January 2006
I am a Peace Corps volunteer serving in Morocco. Many of my friends have asked that most relevant yet neglected question, “Mr. Tar, what do you actually do?” I will leave them in the dark no longer. One of you even responded to my call last time to indicate any specific inquiries that you may drum up about my current life. Well, I erased that email, so I will have to go off of my gut-feelings of what may be of interest here.
In my sophomore-year English class, the teacher approached the definition of Hinduism as follows: Hinduism is not this, and Hinduism is not that. It is not to say that this organization is characterized by such ineffable qualities that it evades description, but it is often poorly understood by both Americans, host-country nationals, and sometimes the volunteers themselves until they get their feet a little wet. Listed below are a few of them along with some counterpoint:
Myth #1 Peace Corps is a relief agency
There is a vital need for those organizations who rush to the aid of war refugees, victims of natural disasters and political unrest. Peace Corps is not one of them. It is, above all, a development agency whose idealistic goal is to emplace volunteers in a region, make an indelible yet anonymous mark on their organizational and technical skills, and leave with the locals carrying the torch. It is not always met, of course, but we do lack many of the assets that other high-profile organizations deem necessary, the most obvious of which is money. Funding allocations for Peace Corps volunteers are often a pittance. Much to the chagrin of some, we are often called upon by staff to seek various funding sources to fulfill even the smallest grant proposals. But money is not supposed to be the goal. Sometimes one of the most valuable contributions an outsider makes is to bring different parties who do not know or even actively dislike each other, and convince them to collaborate.
Myth #2 Peace Corps is yet another form of exporting the West
Having our American ways rub off on host-country nationals is as inevitable as breathing. In theory, however, and in practice, appropriating the local mores of dress, conduct, and withholding one’s personal beliefs is hammered into every volunteer even before they arrive. Participation in local political issues is grounds for dismissal and there is a strong encouragement to avoid talking global politics and religion. These topics are unavoidable in an Arab-Muslim country, needless to say. Still, we all quickly develop a sense of when to hold our tongue, and we typically do.
Myth #3 Government-issued mud huts are standard accommodations
There is a sub-set of the Peace Corps Morocco (PCM) who work in urban areas, live in lavish apartments furnished with every imaginable North African appliance (more extensive than one may think) and stay extravagantly connected via cell phone and DSL internet in their home. They are aptly referred to as Posh Corps. In the same province, only four hours of taxi-hailing, bus-loading and donkey-carting away, there will live a volunteer with no electricity, water, telephone, motorized (or at least authorized) daily transport; the majority of their neighbors may have never left a fifty kilometer radius of their home, have never seen an American and may spread cow feces on wounds to heal them. It is largely a roll of the dice. There are those regions, such as southeast Asia, central and western Africa, the Pacific Islands, where the simple life is the norm and most volunteers enjoy a very diverse array of perceptions of time, social graces and hygiene. But in many of the nations in which we work, urban living, information technology and glad-handing well-heeled government officials and international NGO’s is an integral part of their effectiveness. Just for the record, my home is a mud-brick walled, cement-floored, pastel-colored beauty with running water and electricity.
Myth #4 Peace Corps is just a bunch of hippies, sitting around and singing “Kumbaya”
The sub-culture demographics may change from country to country somewhat, but one comment that many Moroccan volunteers have is their observation of how un-crunchy volunteers are. You all know that I rather resent the title of hippy. Nonetheless, with my long-hair I am still one of the most threatening with my free-living insinuations. But when a gaggle convenes on the weekends in any random village or city in Morocco, do not expect noodle-dancing, reminiscing about those dank Phish shows or the patchwork pants to come leaping out of the backpack. An arbitrary cross-section of the program may render the investigator with a former school-teacher, several recently graduated economics and biology majors, an attorney, an aspiring politician and two Department of State candidates (one third of our nation’s Foreign Service officers are returned Peace Corps volunteers, so if you ever wanted to work abroad, be paid like home and get great benefits…). No one could deny that the political leanings are fairly uniform (take a wild guess which side of the spectrum), however, and those that spring from the opposite side of the aisle are likely to find their views somewhat unpopular.
