Peace Corps Volunteer Leader, a Wealth of Experiences
Peace Corps in generally is a time we get a heavy dose of
life, seeing an entirely new perspective and way to live. How much more so this
third year has been now that I’m in a position to support other Volunteers,
hearing more of the good, the bad, and in the in between than my first two
years combined. I’ve moved from one conversation where someone has shared their
excitement with how everything’s fallen into place, to immediately after
sympathizing with someone whose work fell through, and then right after that
trying to explain to a third Volunteer how the issues they’ve experienced at
site are actually a normal part of the culture. It’s kept me on my toes.
Working with our support staff in Manila has taught me a
great deal about management and the challenges any organization faces. Unlike
newer Peace Corps posts, we have a pretty veteran staff in the Philippines who
can recall back to Volunteers from ten years ago or more. I had first thought I
might be there to really seal in a gap somewhere in our office, I’ve ended up
more of the cherry on top, the office can function without a Peace Corps
Volunteer Leader, but I have been one more pair of eyes, another set of hands
to help out and ease the workload from others. I’ve had countless rich
conversations, especially with our Filipino staff about American culture from
our drive to have extracurricular activities and how that makes Volunteers so
competitive in getting into one our committees, to the preconceptions of
culture having to do with festivals and food but not considering values and
behavior. I’ve tried to pick up on some of the good practices I’ve seen from
holding back, to the art of asking questions, to figuring out when to let go
and when to hold firm.
I’ve said before that Peace Corps has been a chance for me
to have more responsibility and leadership than I’d probably get in a job back
in America, and a feel it’s been doubly so for this third year. However, just
like my service in Dupax, being PCVL hasn’t had its own trials and
tribulations.
Strengths and Weaknesses
Although I’ve kept my dry, satirical sense of humor off the
blog for the most part, people who know me have had the pleasure (or pain), of
listening to me make absurdity out of the serious. Claims of divine right to
rule the islands, a desire to replace to Coastal Resource Management training
materials with “One Fish Two Fish Red Fish Blue Fish” by Dr. Seuss, saying “all
the perks and none of the works!”, are all just a few examples. I amuse myself.
However, although for the most part it’s been fine, my humor’s been
misunderstood a few times, one case being when I made a crack that an upcoming
two week conference would have zero alcohol was taken seriously, and led to
some annoyed Volunteers. It was a good lesson for me to be more careful of what
I say. Even as I reflect back on my humor that didn’t backfire on me, it wasn’t
necessarily the best way to present myself as a leader. We’re taught from a
young age to just be ourselves, but I think that although we shouldn’t be
someone we’re not, it’s important to emphasize certain qualities over others at
times. In this case, I would have been best served showing my serious, deeper
side more often.
The other trip up that comes to mind was my strong need to
add my voice. I joined in discussions and debates feeling that I needed to
contribute at least a little bit to it, but soon enough some of the staff let
me know not to worry so much about saying something all the time. Think about
it, filter through ideas first, and if there were meetings when I was silent,
it wasn’t a problem at all.
They’ve both been good things to learn about myself, and
about working in a management position, but luckily I’ve also found some
strengths as well. It has been a great experiencing working with two cultures
and bringing a better understanding between both. Working with new and old
staff and Volunteers about a variety of issues, most of them having at least a
little to do with cultural differences has gone pretty well. One of those times
was recently working with our Diversity Committee. Diversity is very, very
difficult subject as even the most conscious of us aren’t on the same page
sometimes. Do we say black or African American? Do we say LGBT, LGBTIQA, or
should we not lump those all together? Is it the third world, a developing
nation, a poor nation, etc? That’s just the definitions (which I’ve heard
contradicting beliefs on all those and more), let alone once we dig into the
heart of these issues and how they pertain to service. What I did though was to
ask our committee to really focus on how we can come up with solutions to the
challenges Volunteers face, not venting, and to not get constrained too much by
fearing to offend anyone, but to be mindful and ready to adapt if toes do get
stepped on.
The year has also been a great time to test my
self-discipline. At times when I’ve struggled, whether from having a cold, bad
news from home, stress at sight, etc, and I’ve found myself in a position to
support someone else, I put my own issues to one side to do what I had to. When
I was a Volunteer support was often a teeter totter, going back and forth, but
being PCVL the support is a lot more one sided, and pushing through any current
struggles to be on top of my game has made me feel a lot more confident as a
professional.
I think one last thing that comes to mind as a strength is
that I do care. Even when someone disregards my advice and gets mad, or when I
know someone’s been dancing around the rules, I’ve still rooted for them to
have a successful service. When people succeed I do feel happy for them, just
as I really do feel for it when people struggle with their service. As I said
above, it’s a bit of a roller coaster going from highs to lows listening to
Volunteers, but I believe I’ve been successful at it because it matters to me,
and I don’t have to worry about pretending.
