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It was the loneliest, emptiest feeling I had ever experienced. For the first time in my life, I was alone – really alone. There wasn’t one person I could say I really knew for thousands of miles in any direction. Sure, I had met some people a few days earlier, but there was no one I could call a friend. This empty feeling hung over me like a big black hole threatening to swallow me up. It scared me. Not a great way to start my African adventure. On this day in 1991, I was a new Peace Corps Volunteer that had just been dropped off at my homestay family’s house on the outskirts of Naivasha, Kenya. There were other volunteers somewhere down the road with their new families, but it was too dark to see anything. It was too rural to walk anywhere. It was me and me alone with my new family for the next 3 months. I was grateful that at least one person, my homestay sister, spoke English. I hadn’t learned much Kiswahili yet in my few short hours in Kenya. After settling into my room, I laid down on the bed to think and try to absorb everything happening around me. My head was spinning. Time slowed down. I felt so small, so microscopic, in the big scheme of things. I pictured the size of Africa – a huge continent – and the tiny piece of real estate I was occupying. I then imagined the size of the world and how much smaller my place was. I pictured my family and friends back home and wondered what they were doing right then. Were they thinking about me? Were they worried about me? Was normal life back home just going on without me? My room was attached to the main house, but I didn’t have access to the inside of the house. My only door led directly outside to the porch. It was a good set-up for both me and my new family in terms of privacy and security. Since the house didn’t have electricity or running water, there was no need for me to go into the house at night. I remember taking a walk outside that first night. It was a beautiful, clear night, but it was so silent, I could hear my heart beating. Then, I looked up in the sky and the sight of the moon took my breath away. It was huge and almost full. I remember standing there for a long time looking at that beautiful moon. So many thoughts. This was the same moon that I had marveled at back home in Michigan. This exact same moon was a constant, stable, incredible force of nature. The sight of the moon brought me peace. It calmed me. It settled me. It gave me clarity. It empowered me and gave me courage. Even though I was thousands of miles away from home on a foreign continent where I didn’t know anyone, I was okay. I didn’t speak the language, wasn’t familiar with the foods, didn’t know the customs or social norms, but I was okay. I had me. I could rely on me. The adventure that I was just beginning was a leap into the unknown, but I would be okay. I was ready.