But still the question remains: What do you do? Well, the timing is actually quite ideal; sadly, eight months into my service, I am now starting to pick up speed and have a rather decent understanding of what programs are tenable and which are likely to be dead-ends. The protracted prologue to real activity is somewhat longer than it is for most volunteers, but not by much. We were all told not to apply for grants or to start major projects for the initial 6 months of service (this does not apply to the Youth Development program, who begin teaching a minimum of 6 months at the local Youth House within weeks of their arrival). That is what most of us did, leaving the months that follow for digging our heels in. The first half-year is a blur of meetings, hand-shakes, linguistic barriers and misunderstandings, door-knocking, flea bites, guesses of who is reliable and who is (quite frankly) a loser, chronic stomach problems, written and recited phone numbers, and numerous hours spent being lost, ripped off, or both. Over the course of this time you determine what a community or region’s needs are and how you can offer your services. In the meantime, the people determine what they can get out of you, how nice your belongings are and what you will leave behind when you leave.
So what did I find? When talking to rural-dwelling volunteers, mainly from the Health and Environment sectors, the litany of demands sound similar enough to resemble a tape-recording. Potable water, trash disposal, planting trees, erosion control, poor hygiene, infant mortality, malnutrition mitigation, flood control, better irrigation, more livestock, language teaching, wheat, road paving, a public bath house, latrines, notebooks and pens for the school, clothing, a schoolhouse, bicycles, improved transit, tourist dollars, or just money in general. Some of these are prohibitively expensive but each year a few volunteers attempt to spearhead them, with mixed results.
Overall, I am still not entirely comfortable with the role of candyman. It seems at times a more professional and glorified response to the children who implore, “Donnez-moi un bon bon!” in the streets. Nonetheless, it is the role that we can play to some extent and what often builds their trust in us. And so, under pressure from a local association, I have started to fill out some applications and search for funding. These associations are interesting. As the world globalizes and the Robin Hoods scout the developing countries for worthy beggars, locally-organized associations have spread like wildfire throughout Morocco. In all but the smallest and most remote mountain villages, every town, transit stop and hamlet has at least one association. Each of these has a twenty-word long title that alludes to every kind of project it aspires to accomplish before someone embezzles the money. In fact, the names are rather formulaic. If you are thinking of forming one, consult the following (it is written in French but the words are obvious enough):
L’Association _____________ (insert name of Berber town or animal) pour le Développement, l’Enfance, l’Éducation, les Femmes, la Culture et la Protection du Environnement, la Fôret et les Animaux.
Without one of these shiny placards, no dough. So they all started organizing and getting chartered and submitting applications and making email accounts and forgetting passwords and…
Then comes Mr. Tar, who rides up on his government-issue mountain bike and declares, “What can I do for you?” This is an incalculably powerful statement and I rather wish I never even said anything quite like it. In time, applications for irrigation-system refurbishing, tree plantings and weaving materials started creeping up from nowhere. But that is just a part of the picture. I have frequently resorted to the well-worn cliché, “Give a man a fish…” and have resolved to myself that education is the optimal effect that I want to have. AIDS education, collecting local environmental knowledge with a local association, establishing management protocols for a local gazelle reserve, teaching uneducated women their legal rights; these are projects that have been performed and are in the making. There are a few relatively involved ones in the making, but I don’t want to jinx myself, but I will let you know in time if these come to fruition.
Sure, I think it is pretty fun, but would I suggest it to others? This question was posed by Angela (of the dynamic duo, Kobela, of Rapid City fame), and in response, I offer several questions for consideration.
1) Can you appreciate and give people the benefit of the doubt, as they will undoubtedly behave very differently from that all we consider normal and polite, either unwittingly or intentionally?
2) Do you enjoy free time to read, learn new hobbies, have the same conversation with a neighbor for the 73rd time, or just sit and stare at a wall?
3) Would PC be a valuable step in your career? This may be especially important during those inevitable low points where you are ready to throw in the towel.
4) Are you not hell-bent on saving the world, and willing to accept minor increments and changes and purely enjoy the experiences and attained knowledge for what they are?
5) Do you mind living in a fishbowl and having everyone you know monitor your actions and associations?
6) Can you laugh at yourself and tolerate people laughing at you (for any number of reasons), knowing that they have absolutely no interest in how educated, well-trained, well-paid or well-respected you were back home?
If you answered “Yes” to each of these and are interested in the kind of programs that Peace Corps offers, then I would say that Peace Corps is for you. Their range of programs surprised me somewhat and a quick glance at their web page says quite a bit. What I have described above may actually be significantly different from one may ultimately find and experience while serving. But by synthesizing the lessons learned by me, my colleagues and those who have lived and served elsewhere, one finds that certain aspects are universal. That is my spiel. I hope that all my loved-ones have a clearer picture of what I do out here.
