Do-overs

I've come to realize that scarf-making is an excellent metaphor for work as a Peace Corps volunteer.

When you are new to the art of scarf crocheting, as I am, you are liable to make a few rookie mistakes. For example, you might buy only one skein of yarn, thinking that will be plenty for a scarf. Then, when your yarn is about to run out and your "scarf" is about as long as a nice quilt square, you'll be left to progressively work yourself into a mild panic as your search through every yarn store in town yields no matching wool. Finally the Sunday market yarn lady will miraculously produce the last two remaining skeins of deep purple yarn, saving you from having to totally scrap your scarf project - things in Peru have a way of working themselves out somehow. As a newbie crocheter, and as a new-to-site volunteer, you spend a while stumbling around, giving things your best guess, and hoping for the best. Even though odds are that you don't really get how things work on the first try, the Peruvians put up with you, and try to help you out. And you make it through.

Then you go about your business, crocheting along row by row on this awesome purple scarf project that you're super enthused about, and life is good. Peace Corps projects tend to start out this way, too: so full of potential that you can't help but be excited about all the good you can do. But then, midway through the first skein of yarn, you hold up the scarf-in-progress to admire your handiwork, and you notice that the scarf has somehow been progressively growing in width. A quick stitch count confirms: you've been adding an extra loop to each row. Since triangle-shaped neckwarmer was not the look you were going for, you proceed to un-do all but the first four rows. This is one of those mistakes you can laugh about; just brush it off and move on. Re-doing ten rows won't kill you. Like realizing post-facto that the handout you gave all your students today has half-a-dozen Spanish typos, or watching helplessly as your socio gives everyone at the meeting a highly inaccurate description of Peace Corps' economic development program - you've just got to appreciate the humor of things, and roll with what you've got.

Eventually, one of the tougher problems catches up with you. That nagging feeling you've had since row five that your scarf is just a little bit too wide to be normal? Thirty rows deep, you can now decidedly state that no, a scarf this wide just isn't going to work. This is a bummer, as you've invested a solid number of hours and now have to face the reality of a complete do-over. But, since you know in your heart there's no other option, you sigh, take a deep breath, and proceed to pull apart the entire scarf. Back to square one, you re-roll the messy pile of yarn into a neat ball, and start again. Projects in Peace Corps often don't go as planned. Whether the municipality backs out on funding, or participants say they don't have time to come to your meeting, or a teacher strike shuts down classes for a month, things happen. And even though it sucks the wind right out of your sails, you pick up the pieces, ask yourself what you can learn from this small fiasco, and start again.

But you're wiser now. You make the scarf ten stitches less wide, and you know from experience that this will be the perfect width. You've already stockpiled your yarn, and to boot you now personally know all the nice ladies in town who sell wool. You know where you went wrong, and you won't be making that mistake twice. And most importantly, you aren't going to quit. That scarf is going to get made, no matter how many times you have to start over.