From strangers to family: a journey of community integration

When I arrived in my site, located in the region of La Libertad, I was excited and grateful to start my service as a Peace Corps Volunteer, but I was also hit with a deep sense of loneliness and fear — this was it. The last 3 months I spent in training bonding deeply with other Volunteers was over and I was now moving in with a lovely family but strangers nonetheless, far away from all my friends.

At first, my interactions with my host family were limited to mealtime conversations after which I’d often retreat to the solitude of my room. No one in the community knew me yet, I didn’t have any friends or acquaintances, and while I knew it was part of the process of integrating, I still felt very sad and would find myself questioning my decision to serve for two years and missing my life before the Peace Corps.

However, slowly but surely I began integrating more, getting recognized around the community, and saying yes to more spontaneity. I began getting more comfortable with my host family, neighbors, and the rest of the community.

One early experience of bonding with my host family was an incredibly embarrassing but humorous moment. One Saturday I went for my morning run at the local soccer field. During my run, the youth patrol, a local group led by the police department, arrived to do sports as well. Some of the kids said hi to me as I ran by them, continuing to do my laps. After I finished, I went to greet the police officers and students. The police officer said, “I didn't know you liked to run,” to which I responded by sharing my passion for running. I said that I ran the LA marathon as a teenager and that running was a positive outlet for me in my youth and thus I knew how important their work with the kids was.

Suddenly, two of the kids shot up and yelled, “We’ll race you!” I had just finished my run and my legs were very tired but still tingly from the adrenaline. I thought, Well I can’t say no because I just boasted about my running achievements when I was their age. But I’ll be embarrassed if I race and lose. So I have to say yes AND win the race.

And so the race began. All the kids cheered and even the police officers yelled “USA versus Peru!” Determined not to lose, I ran as fast as I could. So fast that I couldn’t even feel my legs anymore, legs that were already so tired from having just run a long distance. I was in the lead, confident I would win. I pushed even harder on the uneven and loose rocky dirt as we neared the finish line. As I reached the end, I lost complete control. My legs failed me and I watched myself in slow motion completely face planting on the ground and scraping my knees, shins, elbows, hands, and nose.

The police officers ran to my rescue and all attention was on me — the police, the kids, the families in the stands, everyone! I was so embarrassed. I played it off as casually as possible and said, “Yeah, yeah, I’m okay, that’s just how I run because I’m super fast. I’m used to that.” I put a smile on my face as I said goodbye, reminding the kids that I got to the finish line first even if I fell after reaching it! I headed out with my host brother and as soon as we exited the stadium, I started bawling. I was in so much pain and finally free to show it away from the crowd. My 12-year-old host brother was frazzled, unsure how to help, but got me home.

My host mom was shocked when she saw me walk in the door. My left palm was bleeding and I was fully covered in dirt. I looked like an absolute wreck. My host mom pulled out the alcohol to clean my wounds and I wailed in fear because I knew it would burn. They sat me down at the kitchen table while my host mom sprayed alcohol on my wounds and my host brother blew on them to reduce the sting. I was embarrassed to be crying in front of my family whom I didn’t yet have the closest relationship with.

After the pain subsided, the humor began. My host brother began teasing me about the situation and I jokingly claimed that I would never step foot outside of the house because of my embarrassment. After two days however, I had to come out of my shell. Now, when the police see me they yell, “USA, USA, USA” because even though I face planted, I definitely won. And when the kids see me, they yell “Wanna race?” So while I’m known by many to be the Volunteer who face planted in a race against teenage boys, I’m also the person who can laugh about it and use it as an opportunity to bond with my host family, some of the youth, and my counterparts at the police station. We’re now on a joking basis from that incident, and now that I’ve healed from all the scrapes and bruises, I can say I’m grateful for this moment that played a major role in my community and host family integration.