In my sophomore-year English class, the teacher approached the definition of Hinduism as follows: Hinduism is not this, and Hinduism is not that. It is not to say that this organization is characterized by such ineffable qualities that it evades description, but it is often poorly understood by both Americans, host-country nationals, and sometimes the volunteers themselves until they get their feet a little wet. Listed below are a few of them along with some counterpoint:
Myth #1 Peace Corps is a relief agency
There is a vital need for those organizations who rush to the aid of war refugees, victims of natural disasters and political unrest. Peace Corps is not one of them. It is, above all, a development agency whose idealistic goal is to emplace volunteers in a region, make an indelible yet anonymous mark on their organizational and technical skills, and leave with the locals carrying the torch. It is not always met, of course, but we do lack many of the assets that other high-profile organizations deem necessary, the most obvious of which is money. Funding allocations for Peace Corps volunteers are often a pittance. Much to the chagrin of some, we are often called upon by staff to seek various funding sources to fulfill even the smallest grant proposals. But money is not supposed to be the goal. Sometimes one of the most valuable contributions an outsider makes is to bring different parties who do not know or even actively dislike each other, and convince them to collaborate.
Myth #2 Peace Corps is yet another form of exporting the West
Having our American ways rub off on host-country nationals is as inevitable as breathing. In theory, however, and in practice, appropriating the local mores of dress, conduct, and withholding one’s personal beliefs is hammered into every volunteer even before they arrive. Participation in local political issues is grounds for dismissal and there is a strong encouragement to avoid talking global politics and religion. These topics are unavoidable in an Arab-Muslim country, needless to say. Still, we all quickly develop a sense of when to hold our tongue, and we typically do.
Myth #3 Government-issued mud huts are standard accommodations
There is a sub-set of the Peace Corps Morocco (PCM) who work in urban areas, live in lavish apartments furnished with every imaginable North African appliance (more extensive than one may think) and stay extravagantly connected via cell phone and DSL internet in their home. They are aptly referred to as Posh Corps. In the same province, only four hours of taxi-hailing, bus-loading and donkey-carting away, there will live a volunteer with no electricity, water, telephone, motorized (or at least authorized) daily transport; the majority of their neighbors may have never left a fifty kilometer radius of their home, have never seen an American and may spread cow feces on wounds to heal them. It is largely a roll of the dice. There are those regions, such as southeast Asia, central and western Africa, the Pacific Islands, where the simple life is the norm and most volunteers enjoy a very diverse array of perceptions of time, social graces and hygiene. But in many of the nations in which we work, urban living, information technology and glad-handing well-heeled government officials and international NGO’s is an integral part of their effectiveness. Just for the record, my home is a mud-brick walled, cement-floored, pastel-colored beauty with running water and electricity.
Myth #4 Peace Corps is just a bunch of hippies, sitting around and singing “Kumbaya”
The sub-culture demographics may change from country to country somewhat, but one comment that many Moroccan volunteers have is their observation of how un-crunchy volunteers are. You all know that I rather resent the title of hippy. Nonetheless, with my long-hair I am still one of the most threatening with my free-living insinuations. But when a gaggle convenes on the weekends in any random village or city in Morocco, do not expect noodle-dancing, reminiscing about those dank Phish shows or the patchwork pants to come leaping out of the backpack. An arbitrary cross-section of the program may render the investigator with a former school-teacher, several recently graduated economics and biology majors, an attorney, an aspiring politician and two Department of State candidates (one third of our nation’s Foreign Service officers are returned Peace Corps volunteers, so if you ever wanted to work abroad, be paid like home and get great benefits…). No one could deny that the political leanings are fairly uniform (take a wild guess which side of the spectrum), however, and those that spring from the opposite side of the aisle are likely to find their views somewhat unpopular.
