Regarding: April 16th - April 23rd, 2017
"Going to do PC is the same as walking from a dark room into the bright sunlight. It’s blindingly bright, your eyes hurt terribly, you might feel ill. The difference is it takes 2 years for your eyes to completely adjust and be able to see what is in front of you. The bright white light gradually lessens to where you can see the contours of the land, then lessens more and you are able to see Them, the host community. Then it lessens and the honeymoon period is over and you see their warts, and your eyes keep adjusting and you see your warts, warts you never knew you had. You see later not just their warts but their good things, and you understand America and Americans better than ever before. Then finally its time to go home and you enter the dark room again, but this time with an enormous flashlight and body of knowledge you didn’t have before—a lasting permanent change, something with which you filter all the news media and cultural representations of Otherness and Privilege that you consume—and the people in the dark room are yelling at you to turn off the flashlight. But they are often like meth heads, unhappy, wasting away in the dark claustrophobia of their own piss and not realizing it. Some of them, however, will want to listen to your stories about the world Out There, and then changes start to happen to them.
*One scientific study looked at college students from the UK who did short-term volunteer programs in the developing world, and found that rather than lessen their racist instincts, it actually reinforced and made them stronger. The idea is that two weeks or a month is just enough time to go, have your stereotypes confirmed (poor sanitary habits, illiterate, superstitious, whatever) and to come back before learning otherwise. But those short-term people believe those things even more fully because now THEY’VE SEEN IT ALL WITH YOUR OWN EYES AND IT’S TRUE).
Peace Corps is great because you are there long enough to go there, have that happen to you, then to stick around long enough to realize there’s infinite more complexity at work. You gain and lose and regain and re-lose your respect for the community you are in, just as they are doing with you."
Hello all,
I wanted to open with that excerpt because I think describes, more articulately than I am able, what I have been feeling for the past week or two in service. I would recommend the entire article for an accurate, in my opinion accessible, look into the psychological struggle and gratification that comes with PC service, but for this post I'm just going to focus on one small part of the article:
"Then it [the white light] lessens and the honeymoon period is over and you see their warts"
Because I believe that is the phase I am in currently.
I had created this blog originally with the intent that I wanted to change the perception of Uganda by highlighting all of Uganda's wonderful qualities, but as I churned out articles, I realized they weren't really accomplishing that: Loneliness, restrictive dress code, lack of clean drinking water, sexual harassment and discrimination. The next topic that came to mind was something about "Cohabitation with Critters" after opening my flour to an infestation of weevils and seeing my shower floor moving as I looked at a layer of thousands of ants who had come up to find water.
These aren't topics that show Uganda and its people in a particularly positive light.
I was also struggling at site. I felt like I'd hit a roadblock where I wasn't making any new or more meaningful relationships with my community. I found myself grappling for conversation now that the initial phase of excitement and small-talk had passed. I realized I didn't even know what to say to my teachers beyond:
"How is home?"
"Home is fine."
"Great."
I felt frustrated with my community and myself, and I found myself becoming more reclusive as the struggle of finding common ground became more and more Herculean. I felt like a bad Peace Corps volunteer and wondered if this was the beginning to a failed service. Perhaps I would stay, finish out the two years, but not come back and be able to truthfully say I found "home away from home". I wanted to love my community and be loved in return, but man.
Peace Corps is hard.
Then, I was lucky enough that some people in my cohort found the aforementioned article. I read it and felt relief. There was hope that what I was going through was normal. I am not alone or a bad volunteer. Perhaps I'm just in a phase where I'm seeing the warts.
The first 3 months in Uganda, during PST, I can't even really count as being "in" Uganda. I was in an American bubble, completely surrounded by people who knew and spoke my culture fluently. Small inconveniences like dress code and drinking water quickly became inconsequential, and even the challenge of loneliness had dissipated by the time PST ended. I would say I first came to Uganda January 19th, 2017: After swearing-in. Which means, by now, I have truly only been in-country for 3 months.
The first month or two at site was an adjustment, but also kind of a whirlwind with easily defined progress points: Move in. Fix up my house. Meet my teachers. Make conversation. Brave 2,000 pupils. Figure out the market. Develop a routine.
