My Neighborhood

Why yes, that is a volcano ;)

I Refuse to Feel "Peace Corps Guilt"

That HuffPo article about "Peace Corps guilt" is going around again. It was originally published three years ago, and I feel the same about this "guilt" now that I did then. I don't feel it.

Taken from my previous blog:

I told myself I wasn't going to write about this Huffington Post article, but it's left me a little perturbed, disappointed and has challenged my ideas about Peace Corps and the people who join the organization. 

Written by current Peace Corps Volunteer Esther Katcoff, the article describes a "perpetual" and "boiling hot" guilt the author has felt while serving in Paraguay, caused by things like her ability to eat everyday, spend her free time as she may, and attend music concerts (she alludes to a Lady Gaga show in Asuncion.) Katcoff explains how this guilt plays a large role in how she interacts with others in her neighborhood/city, details a particularly unsettling relationship she has with a young Paraguayan girl who often goes hungry, and ends on how the guilt she feels is as much "ours" as it is hers.

The article has received many comments, some challenging her perspective, some from supportive Peace Corps Volunteers, but what has given me the most pause is the words of those Volunteers who say they either joined Peace Corps because of their own guilt or live a life in their Peace Corps site that is accompanied by guilt. One comment that encapsulates this reality comes from a Volunteer in Eastern Africa who simply writes, "Tears. Thank you."

This disappoints me. 

People's emotions are their own, they may express themselves as they please, and are free to try to make sense of their lives in the context of poverty...but when a Volunteer says she joined Peace Corps because of "guilt", I think it's a real shame. I think it's a wasteful sentiment, it's paternalistic. While certainly well-meaning, the Volunteer that feels this type of guilt seems self-absorbed and  patronizing. As one commenter to the article stated,"...it insults them when I treat my good fortune as a burden."

When Volunteers say they joined Peace Corps because of guilt, it rubs me the wrong way. It seems as if these Volunteers are either completely oblivious to, or willfully ignorant of extreme poverty as it exists in the United States. It seems as if poverty isn't guilt-inducing unless it's "over there."

I pose the same question here that I asked Katcoff: "Do the Volunteers who feel so guilty while living in their Peace Corps sites, with all their food, and technology, and access to music concerts feel the same way while living their daily lives in America?"

Many would state it's not the same, but isn't it? There are people in the United States without access to potable water, who live in shacks, who live in cardboard boxes right next to the  coffee houses that many of those "Peace Corps Guilt" Volunteers frequent. Almost 2 million Americans (the size of many impoverished cities around the world) live on less than $2 a day. That's less than $2 a day with the same cost of living found within the United States. That number halves when SNAP and other benefits are applied, but subsidies aside, American concentrated poverty is an unsettling, unavoidable fact.

Do these Volunteers feel this same urgency to help their fellow man & woman while they sit in college classrooms, or work their jobs, or eat their daily meals in the United States? While they attend that Lady Gaga concert in Detroit? Or when they get that new gadget? Where is this guilt? Why is volunteering half-way across the world the catalyst to feeling a sense of guilt about the same situations of poverty that are present in the United States? 

It is very difficult for me to understand this sense of "guilt" that only develops beyond the borders of the United States.

A Peace Corps Volunteer in Mongolia, Adam Garnica, responded superbly to the article on his own blog. I appreciate Adam's desire to connect Katcoff's words to his own experience, while offering thoughtful critique. As I was reading through the comments, however, I saw one from Chris, who stated he joined Peace Corps specifically because of guilt. He explained that he'd spent time in his adult life living in a ski village and mentoring the wealthy on how to "creatively avoid some or all of their obligation to pay their fair share of taxes." Joining Peace Corps was a way to make amends for that, I guess, and while he has every right to join Peace Corps and volunteer, I hope people like him are far and few between.

Yes, that seems a very judgmental thing to say; perhaps I'll change my mind, or perhaps Chris will be changed forever by his Peace Corps experience and will realize that joining Peace Corps might not be the appropriate way to appease a guilt he feels because he was born a "have" and has perpetuated a system of inequality. Maybe it will work in reverse: by joining Peace Corps, Chris might realize that he now has the tools to confront poverty and inequality within the United States.

I suppose I shall end where Adam Garnica's response began, with the question: "Why does one join Peace Corps?"

