5th September 2013
Post by Lara
After a year of volunteer service, we’ve had a lot of
conversations about what it is that we’re doing here. Between our family and friends at home, our
neighbors and co-workers in our community, our fellow volunteers, and ourselves,
there are a lot of ideas floating around about what it means to be a Peace
Corps volunteer. Below are some of our
thoughts on the matter, written primarily for anyone who is interested in or
planning to join Peace Corps.
Peace Corps will
probably change you more than you change the world
Of course Peace Corps volunteers (PCVs) want to change the
world—why else leave everything you’ve ever known for 2 years to go live in the
developing world? I don’t want to be a
class-A cynic and tell you you’re not going to change the world, but the reality
is that a lot of changes you inspire won’t happen during the 27 months you’re
here, and you may never learn about them. We’ve heard countless stories about
volunteers returning after 10, 20, 30 years and finding out that the students
they taught are now valued members of their community and count their PCV as
one motivator that got them where they are—that’s awesome! But sometimes you don’t get to hear those
stories. Sometimes you have to trust
that those stories are out there. What
you will take home with you, though, is that living and working and
assimilating in a new community is going to leave you a different person. Which leads us to the next point…
You may experience an
identity crisis (or two)
Whether you’re 22 and fresh out of college or 65 and looking
for an adventure post-retirement, or anywhere in between, you are an
individual. You have your own ways of
defining yourself—quirks, likes, dislikes, skills, fears, hopes, etc. Most of those things that define you, though,
are not going to be the same in a foreign country. The way our friend Krystin put it was that
when someone arrives in-country for Peace Corps service, many of the things
that make you you disappear, and
what’s left is not a complete person.
Maybe you still have your spunk and determination, but your fashion
sense and addiction to licorice can’t be sustained here. Or maybe your pragmatic and head-on way of
solving problems in the US workforce doesn’t get things done in your new environment. Whatever it is that disappears is going to
get filled in (like Kevin’s addiction to binch
akara, fried bean sandwiches, taking the place of his enjoyment of fast
food in the states). And whoever you
become once all those gaps get filled in is going to be, for all intents and
purposes, a new person. You will get a
new name, have a new house, choose to spend your money on different things,
pick your battles when it comes to disagreements with co-workers, etc. And you might find yourself feeling
disconnected with the person you used to be or who your friends and family
expect you to be. Rest assured, other
PCVs are experiencing this shock also—and they’re likely the best supports
you’ll have in talking through it.
Though we’re a year from moving back to the US for good, we
already expect to have a similar identity crisis when we get back. The nice thing about 2 years in Peace Corps
is it gives you ample time to figure out who you are and who you want to
become, but all that time in a foreign country adapting to cultural differences
and learning a new language will undoubtedly make it tough to go back. Again, I’m quite sure most PCVs have similar
experiences here and can help each other figure it out.
You may not change in
the ways you expect
Before we started Peace Corps, I used to tell people, “I
know it’s going to change my life, I just don’t know how.” Well, I was right—so many things about me and
my goals and my outlook on life have changed, and not necessarily in ways that
I foresaw.
During our mid-service conference in July, I got into a
conversation with some fellow PCVs about how we’ve changed in the last year,
and one thing came up that I certainly would not have expected a year
ago—living here has not made us less materialistic. I guess I should note that in some ways it has—I
am living a fulfilled existence without a dishwasher, TV, or indoor
lighting. But I also am more interested
than ever before in having a smart phone, living somewhere with public Wi-Fi,
owning a car, and having enough of an income to be able to make a difference in
Sierra Leone in the future.
There are other unexpected changes to be considered—some
PCVs lose a lot of weight during service, while some gain. Some develop new interests, or lose old
ones. Friendships change; people at home
buy houses and have babies and go to grad school, and you’re generally doing
such incredibly different things that it’s hard to draw an accurate comparison.
That’s ok! PCV life is different, and
if it’s what you want to do then do it.