That was all stressful, but in a fun, adventurous, exhilarating kind of way. The School Profile tool I'd been assigned also gave me a sense of purpose in my day-to-day activities at school. I was told to interview teachers, draw a map of the school, test pupils to find out their knowledge of literacy. I sat in on classes and became familiar with different classroom teachers, and we had the beginnings of conversations. Then, I went to Kampala for 2 weeks, and when I came back I felt happy to be welcomed back into what, I realized, had become my new normal.
But, for the past two weeks, the third month at site, I began to slide into a slump. Clear progress had come so easily at first, and now it seemed incremental or nonexistent. I liken it to trying to lose weight: The first pounds are easy to lose, but as progress becomes harder to see, it's easy to fall to despondency. And so it was with me.
I began to realize how little common ground I felt like I had with my teachers. Our cultures rarely interact so directly (When have I ever been exposed to African culture? How many of them have ever met an American?) and it feels like this is a grand test in finding common ground when it seems there may truly be none.
Our lifestyles: I did not grow up needing to fetch water, hand wash clothes, garden or watch younger siblings. I have always lived comfortably without worrying about money. I've been privileged to travel, both abroad and within America. I've been to college and I intend to continue with my education beyond Peace Corps, while many of my teachers became teachers precisely due to a lack of funds with which to continue with their education. Most Americans think having 6 children is large, while Ugandans think it's average. Most Americans speak one, maybe two languages, while most Ugandans speak two languages minimum. Privacy is almost nonexistent in Uganda, and pointing out someone's physical differences isn't considered rude. Standards of beauty are different -- my teachers are very confused as to why I am not trying to put on weight. And, a huge confession, I really do not like posho and beans.
Our politics and economics: America doesn't have tribes, and Uganda doesn't have states. Americans don't witness corruption to the same extent Ugandans do. Americans and Ugandans have different standards of living. America is a "melting pot" of cultures, but adheres to a fairly homogeneous culture overall. America, from state to state, is still America. Uganda is almost the opposite. Uganda is made up of Ugandans (and, to some extent, refugees), but the differences from region to region in Uganda are profound: Different languages, different customs, different gender roles, different levels of sexual harassment, etc. The vast majority of Americans don't own cows, chickens, or grow food to sell.
Beyond these initial differences, though, I've found a deeper hesitancy to conversation. Neither party wants to offend the other, and so we stay away from topics like politics, corporal punishment, sex, dating and real conversations about religion. How can we jump into such discussions when we can't even get past the basics? But from the little I've seen, although there are vastly different views within both America and Uganda, generally American and Ugandan culture overall have quite different takes on these topics.
As compared to Uganda, Americans keep their religious beliefs to themselves. I know this varies, but trust me it doesn't compare to the ubiquity of religion in Uganda. Here, religion is discussed as openly as the weather and is taught as a course in public schools. I've found Ugandans coexist incredibly well with people of differing religious beliefs, one exception being Atheism. Notably, Muslim and Christian relations in Uganda, despite the fervor with which religion is broadcast, seem much better than in America.
Sex in Uganda is not taught in public schools except to advocate abstinence, though I've heard it's not uncommon for pupils as young as primary school to begin experimenting with sex. Dating is very different in the two countries. Excuse my generalizations, I understand even within America (and Uganda) expectations and norms vary, but I'm going to report my experience generally in American culture.
Americans (generally) date only one person at a time and it's expected you end future advances by declaring "I have a boyfriend/girlfriend/husband/wife". Americans are expected to date several partners before getting married (or, at least are not frowned upon if they do date more than one person in their life). Generally, Americans date about year or more before becoming engaged. There is no real concept of a "dowry" in America. You can expect to tell if someone is married or not by whether or not they wear a ring. Once married, gender roles are fairly fluid, and it is not uncommon for couples to decide not to have children. Polygamy is strictly outlawed.
In Uganda, dating is relatively secretive. It is not uncommon for someone to date more than one person at a time, though it is not necessarily condoned either. Relationships are kept private, especially from the individuals' parents. To tell if someone is serious about you, you assess the number of phone calls she/he makes, and the duration of these phone calls. Saying "I have a boyfriend/girlfriend" is expected -- not a deterrent. Dating for four months is more appropriate length of time before engagement. In order to get married, the two families come together and haggle out a "bride price" that, yes, is paid in either cows or specie. You cannot tell if someone is married just by looking at their hand. One fundamental idea behind marriage is procreation, and families are much larger. Gender roles are more rigid. Polygamy occurs and is not against the law.
