Stairwells

Time is weird, and it is weirder in Peace Corps, and it is even weirder on an island. I cannot believe that we have already been contacted by people getting ready to come to Cape Verde to begin their Peace Corps service this summer. Have we really been here that long? It is exciting to think about their excitement.

On another, completely unrelated note: I found myself thinking about stairwells yesterday. When I first started teaching and studying for my degree at the University of New Mexico, I had to walk up this indoor stairwell each day, countless times a day. In some weird way, I used to measure time by my trips up and down that stairwell. I would come early in the morning when one was there, I would leave to swim or for lunch or class, and it was always crowded. It was creepy at night, cold during the winter, and concrete cool during the summer. I measured my five years of study by that stairwell. I would walk up it rushed on Mondays and Tuesdays, tired on Wednesdays and Thursdays, and relieved on Fridays.

I have a stairwell here at my work. It is outdoors, but I have noticed how much I think about time when I climb it. I mark my time by that stairwell, too. When I am in a good mood and class is going well and my students are growing and learning, I walk up the stairwell thinking two years is not enough time to do all I want to do. When the system here (and countless other things) get me down, that stairwell seems to remind me of how many more times I have to climb it until the end.

It is funny that when I walk both of them, the same focus on time occurs, and everything moves in slow motion. I have no doubts that when I am “finished” here (if that is really possible), I will remember this stairwell as well as I remember the one at the University of New Mexico. Hopefully, I will remember it as fondly.