I can say with absolute certainty that being sexually assaulted in a foreign country is different than being sexually assaulted in America. As I sit in this plane at 10,000 feet in the air and on my way back to Malawi, I can’t help but reflect on the past three weeks. Honestly, the past five months have been an emotional rollercoaster and there’s a constant question ringing in my ears: Why am I doing this to myself?

I’ve been sexually assaulted three times in Malawi. I am not physically hurt. I’m ok. It could have been worse. However, that doesn’t really make me feel better to say that. The first time that it happened, I was angry, then sad, panicked, embarrassed, frustrated. The barrage of emotions was unpredictable and I was frustrated mostly with myself because of my reactions to this happening. Working through it took a lot of time and effort and discomfort but I was really feeling like I had a handle on it and I was starting to feel comfortable by myself again. Then incident two and three happened simultaneously on the same day and within minutes of each other and I just broke.

I knew that working in a third world country was risky in many ways. I did everything I could to prepare myself for the possibility of this happening, among other things. It’s just that… can you really prepare for this? Is there any way to know EXACTLY how you’re going to react to this happening.

No.

There isn’t.

There is no way to know how something like this will affect you. And, for me, my reactions were the scariest part. The emotions come in waves. It sucks.

Peace Corps Malawi has been BEYOND supportive through all of this. They are incredible and I could not ask for better people to work with. I still love Malawi. Obviously. I’m going back. Right now.

I’ve gotten the same reaction from everyone: “Why are you going back?”

Well, I’m going back because I’m not finished. I’m going back because I have a job to do. I’m going back because there are people depending on me. Because I worked my ass off to get to Malawi in the first place. Because PST was hard and I don’t want to ever have to go through it again. Because I love my friends and colleagues. Because I miss my home and my dog and my cat and my students and my host family.

Mostly, I miss Malawi.

Getting on the plane to go back there was incredibly difficult and leaving my nieces for the second time is breaking my heart. The tears keep coming and holding them back only makes it worse. But, I have to do this. I have to go home.

Living in Malawi isn’t easy. If this job was easy then everyone would do it.

I bought a necklace yesterday that has a fortune cookie hanging from a gold chain and the paper it came on said “good fortune follows the brave.” So, today, I’m choosing to be brave and hoping that good fortune follows suit.

Peace out, CA.

Malawi, I’m comin’ for ya.