I've already touched on sexual harassment and gender roles in an earlier post, but the types and extent of discrimination is another difference I've found between America and Uganda.
These topics are hard to discuss even in America, but with my teachers here I find particular difficulty not only because they're controversial and I don't want to offend, but also because of the language barrier and because I don't think I'm in a place yet where I could listen to the viewpoints without judging them as inferior to my own. Even rereading what I've written, although I've tried to be objective, I'm not sure I've portrayed the topics as neutrally as I would have liked.
So, for the past two weeks, I have begun to appreciate, for the first time, just how much of a chasm spans between me and the culture I want to love. I wanted these to be the "best years of my life" where I fell in love with the country and all those around me. I wanted to be this worldly, enlightened soul who looked at both cultures objectively and saw the good in in the new and recognized the bad in my own. But I realized, dishearteningly, that I was doing the exact opposite. I was realizing all the things I appreciated about America, while clandestinely resenting all I do not appreciate about Uganda.
"One scientific study looked at college students from the UK who did short-term volunteer programs in the developing world, and found that rather than lessen their racist instincts, it actually reinforced and made them stronger. The idea is that two weeks or a month is just enough time to go, have your stereotypes confirmed (poor sanitary habits, illiterate, superstitious, whatever) and to come back before learning otherwise. But those short-term people believe those things even more fully because now THEY’VE SEEN IT ALL WITH YOUR OWN EYES AND IT’S TRUE."
Ah.
So this is the phase in which I quite unexpectedly found myself. I worried I would never get out, and I worried what that would mean for the rest of my service. More importantly, I worried what that meant for me as a person. Am I so closed minded I cannot appreciate any culture but my own?
But, then, just two days before I wrote this, I went to school, my teachers all greeted me, and I made a joke. One of my first jokes to land. I told them I would bring peanut butter and jelly to school and they could try some American food, and I could tell them that they were not eating enough. As we laughed, I felt normal.
Later that day, I sat outside my house to read and 11 neighborhood kids came stampeding to me, borrowed books in hand, asking if they could come inside and use my little library I've set up for them. We all went inside, they looked through the books my mom had sent me, they checked out new books and I stood guard over the door as I made sure they wrote their names and the book titles properly. When they had been cleared, I would let them leave with a dramatic flourish and declare: "You are free!" They would laugh, take their book to my stoop, sit down, and begin reading.
"You see later not just their warts but their good things"
Ugandans are welcoming, generous and warm. They have tolerance for difference, and are immensely respectful. There are so many good things to appreciate about their culture, just as there are so many good things to appreciate about my own.
I can't say I'm out of the phase of seeing their warts, and I don't think I ever completely will be. But I have confidence that, in ever increasing amounts, this phase will be replaced by seeing "their good things".
I think the final line is one of the most accurate:
"You gain and lose and regain and re-lose your respect for the community you are in, just as they are doing with you."
I know this to be true. My own teachers have interacted with me with curiosity, then resentment, then friendship, each taking its turn. Just as I have with them.
I think becoming "worldly" and "enlightened", for me, is more difficult than I expected. I have been left feeling frustrated. I think I have been spoiled in that "interacting with new cultures" has always meant cultures that meet me primed with a great deal of understanding about my culture, Western culture. It has been startling to meet a people who, for the first time, do not know me as I do not know them.
But I believe that the more difficult the challenge, the more rewarding the outcome; I am confident that will hold true for my time in Peace Corps Uganda. I feel lucky that I am truly being pushed out of my comfort zone, and will be for the next 20+ months. I am excited to see my perspective change as a result of this discomfort. I appreciate the people here putting up with my learning curve, teaching me as they are able, and reciprocating with patience and a willingness to learn about a culture as foreign to them as theirs is to me. I feel privileged to be an ambassador not only to bring America to Uganda, but also to bring Uganda home. I hope I am up to the challenge.
To conclude, I am coming to appreciate the extent to which a successful service will mean knowing it in its entirety, warts and all.