Esther Ratcoff joined Peace Corps“to understand what it means to be poor, but that´s just part of the story. I joined the Peace Corps to figure out how to escape the guilt of having so much while other people have so little.”

I joined Peace Corps because I know what it's like to have so very little. I understand what it's like to live in the most dangerous neighborhood in one of the poorest cities in the United States, and to have people see you as a statistic. I understand how very lucky I am to have a mother who worked her hardest to get me and my siblings to school, to get us to college, to tell us that getting pregnant is most certainly the fast-track to poverty and isolation. To keep us fed, even if it meant going to the shelter. 

I don't mean this to be a foray into some sad sort of "poverty Olympics." I just want to impress that, no, the guilt Ratcoff feels is simply hers, not "ours", not mine. I don't have guilt. What I do have, is the overwhelming desire to spread my knowledge and luck to those who may not have not been so fortunate.  To be to others what my mother was to me.

And this overwhelming desire did not just spring upon me as I filled out my Peace Corps application. It has always been there, because my eyes were opened at a very young age to the reality that poverty, disparity and economic inequality are everywhere, not just in those countries "over there."

Weather in Guatemala

Though not taken on the same day, these photos demonstrate just how quickly the weather changes where I live. We're in rainy season now, and the morning hours can be bright, sunny and extremely hot, but then instantly change post 2PM to clouds, torrential rain, thunderstorms and fog. I love it :) 

4th of July in Peace Corps Guatemala: Celebrating Freedom With a Little Less "Freedom"

I'll be honest; I really don't celebrate 4th of July in the States, so I had nothing planned and had originally thought I'd just head up to a nice lodge right outside Antigua with a friend to spend the weekend in peaceful relaxation.

Unfortunately, due to the growing security situation in country and a very frightening incident that occurred the week before (explained in more detail on a friend and fellow PCV's blog here), Peace Corps Washington and Peace Corps Guatemala decided it'd be best to tighten security restrictions and require that all Volunteers stay in their sites.

Though I was not going to attend, most Guatemala PCVs were excited to participate in the All-Volunteer Conference and 4th of July Celebration during that weekend, but like the flexible PCVs we are supposed to be, they made due and fashioned some awesome last-minute Goal 2 4th of July activities in their sites.

As an introvert, I'm not really "into" big parties, but I thought it'd be nice to invite a couple co-workers and friends (read: 3 people) to my house to enjoy a small 4th of July lunch. I had a friend bring some balloons and decorations, and we ended up making a huge spread of delicious food (deviled eggs, potato salad, pasta salad, chicken patties, salsa, etc.)

Though it's sometimes difficult for me to integrate in this manner, I'm glad I put my hesitation aside and had a small get-together.

On a side note, as a PCVL with different integration and work needs than regular PCVs, the current interim security policy here in Guatemala continues to trouble me (can't really go into specifics, but it involves heavy restrictions placed on certain towns). I recognize its necessity and am comfortable living and working within the constraints of the policy, but I hope future changes take into account Volunteers with special circumstances.

Dinner: Peace Corps Style

Believe it or not, my dinners now are not much different than they were in the States. But back in my old 2-year site near El Quiche, my dinner consisted mainly of rice, beans, pasta, paches, maybe some tortillas thrown in. 

Now, I can make so much more because I live a two-minute walk from a medium-sized grocery store.Tonight's menu is: tortilla soup! While some of my peers are amazing in the kitchen, I'm not going to kid myself. Hence, my delight at being so close to a grocery that has easy to make items.

Ah...who said this third year extension would be hard? :)

Tortillas and Refried Dreams

Finish Peace Corps. Head to DC to work for a couple months as a Foreign Service Officer trainee. Jet-set to some amazing little country to do a little democracy-ing. This was my Plan A. Obviously, that didn't happen. And now I'm here, ruminating once again on my life and my choices.

I say it enough, maybe even too much, but I got lucky this time. I'm not too upset about having to wait until 2017 to apply again to the Foreign Service, I don't feel "stuck" in Guatemala (as some do), and both Peace Corps and my NGO are offering me massive amounts of professional development and work experiences I know will certainly aid me in future careers.

That said...

