for opening their lives to me and allowing me to be a part of it for this past year. There are so many things that I wanted to do, and now the time is over. The last week has been a blur with travel. I had to take a chapa (something like a van that is used for public transportation in Mozambique) from my site in Xai-Xai to the capital city of Maputo. The next day, I flew to Johannesburg, South Africa. Next was Johannesburg to Dubai, then Dubai to New York. The final flight was to my home in Charleston, SC. With all of the time zones, I have no real idea of how many hours I was actually in transit. Since being home, I have been in self-quarantine. I only leave the house to go on a daily walk/run for 5 miles (10km). I figure if I must b