This is an article I wrote for the volunteer quarterly newsletter. Some of the frustration stems from having fellow volunteers try to make me feel like my service wasn't as relevant as theirs for reasons I was unable to control. I hope you enjoy it.
Dear everyone,
Service in the Peace Corps involves enduring hardships; it's one of the core expectations. It's important, though, to keep in mind that hardship comes in many forms. For some our main hardship is lifestyle, adjusting to different, usually lower, standards of living. For others our main hardship is work, difficulty collaborating with counterparts. Often it's a combination of the two.
However, no one outright chooses his or her own site. We are placed in our site and are expected to work. We put forth our best effort based on where the office has placed us. For some reason among volunteers, placement in a more developed site is grounds for light ridicule. Volunteers somewhere in the world coined the term Posh Corps, as if to suggest that a particular place could be something other than a 'real' Peace Corps site. This mindset is simply displaced anger at the reality of our own life onto the reality of another, at those who live in what some might consider an "easier" site.
The last La Vaina had a feature with this quote: "I took hot showers in site...I COS'ed on July 26th, but the guilt still persists." Why should taking hot showers by boiling our water be a luxury in which we're not allowed to partake? If a volunteer wants to warm up water for himself, no one should tell him he can or should not. Why is having electricity and Internet access worthy of scorn? We all live differently based on our sites, and even within that range of sites each volunteer can choose to live his or her own way. Sometimes we wash our clothes in the river or by hand, other times in a neighbor's washing machine or our own, and yet other times we treat ourselves to full service laundry at the nearest provincial capital. We all know better than to draw attention to ourselves by living extravagantly, but a hot shower or some peanut butter does not constitute extravagance.
The real problem is not that this mentality of martyrdom exists, but rather that we all preserve it. By making jokes, we become complicit in perpetuating that fallacy. It is preposterous and downright unhealthy to place suffering on a pedestal, to suggest that living isolated and never leaving the most remote site with limited access, having no cell phone or Internet service, eating little to no food, having little to no amenities, and engaging in absolutely no indulgences is somehow a more "real" Peace Corps experience than any other.
We are all real Peace Corps volunteers. We all earn our humble living stipend. By American standards we are paupers, but by local standards we are much closer to kings. We can choose to do with our money and our resources what we will. There is no reason to feel guilty about that. Volunteers give their time and their treasures. We struggle no matter where we live, how we live, or where and how we work on a daily basis. EH, SAS, CEC, and TE (note the implied ranking of sector from most difficult to least difficult site placement), we all face challenges.
To suggest that one volunteer is more legit than another only serves to perpetuate a stereotype that our lives in country are pitiable. It paints a picture of abject poverty and misery. It suggests that, in order to truly experience Peace Corps, we have to starve ourselves on a strictly rice and plantain diet, isolate ourselves by never leaving site, and not shower for days at a time. When in Rome, right? Wrong. The reason some of our community members live a certain way is because it is all they know, often all they can afford. Instead of humbling us, forcing that lifestyle only gives us a twisted reason to brag. Furthermore, this mindset distances us from our host country nationals. It erroneously assumes that all people who live a certain way fit into a certain category: sad, poor people. Yet, we all know better than to think people in our sites are depressed. What can happen is this: we return after our service and tell tales of our lifestyle, of how we lived two years like a poor campesino. Instead, we should be telling tales of that poor campesino's work ethic, bravery, or kindness. We potentially marginalize the same people we are supposed to serve. Our service is meant to help build a bridge between nations and remind us that we are all one people.
A lauded rendering of a difficult life does not change it in any way. Drawing comparisons to those who live differently, construed as better, and scolding them for doing so, is only an underhanded way of complaining about one’s own situation. We can only grow as volunteers when we stop complaining. Service in Peace Corps is not, nor has it ever been, a pissing contest over whose life is hardest. Remember that it's not the amount of hardship that matters, but how we choose to react to that hardship that defines our service.
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