Peace Corps is almost
guaranteed to make you a more responsible person
Depending on what country you get sent to, the specifics
will change—but being a PCV requires you to take personal responsibility for
your health, safety, and welfare in ways that go far beyond anything I’ve
experienced before. Especially if you’re
coming right out of college, it can be a shock—because universities take a lot
of responsibility for their students these days—having clinics on campus, RAs
who check in on you now and then, professional counselors, social workers, and
friends who will get you through tough times or at least try to point you in
the right direction.
Peace Corps requires a lot more from you to keep you
healthy, happy, and safe. When you’re
sick, you’re expected to take your temperature and make note of your symptoms
before you call the doctor. When you’re
sad, you might not have anyone nearby to say, “hey, do you want to talk about
it?”—which means you may have to recognize when you need to talk to someone and
be the one to seek help. When you’re in
the city and out with other volunteers, you will all be looking out for each
other, but you also have your own responsibility to remember that you’re not in
the US where there are cops outside of crowded night clubs and people willing
to call the police if they hear a disturbance.
Being a PCV means being willing to stand alone in many
ways—you may be the only American in a 20-mile radius. You may be the only
person willing to say something when project money goes missing or gets spent
on something it shouldn’t. Of course,
being a married PCV is a little different in that we are often alone together, but it can still be a
challenge being the only person your spouse has to vent to.
Everyone has their own
idea of what you’re here for
This is a biggie, because one thing every PCV wants is to be
loved by their community and admired by those at home. The fact is, though, some people will expect
things of you that you can’t (or won’t) deliver. One fellow PCV’s principal told her upon
meeting her that her priority would be to build him an office. I’ve had many fellow teachers approach me to
help them procure a computer. Some
schools want PCVs to do so much busy work that it clouds out what we deem the
important stuff—teaching kids, promoting healthy habits, and developing our
community. When it comes to host country
locals misinterpreting your service, it can be totally unimportant or very
detrimental to your service. When it’s the ladies in the market mistakenly
thinking you’re a nurse when you’re a teacher, don’t sweat it. When it’s your principal mistakenly thinking
you’re here to raise money to pave a parking lot…you may have to bring in
back-up. Either way though, you can
expect a lot of misunderstanding around what brought you here, what your goals
are, and what you’re capable of. It’s
all part of the package.
You may find you have issues with those you left behind in
the states, too—friends and family will
be so proud of you; they will admire
your bravery; they will applaud your selflessness, and if you’re anything like
Kevin and me, you might feel uncomfortable hearing those things. It’s kind of like not being able to see the
forest for all the trees—some days I feel downright cowardly [sent the neighbor
girl to the market for me because I can’t handle speaking Mende today]; some
days I feel selfish [didn’t share one little crumb of the cinnamon rolls we
made ourselves]; some days I feel like other people glorify what I’m doing here
[getting a note that says, “Lara, I’m just amazed at all you’re accomplishing”
when I just turned in my students’ grades and the average was a 55]. At the end of the day, my family and friends
are wonderful to help me see the big picture—but it can be hard to hear the
praises on those days when my shortcomings are taking center stage.
It’s also hard to deal with friends and family when you
think they’ve got the wrong idea of what you’re in Peace Corps for. My best advice, with regards to every bit of
encouragement and praise and misunderstanding that you receive from home, is to
appreciate the positives and play down the negatives. You yourself no doubt had
the wrong idea of what volunteering would be in some ways—don’t be too hard on
your family and friends for making similar errors.
Peace Corps service
will be what you make of it
I mentioned in some previous posts that we have official goals
we’re working toward, such as improving students’ test scores and helping
teachers adopt new teaching methodologies.
We also have personal goals, like making our house a more comfortable
place to live, keeping our chickens alive, learning the local languages, and
catching up on pleasure reading from the last 10 years. Being a PCV means not always having control
over where you work, who you work with, where you live, and many other aspects
of your life—but it also offers you a wide-open platform as far as designing
and implementing projects, working on your own personal development, and
defining your service in the ways you choose.
Ultimately, we are happy to be here and happy to have another year left
in our service—but along the way our goals and areas of focus have shifted and
morphed and changed to suit us. I think being a successful and satisfied PCV is
all about making your experience, and that’s what we’re trying to do. (For more
thoughts on how Peace Corps service has inspired change in me, see my post from earlier this summer titled “A Bend in
the Road”)
