Two years ago I entered into my service in Georgia. I was hoping to make a lasting impact on the people that I served in my community. Now that two years have passed, I find myself questioning what it is that I’m leaving behind. One of the hardest things that I’ve struggled with is that there isn’t immediate gratification for what I do here. No bump in sales. No promotion. No A+ on my report card. I’m more like a farmer. I plant seeds that will sprout long after I’ve left. At least that’s the hope. With some more nurture and care, what I’ve done here will have a lasting effect that I can’t see now, but optimistically will reach new heights in the future. Though I wonder about the effects that my actions will have on the people I meet now, there is one thing that has bloomed. A spoon hits the dirty kitchen floor and “oops” emanates through the cracked door. Chalk breaks in half after being vigorously used on the chalkboard and “oops” travels across the classroom. It’s the word of accidents. I didn’t even realize how often I use it. But “oops” is now a daily occurrence. My host mom will even repeat it as frosting flies from the electric mixer, painting the cabinet, fridge and floors with “oops, oops, oops…” “Oops.” My village of “oops.” But the spoon is always picked up and washed cleaner than it was. Now two kids can write on the board. The kitchen is mopped and the frosting makes its way into happy mouths. “Oops” is my happy accident. It is my hand print. And so I don’t ponder what I’ve left behind as I move forward. At least not too much. Maybe that’s because I’m still in it. What’s next hasn’t even happened and though I know I’m leaving, it hasn’t really hit me yet. It’s more like a trade: what I’ve left behind I’m taking with me in what I’ve learned. Two years spent in a beautiful country, rich in hospitality. I’ve met some amazing people that have made this experience–well they are the experience. The Peace Corps staff that has taught me how to function properly and effectively. The Georgian people who shared with me their patience, opened their doors, and the importance of family and community. My fellow Peace Corps comrades who have given me a shoulder to cry on, a laugh in sympathy, and a beer for relaxation. მადლობა მეგობრებო. And through all of these people, challenging myself and growing more comfortable outside of my comfort zone, I take the step forward. I truly believe that you get out life what you put in. And well, Georgia, I gave you all of me. And you gave me more than I could have ever imagined. For that I am incredibly thankful. I don’t believe I’m leaving. It’s not forever. I’m sad to go, but this farewell is more like a “see you later.” So see you later. Thanks for everything.