It’s hard to believe it’s only been ten days. In some ways, it feels like a blur of airports, new faces, and long days. In others, it feels like I’ve already started to carve out a small corner of life here.
The journey began in the quiet hours of the morning — 3 a.m., to be exact — when my parents dropped me off at the Orlando International Airport. There’s something surreal about hugging your parents goodbye in the dark, knowing you won’t see them again for months. That moment carried a mix of excitement, disbelief, and love that still lingers as I write this.
From Orlando, I flew to Arlington, Virginia, where our cohort gathered for staging. Fifty of us, coming from all across the United States, met for the first time — strangers united by a shared purpose. Together, we make up the 28th cohort serving in North Macedonia, spread across three sectors: English Education, Special Education, and Community Development.
After staging, we traveled together internationally — first to Vienna, then onward to Skopje, the capital of North Macedonia. The travel day was long and heavy (quite literally — my luggage was a full-body workout), but we made it.
We checked into the Continental Hotel, where orientation week began. Those first five days were packed: sessions on expectations, safety, cultural adjustment, and the Peace Corps’ mission, plus a round of rabies vaccines for good measure. “Exhausting” feels like the only word that fits — late nights, early mornings, and a rush of new information — but the laughter and friendship made every bit of it worthwhile.
By midweek, the question on everyone’s mind was placement. There were five training communities, each set to host around ten to twelve volunteers. I learned I’d be placed in a small town in the south-eastern part of the country or in the Tikvesh region. The city is picturesque, surrounded by rolling vineyards and distant mountains. It has the charm of a small town with just enough bustle to keep me curious. I can already tell it will be a special place to spend the next three months.
Language training began soon after, and let me tell you — Macedonian is as beautiful as it is challenging. I’ve already added the Macedonian keyboard to my phone, and my host family has been so patient as I stumble through new words. My host mom is kind, my two host sisters are full of energy, and their six-year-old brother has quickly become my unofficial translator. Their grandmother, Baba Vera, lives just upstairs, and her presence makes the home feel even warmer.
The food has been incredible. I’ve tried ajvar — a roasted red pepper spread made in the fall — and last weekend, my host family took me to Tikveš Lake to make and can fresh jars for winter.
On Sunday, I found myself sitting by that same lake, watching the water ripple beneath the late afternoon sun. It hit me in that quiet moment — I’m across the globe from everything familiar, living with a family I didn’t know a week ago, speaking a language I barely understand. And yet, somehow, I feel steady. The strangeness and the beauty coexist here, and I’m learning to hold them both.
Between late-night coffees, shared meals, and laughter that transcends language, I’ve felt deeply welcomed.
Ten days in, I’ve already learned so much — about language, patience, and the beauty of connection. There’s so much ahead: more words to learn, more places to see, more moments to write about. For now, I’m simply grateful to be here — in this chapter, with these people, in this place that’s slowly becoming home.
With heart,