But still the question remains: What do you do? Well, the timing is actually quite ideal; sadly, eight months into my service, I am now starting to pick up speed and have a rather decent understanding of what programs are tenable and which are likely to be dead-ends. The protracted prologue to real activity is somewhat longer than it is for most volunteers, but not by much. We were all told not to apply for grants or to start major projects for the initial 6 months of service (this does not apply to the Youth Development program, who begin teaching a minimum of 6 months at the local Youth House within weeks of their arrival). That is what most of us did, leaving the months that follow for digging our heels in. The first half-year is a blur of meetings, hand-shakes, linguistic barriers and misunderstandings, door-knocking, flea bites, guesses of who is reliable and who is (quite frankly) a loser, chronic stomach problems, written and recited phone numbers, and numerous hours spent being lost, ripped off, or both. Over the course of this time you determine what a community or region’s needs are and how you can offer your services. In the meantime, the people determine what they can get out of you, how nice your belongings are and what you will leave behind when you leave.
So what did I find? When talking to rural-dwelling volunteers, mainly from the Health and Environment sectors, the litany of demands sound similar enough to resemble a tape-recording. Potable water, trash disposal, planting trees, erosion control, poor hygiene, infant mortality, malnutrition mitigation, flood control, better irrigation, more livestock, language teaching, wheat, road paving, a public bath house, latrines, notebooks and pens for the school, clothing, a schoolhouse, bicycles, improved transit, tourist dollars, or just money in general. Some of these are prohibitively expensive but each year a few volunteers attempt to spearhead them, with mixed results.
Overall, I am still not entirely comfortable with the role of candyman. It seems at times a more professional and glorified response to the children who implore, “Donnez-moi un bon bon!” in the streets. Nonetheless, it is the role that we can play to some extent and what often builds their trust in us. And so, under pressure from a local association, I have started to fill out some applications and search for funding. These associations are interesting. As the world globalizes and the Robin Hoods scout the developing countries for worthy beggars, locally-organized associations have spread like wildfire throughout Morocco. In all but the smallest and most remote mountain villages, every town, transit stop and hamlet has at least one association. Each of these has a twenty-word long title that alludes to every kind of project it aspires to accomplish before someone embezzles the money. In fact, the names are rather formulaic. If you are thinking of forming one, consult the following (it is written in French but the words are obvious enough):
L’Association _____________ (insert name of Berber town or animal) pour le Développement, l’Enfance, l’Éducation, les Femmes, la Culture et la Protection du Environnement, la Fôret et les Animaux.
Without one of these shiny placards, no dough. So they all started organizing and getting chartered and submitting applications and making email accounts and forgetting passwords and…
Then comes Mr. Tar, who rides up on his government-issue mountain bike and declares, “What can I do for you?” This is an incalculably powerful statement and I rather wish I never even said anything quite like it. In time, applications for irrigation-system refurbishing, tree plantings and weaving materials started creeping up from nowhere. But that is just a part of the picture. I have frequently resorted to the well-worn cliché, “Give a man a fish…” and have resolved to myself that education is the optimal effect that I want to have. AIDS education, collecting local environmental knowledge with a local association, establishing management protocols for a local gazelle reserve, teaching uneducated women their legal rights; these are projects that have been performed and are in the making. There are a few relatively involved ones in the making, but I don’t want to jinx myself, but I will let you know in time if these come to fruition.
Sure, I think it is pretty fun, but would I suggest it to others? This question was posed by Angela (of the dynamic duo, Kobela, of Rapid City fame), and in response, I offer several questions for consideration.
1) Can you appreciate and give people the benefit of the doubt, as they will undoubtedly behave very differently from that all we consider normal and polite, either unwittingly or intentionally?
2) Do you enjoy free time to read, learn new hobbies, have the same conversation with a neighbor for the 73rd time, or just sit and stare at a wall?
3) Would PC be a valuable step in your career? This may be especially important during those inevitable low points where you are ready to throw in the towel.
4) Are you not hell-bent on saving the world, and willing to accept minor increments and changes and purely enjoy the experiences and attained knowledge for what they are?
5) Do you mind living in a fishbowl and having everyone you know monitor your actions and associations?
6) Can you laugh at yourself and tolerate people laughing at you (for any number of reasons), knowing that they have absolutely no interest in how educated, well-trained, well-paid or well-respected you were back home?
If you answered “Yes” to each of these and are interested in the kind of programs that Peace Corps offers, then I would say that Peace Corps is for you. Their range of programs surprised me somewhat and a quick glance at their web page says quite a bit. What I have described above may actually be significantly different from one may ultimately find and experience while serving. But by synthesizing the lessons learned by me, my colleagues and those who have lived and served elsewhere, one finds that certain aspects are universal. That is my spiel. I hope that all my loved-ones have a clearer picture of what I do out here.
No comments:
Post a Comment