Guatemala is my home, but it is not my home. I feel comfortable here, but I don't think I'd stay. Of course, people do ask, but I'm honest. When I'm done as PCVL, maybe I could manage another year. Or maybe another 6 months. But I know I'd have to leave sooner or later. Or later...

My perspective has changed so much since I first arrived as a Peace Corps Volunteer 2.5 years ago. I'm a little more cautious, a little more patient, and a lot more critical of "development" work. And by critical, I mean I'm learning to move beyond the face value, feel-good image "development" inspires.

As I child, I used to look up country information in the Encyclopedia Britannica and imagine myself as an invisible traveler, winding in and out of cafes and narrow streets and tall grasslands. I always envisioned that as an adult I'd take those dreams and fashion them into reality: maybe I'd be a diplomat, or an international aid worker or even ambassador. 

Perhaps it's because I've spent the majority of my adulthood outside the United States, but those childhood dreams have started to meld into very adult considerations. Instead of jet-setting, I feel like jet-settling. Instead of winding through narrow streets and tall grasslands, I'd just as much wind down for a little bit of Netflix and a soft couch.

It seems I'm losing the wanderlust and suddenly feeling the urge to nest, US-style. But into what, exactly...I'm still unsure.

Yet I am still here in Guatemala. I have so much time left here - 10 months to be exact - and while some current Peace Corps Volunteers might be counting down the months until Close of Service, it's just the beginning for my third year. And I'm ready for what awaits me...

Peace Corps Guatemala: Letter To A Future Volunteer

My project manager wrote me an email this morning, asking if she could use a previous letter I'd written to future Peace Corps Volunteers headed to Guatemala in an upcoming correspondence with them. To be honest, I'd forgotten about the letter, but it was really nice reading it nearly 2 years later.

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Hello future Peace Corps Volunteer -- 

Guatemala. When family members ask, “what's it like, over there?” at times I have no answer, as what I've experienced here can sometimes simply be beyond words. As a Peace Corps Volunteer in the Western Highlands, I've been pushed to my limit, challenged linguistically, and have been forced to leave my comfort zone far behind. But so far, it's been worth every moment.

As a Healthy Schools Volunteer, my days are constantly changing. Some days, I wake up a 5:00AM to meet the 6:30AM bus so I can get to my 8:00AM schools on time. On these days, I usually spend all morning at the schools, observing teachers' health lessons or spending quality time with the kids. Sometimes I eat the school snack with them, and then find myself playing a makeshift game of soccer, or racing around the playground for a game of “tag.” Other times the music or physical education teachers stop by, and I can participate in some of their activities.

On the days I don't have to take the bus, I have the distinct pleasure of walking to my schools. A favorite school path of mine is the one that follows the river. As I walk this path, I always find myself stopped along the way by parents and children and villagers who ask me about my day and who genuinely want to know how I am faring in my site. In those moments, I feel welcome and actually part of my community.

After work, I usually visit people around my site or spend time with my host family. Though I do not have a Peace Corps site mate, I am very fortunate to have made friends with several people my age who work and live in my town. I usually have dinner in their homes, visit with them during special events, or take day-trips with them to neighboring towns. Every week I give English lessons to my host cousin, who in turn gives me lessons on the Indigenous language spoken at my site. I also visit my host grandmother's shop, and we chat a bit as she makes casual jokes. I usually run into various other members of my extended host family, especially the kids, who always trail behind me yelling out, “Mariana, come play!” I cherish these small moments.

Working as a Healthy Schools Volunteer can at times be challenging; we're on the front-lines of helping ensure the children in our communities are practicing healthy habits, and the big changes we want to see cannot and will not happen overnight. Some days are disheartening and frustrating, but in those moments, I always think on my successes at site: training teachers and parents in how to make oral re-hydration solutions, introducing myself in the local indigenous language to over 50 mid-wives, collaborating with the Guatemalan Red Cross, and participating in a USAID training in order to help sustain the fledgling library in my town. As a Peace Corps Volunteer, I've learned to acknowledge and learn from each small step and advance I make in my community.

They say no Peace Corps experience is the same, but I have no doubt you'll experience some of what I've mentioned above. My only advice to you is to make your experience your own and to try to appreciate every happy, scary, confusing, lonely, breath-taking moment. Good luck, and as they say in my Peace Corps neck of the woods: Utz apetik!

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