During my Peace Corps service, I took 4,807 photos. Photos of friends, family, places, moments, and people I never want to forget.
By Jade Johnson-Pittman
In almost every Timorese household, framed photos capture times and celebrations, so they are never forgotten. Memories are easy to bring forth and reminisce about. My host family’s house has pictures of graduations, events, and family ties that my younger host brother and sister would ask about repeatedly. Sometimes they would look at pictures on my phone of my younger brothers and sisters in the US and ask the same questions, wanting to hear the same stories. They would fill in the little details independently because they had often heard them.
During my Peace Corps service, I took 4,807 photos. Photos of friends, family, places, moments, and people I never want to forget. There’s also the occasional photo of my host sister who, like me, loves to take selfies. I have pictures with fellow volunteers and remember hikes, melon flavored iced teas, and New Year’s in Dili, the capital. I remember the safe spaces, understanding, and love we shared. I have pictures of the hot, blue beaches in the dry season and the humid, lush green mountains in the rainy season.
I also remember weekends at the beach and visiting my extended host family. I have pictures with my host siblings and remember nights of coloring, hair braiding, and pretend play, where they would sometimes go to Australia, and I’d wish them well on their travels and ask them to bring me fruit back. I remember birthdays where the birthday person would go around and feed each guest a piece of cake. I have pictures of my bright green school, co-teachers in matching blue uniforms, and students wearing blue and white on some days and green on others. I remember preparing for exams, planning lessons, teaching students, and learning from my teachers. I remember receiving Bensa, a sign of respect from students who kissed the back of an elder’s hand, and my sign of respect was when I pressed the back of their hands to my cheek.
With 4,807 memories, it’s hard to choose which ones I would like to hang in my home, but as I sort through them, I can’t help but be drawn to the last few pictures I took during my last days of service. There was so much love, gratitude, and sadness, but when I look at them, I feel no sadness, just the warmth of friendships, great moments, and experiences in Timor-Leste.