Yet again, an unacceptable amount of time has passed between blog updates. My bad… Truthfully, the reason for this extended silence has been my inability to put a positive spin on the fact that I have pretty much nothing to report. I’ve put off updating my blog, not knowing exactly how to articulate my feelings over the past several months. However, after reading a blog entry from a fellow Emory grad who is a PCV in Benin, I am encouraged to write honestly about my struggles, for therapy, if nothing else. She does a much better job articulating, so I suggest you check out her blog as well (meginbenin.blogspot.com). I’ve started many blog entries, only to abandon them; as if putting my feelings into words would somehow make it more real that life here just kinda sucks at the moment. Now that that’s out there, I’ll elaborate.
The beginning of this year was devoted largely to organizing the health fair, running around Swaziland to meet with various NGOs and government health officials, learning the ropes of grant writing, requesting permission from the inner council, and sorting out the logistics for the big event. Despite some minor disasters (as expected), the event was a success. Over 200 community members attended to hear presentations about non-communicable disease prevention and HIV. About 100 of those community members tested for both HIV and diabetes. Most importantly, despite much concern from community leaders over the quantity of food (specifically meat) that would be available, all attendees received a traditional Swazi meal, thanks to the hard work of a group of women who spent the entire day preparing the food.
So, the health fair was a success and the community leaders seemed quite satisfied with the turnout. Since all of my efforts until that point had revolved around producing this health fair, in the aftermath of the event I was left feeling somewhat lost, thinking to myself, “Okay, now what? What am I actually supposed to be doing here?” I’ve been struggling with this question ever since.
As health volunteers, we are not assigned to a specific clinic or school, but rather are supposed to identify groups or institutions that need our help and do what we can to help. Since I was unsure of where to turn within the immediate community for where to help, I sought to get involved with the schools, hoping that here I would find some direction, perhaps some routine, and most importantly get a chance to mentor some young girls and boys. I proposed starting a girls empowerment club or teaching life skills and each time I received the same response, “Oh, this week we are busy with sports, come back next week and we will discuss (substitute sports with any possible excuse).” After weeks spent walking 5 miles to the school in the scorching heat, waiting several hours for a meeting only to be told to return the following day, I became increasingly discouraged. Eventually it became too late in the trimester to start any major projects and I accepted that I would abandon those efforts for the time being and resume again after my mom and sister came to visit and when the new term began. Throughout these months of failed attempts, I continued to receive requests from community members for sponsors, infrastructure projects, food donations, and money. While these requests have been constant throughout my service, I became increasingly irritated by them, feeling that I was only valued in the community for what monetary or tangible aid I could provide. There seems to be a significant disconnect between what I can provide as a Peace Corps volunteer working towards sustainable development and what the community wants and expects from me. I am in no place to judge anyone for these requests. For most people in my community, their only interactions with foreigners (aka white people) have been through receiving donations in the form of food or clothing. Many NGOs choose to initiate their pilot programs in this region of Swaziland and many of them are largely donation-based, which seems to be a double-edged sword as it creates a sense of dependency among locals. Additionally, one of Swaziland’s nicest game reserves is located within our community, which means large tour buses of white people come parading through, often handing out money and sweets to local kids hanging around the entrance (side note: if you are ever on safari in Africa, NEVER DO THIS! You will make the life of the local PCV a living hell!). So, given their interactions with foreigners and aid agencies, I can’t blame my community for reaching the logical conclusion: all white people have copious amounts of sweets and money that they love to give out for free! If I were living each day wondering where my next meal would come from or how I would find money to pay my children’s school fees, I would certainly take the chance to ask the umlungu (white person) for some cash. So I don’t blame them. But it doesn’t mean that it makes me feel all warm and fuzzy on the inside to be miles away from my home and being asked to sacrifice my meager paycheck, as if leaving everything familiar to me to attempt to help out isn’t enough. I’m realizing that while volunteers are often praised for their selflessness, there is also an element of selfishness that accompanies the decision to devote one’s time and effort to “helping others”. Ask most volunteers and they will tell you that a genuine desire to improve the lives of others is generally not their leading reason for choosing to join the Peace Corps. Most desire the adventure, the chance to experience a new culture, the opportunity to travel, etc. Adventure, cultural exchange, and travel are all awesome aspects of Peace Corps, but right now, I desire to feel valued for who I am as a person, not for the color of my skin or the money I allegedly have, and to feel useful, as if I have something worthwhile to contribute. I have been fortunate enough to be surrounded by family and friends who have loved me for exactly who I am for my entire life. While I still feel very much loved and supported, these family and friends are now several time zones away and I am forced to rely on faith for a sense of purpose. I question my competency – what can I, a 22-year-old from suburban California, offer to an HIV-stricken community? Is my time here really worth it? Can I really make a difference…for anyone here? I am forced to look to those meaningful relationships that I do have for confirmation that God does want me here, right now, at this point in my life. When I come home to my neighbor’s two-year old son, arms spread wide open and running towards me for a hug, or when my neighbor gets teary-eyed talking about how hard it will be to say goodbye to me, I am reminded of why I am here. I often get carried away focusing on the poverty and injustice that this community faces on a daily basis, and feeling so small and incapable of addressing the larger issues affecting those who I have come to know and love. But I am not here to completely reverse the viscous cycle of poverty and HIV; I am here to touch to the lives of the individuals that live within this cycle.
During training, we were taught about the “life cycle” of a volunteer, which describes the roller coaster of emotions that seem to be typical for Peace Corps volunteers worldwide. It seems that I am certainly not alone in my feelings and the period of time around the one-year mark has been dubbed the “mid-service crisis.” During this time volunteers question their purpose, competency, experience a renewed sense of loneliness, and begin to wonder how they will possibly make it through the next 15 months. It is encouraging to know that I’m not alone in my frustrations. In speaking with other PCVs who are farther along in their service, it seems to be universally agreed upon that the second year is when volunteers see their failed efforts take a turn for the better.
So, that’s where I’m at. I praying that what these older and wiser PCVs say is true and trying to focus on the relational aspect of my service. I keep coming back to this verse: James 1:2-3. “Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance. Perseverance must finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything.” Well…I wouldn’t exactly consider this period of my service pure joy, but I believe there is a lot of truth to this verse, regardless of your religious background. So, I push on in faith that this suckiness is temporary and that these struggles are only laying the groundwork for bigger and better things to come.
In an effort to end this entry on a semi-positive note, here are some visuals of what keeps me going:
The sun beaming through the clouds at dusk
This kid
Her smile
Can you tell I'm obsessed with him?
Impromptu dance parties with my closest friend