Jerome
During one of the conferences, I was attending an optional
evening session when I received a text. I took a look at it in case it was
important, in case I was needed elsewhere. It was from my host sister during my
training. My host father Jerome had passed away. I quickly collected my things,
and silently left so I could find a place alone to grieve, and find out the
details and when the funeral would be. Half an hour later I informed the staff
I’d be skipping out on the weekend field trip to head up to La Trinidad to pay
my respects.
Getting there wasn’t as easy as it should’ve been. The
annual Flower Festival up north was happening and I had to wait an extra day to
get up there. I arrived at night on Saturday believe the service was Sunday
morning. The burial was, but the service had been going on for three days
straight, and when I arrived at the house I stayed at while learning Ilokano
and the do’s and don’ts in the Philippines, I found the front yard packed with
people. I waited for a few minutes until I received another text from my host
sister beckoning me to come inside.
What I found inside was a score of elderly women who had
come down from the Mountain Province where my host family was originally from,
rocking back and forth and chanting, some of who could barely see, some of who
had the traditional bands of tattoos that have fallen out of use in the
country. Like so often in my time here, I was the only foreigner, and much the
topic of curiosity.
It was a night where cultures and eras clashed and mixed
together, Christian songs were sung outside while traditional music was spoken
within. We watched a PowerPoint slide of his final years, and I discovered my
family had a lot more pictures of me wearing the loincloth I used for our
Swearing In cultural performance than I remembered. They asked me to speak, and
I did, in the language Jerome helped teach me. I shared my tears with them
showing a bit of the Western culture of sadness at funerals. I came to find out
that the women weren’t chanting, but that they were making up the song and
steps as they went along, making jokes and celebrating his life and so I
cheered up and accepted their happiness in return. The next morning he was
buried about a five minute walk away from the house.
I remember my first time meeting Jerome. We drove from
Manila to La Trinidad and were introduced to our host families. Jerome seemed
shy, and a little overwhelmed by the crowd, making me worried that for two
months I’d be with a man too timid to speak. However, when we departed for the
house he relaxed and after I put my things inside I sat out on the porch with
him. At first I pointed to objects and asked for the Ilokano word and he
replied. Soon enough we both fell silent, and after half an hour of quiet I
realized that everything was going to be all right, not just with him, but with
my service.
To date, I feel my greatest success as a Volunteer was being
a part of his life, and being there at the end.
Sunrise
I’ve missed out on a lot of vacations that my friends have
taken in the Philippines. Sometimes I had work, other times I didn’t have the
money for it. I have tried to go on more trips my final year though, I have
plenty of vacation days (honestly, with two vacation days a month, plus
holidays… a lot more than I need), and it’s been good with the added
responsibility to force myself to have more fun now and then. Perhaps the most
memorable trip I’ve taken was to Mount Pulag, the tallest mountain one the main
island of Luzon, and the second biggest in the Philippines (the tallest is in a
restricted area). With only a couple of days forewarning, another Volunteer
asked if I was interested, and feeling spontaneous, I said why not? After all,
it was Holy Week and everyone was off work.
A group of eight of us Volunteers, plus one Filipino friend
of some of the group, all met in Baguio city. We took a bus to the base camp,
hired a guide, and took about a four hour hike up to the campsite. It was cold,
even by American standards, and none of us were really equipped for it used to
a lot warmer weather. We rented a small tent that we had to jam pack in, and I
think we averaged about two hours of sleep that night. As I’ve continuously
said, service gets you used to challenges, make you more patient, and it shined
that night as though we were all tired, cold, and annoyed, we laughed it off
knowing we’d all have a good story to tell. We woke up around three in the
morning, to make the final hour worth of hiking, and made it with about twenty
minutes to spare before I was treated with the most beautiful sunset I’ve ever
seen in my life.
Coming from Colorado with the Rocky Mountains, that was no
small feat, but we were above the clouds that made an ocean of white below the
green hills that led up to the summit. It was like watching two sunrises at
once, the first once which lit up the clouds, the second making a contrasting
color once the sun peaked over the cloud line. Having a great conversation with
a pretty girl to boot, it was a trip well worth it, and these excursions have
added a lot of great memories. I made it back to my own site by the end of the
day, and I slept and slept and slept.
One more to go…
The Peace Corps has been a time to really learn more about
myself, to figure out what I’m doing well at, and what I need improvement on,
and that’s really helped me figure out what to do next in my life. The memories
have been both brilliant and bittersweet.
For my final post recapping the lost time, I’ll talk about
my plans after service, and working with the new batch that came in this July.
