Last weekend, my mom and younger sister, Ellen, and I were driving to St. Louis. Ellen eventually sunk into the backseat with her iPod (up soooo loud) and some thread to make those bracelets where you like loop and knot it. She's 16 and still loves artsy stuff like that to kill time.
Something prompted me to bring up the Peace Corps to my mom (who knows what, it seems like everything these days reminds me of the Peace Corps). I said, "You know mom, being a nurse practitioner, you could join the Peace Corps once you retire and Ellen's out from under you." (you know, how you aren't supposed to join if you are a guardian or financially responsible for someone. Ellen is 16 and a Junior, so she has a year and a half of h/s, and 4 years of college. My mom is 50, so that'd put my mom at 56, just about to retire.)
She seemed to entertain the idea as a plausible one. Most people look at you or respond to you as if you are crazy when you mention that. However, my mom actually entertained it--she's always been one who's dreamed of traveling but never did, and she was (surprisingly, since we don't get along) the first to head over heels support my decision to join the Peace Corps. She said something along the lines that it was something for her to think about and could be fun to do.
I say, "Since you are a nurse practitioner, which to them would give you a really strong application, and would be considered a 'senior' volunteer (NO OFFENSE) and they especially value volunteers of that age and experience, and Health is something that's in every region, you could probably even request a region and get placed in it--something younger volunteers don't necessarily get the privilege of doing. Its not a guarantee, but probably much more so than someone like me. Of course, despite that, flexibility is key." This seemed to intrigue her, and she asked what the regions were, so I told her.
She immediately said "I want to go to the Caribbean and live on like St. Lucia or St. Kitts, and what about my hair--how will I dye my hair? I won't go anywhere that I can't dye me hair."
I took a moment, staring at her, mouth gaping.
I say, "Mom...when people join the Peace Corps, they aren't really worried about their hair...people who dye it stop dying it, if you want it cut usually another volunteer or a neighbor cuts it....even if you were in the Caribbean and went to a nice resort to get it dyed, you'd probably blow your monthly allowance. Is that SERIOUSLY what you are thinking of and would consider to be your prime concern about the Peace Corps? Where in the hell to get your hair dyed!? And Okay, there is nothing wrong with the Eastern Caribbean, people go there and love it, there are people there who need help, but to want to go there because you are imagining ritzy beachy stuff!? You have GOT to be kidding me."
I had been so impressed by my mother supporting my decision for the Peace Corps. I had been so impressed that she seriously entertained the idea of she herself joining. Then I was so appalled when she said her region depended on hair dye and comfort. I told her to go to EE and dye her hair East European red.
Labels: eastern caribbean, hair dye, mom, pc, peace corps, volunteer
