My site is beginning to
feel more like home and leaving this quaint village is becoming increasing
difficult, as returning can be an emotionally strenuous process. The day
in which I return to my site after time away is usually spent isolating
myself and strengthening my mind and spirit for the impending cultural
challenges of the week. Nonetheless, I still at times depart, and even though I
am aware of the hardships involving the transition upon my homecoming, I will
continue to leave my assigned abode throughout my service.
There is a syndrome that
uniquely affects Peace Corps volunteers (most usually in the beginning stages
of services), where one never feels they are where they ought to be. For
example, if I choose to stay in my site and be a “good” volunteer instead of
attending my friend’s birthday celebration in a nearby city, I will feel
extremely guilty for missing out on the festivities commemorating a close
companion’s annual marker of growth. However, leaving inevitably pulls me from
under the blanket of integration that I have worked tirelessly to weave
throughout my past five months of service. A further complication is that
even when I am in my site, I never fully feel I am in right place or with the
right people. As a Peace Corps volunteer one is often pulled between the needs
and wants of several different communities. This may sound confusing, as a
hallmark of the government program is that Peace Corps Volunteers are given a
specific two-year site assignment towards the final stages of their initial
three-month training period. However, the notion of a single site becomes increasing
complex as it depends on how one evaluates the existence of sub-communities
within one’s permanent location. I reference my site as a good example of how
one community can easily be dissected into a mosaic of many.
I live in a municipal
capital, which was issued to me by my boss after an interview with regards to
my preferences, language abilities and experience. The municipality has
an urban center of about 3,000 residents and is surrounded by 50 rural
communities. This includes 57 schools, 9 health centers (8 of which are
smaller posts located in the rural communities), a Casa de Cultura, a NGO, a
library, dozens of churches, hundreds of pulperias and the 23,000 + individuals
which inhabit the area. Striking a balance between all these resources and
potential relationships is difficult. My counterpart is the health ministry,
and in my site is represented as the health center. The health center is more
like a hospital. The large structure encompasses its own community of doctors,
nurses, administration, security, cooks, cleaners, patients and dogs to name a
few of its daily inhabitants. I could spend my entire service at my health
center. In fact, I am often overcome by sentiments of guilt on the days that
are not mainly spent perusing through the many consult offices of this bustling
medical hub. However, as I crave to commit myself to one of the Peace Corps
mantras that volunteers are sent only to areas in greatest need, I often feel
inclined to pedal my tiny legs across the rough terrain that will lead me to
the communities in my municipality that lack very basic resources.
I yearn for the days
when I don’t feel the pangs of extreme shame as someone in my community on a
daily basis asks me “donde estabas?” or claims “has perdido?” (where were you?
or have you been lost?). The initial steps of integrating involve making
connections and in a more blunt manner, pleasing everyone. When we are told
that we have not been around enough by our fellow community members, we as
volunteers interpret this as having failed to accomplish our integration
efforts. The reality is that as one person it is impossible to satisfy
everyone’s needs in our communities. Also, it is important to recognize that at
times we as volunteers must be “selfish” and take care of ourselves. This may
involve a weekend away from site or a day locked in our houses reading Chekhov
and sipping a luxurious cup of Nicaragua’s finest roasted coffee beans. As
time’s conveyer belt inevitably moves me through the months of my service I
will become more comfortable with the people and resources in which I choose to
invest my time. As I have often expressed, my experience is about the quality
of the relationships I build as well as the projects I implement, rather than
the quantity.
One of the biggest
lessons I am learning thus far from this journey is that you have to trust
yourself and not waste too much time worrying of what other people think with respect
to both community members and other Peace Corps Volunteers. While as a
foreigner trying to integrate into a new culture you must be perceptive to
certain differences which may at times require transforming your behavior.
Finding a balance which allows you to hold onto your former identity prior to
your service is crucial to maintaining your mental health and ultimately being
a productive and successful volunteer. With regards to other Peace Corps
Volunteers, especially in Nicaragua where we are very well connected through
the benefit of a free texting and calling plan, it is important to remain
grounded in your reasoning for joining Peace Corps. While this unlimited form
of communication has its benefits, it at times can saturate the volunteer climate
with gossip and lead to hyper-competitiveness. This can ultimately
compound the already stressful situation surrounding volunteers and can dilute
the richness of this experience. I often must remind myself that while at
times it can be almost infectious to wrap my interests in both the
extracurricular and work related activities of other volunteers, this
experience is highly individualistic. What matters is the daily interactions
and conduct in my site. At the end of my two years I want my memories to consist
of the knowledge and perspective I gained from conversations with local
individuals who will most certainly impart a unique strength and wisdom to
support my future adventures and chase for wonder.