My Life is a Movie

I was thinking about this the other day. Peace Corps is kind of like a theatrical performance. First, we have the protagonist. A naïve, idealist, with a good heart, a good head (sometimes), and the gusto to do something big with his life. In an effort to fulfill his need to put these qualities into practice, he joins an organization known for its rumored idealistic, flip-flop wearing, “lets go native” philosophy: the US Peace Corps. At the beginning motives are unknown by the audience. Perhaps, they think as they watch, the volunteer doesn’t know exactly why he is there either. He’s complex. Slowly revealing who he is through inner dialogues meant to quell his confusion about self and purpose, the audience slowly starts to see who this person really is and why he does what he does. Between these self-analyzing, philosophical musings they see his interactions with the people around him, both other volunteers and neighbors. They see how his ideas about life and self express themselves in his relationships: sometimes triumphantly, sometimes tragically. Most of the time, knowing what they know, the audience will be slightly amused and delighted by how clumsily, and over-seriously the volunteer goes about these interactions.

It would be no performance, of course, without an antagonist. Or, in this case, many. The volunteer, unbeknownst to him at first, has a host of issues set in his way, many there before he even arrives. Apathy, homesickness, cultural differences, the local crazy out to make life miserable, and transportation that sometimes makes him want to die. The odds are against him. The audience can see this from the get-go and it keeps them enthralled, even through the tedium that fills the void between the heart pounding action scenes, intriguing drama, and hilarious comedy. Perhaps, they think, the tedium is his biggest enemy. He’s not doing a great job of combating it though.

Like in most stories, the volunteer is not alone. He has friends and family, some popping in and out, some there throughout its entirety, helping him accomplish, not necessarily the mission he set out for, but his destiny: what (he is slowly discovering) he is meant to accomplish through this ordeal. These people anchor his reality, keeping him in sight of what is most important and helping him avoid getting upset over things that can be dismissed. They don’t always give him warning of impending doom or keep him out of trouble, but they do always come to his rescue when he finds himself in a jam that he cant get out of on his own.
At some point in the story, the volunteer is faced with an obstacle so big and so powerful, that his fundamental idea of the ordeal is remarkably altered. This is the turning point. From here on out the volunteer quickly starts to “get-it.” He sees his enemies for what they really are and he no longer fears them. While twists appear every once and a while and the volunteer relapses into unsuccessful habits on occasion, the story picks up from here with the end in sight.

This story has a happy ending as it turns out. The volunteer finds his purpose and accomplishes it in some fashion or another. Not everything works out as he had hoped, but in the end all that matters is that he made it through. No grand finale. No on stage fireworks. Just a quiet, reflective success.