Advice to PCVs

I recently came across this article of advice for current Peace Corps Volunteers and liked it so much I wanted to share it with all of you on my blog. These are some really great thoughts that serve as powerful reminder of how we should operate to be most effective here. Enjoy.

When you’re thinking of ETing on a hot Tuesday morning when the borehole is broken and your supervisor is drunk, keep in mind the following…

(taken from 25 Tips for Peace Corps Volunteers by Kathy Gau and Lyle Jaffe)

If you want to change the world, change yourself. You cannot effectively contribute toward growth unless you are growing yourself. If you want to grow, drop your ego. Learn to identify when your ego is in play and develop strategies to quell it.

Use this experience to learn about yourself. This is the most important lesson. Try to remember it.

Development is disruptive. It implies changes in power relationships that result in uncertainty and loss. Few people willingly give up power unless they can see there will be gain. Most poor people cannot afford to change radically. It takes a huge amount of energy (physical and emotional) for average rural folk to maintain daily life, let alone try to break out of the poverty cycle.

Do not expect a smooth ride. Do not expect people to go out of their way to listen to you. People had a life before you came. They will continue to have a life after you leave.

You will not see tangible, measurable results in 2 years anywhere close to what you hope or expect. The saying that "what takes a day in USA takes a week in Africa, what takes a week in USA takes a month in Africa, what takes a month in USA takes 1 year in Africa" is close to true for reasons that you have no control over. So after your first month on the job, when you are still in USA mode, write down what you would like to achieve in 2 months time. This now becomes your 2 year work goal.

Don't want it more then they want it (or, don't show them how bad you want it to work). Find other ways to deal with your personal and professional frustrations regarding the work ethic, the what could/should/can be in the face of serious problems. You are but one step in a very long journey to address these problems. Concentrate on doing your step well and having fun.

There is no "us and them". Human beings are the same everywhere. Could you do it if it were you in their shoes? Don’t think for a moment that because you live in a hut and don’t make much money that you are in their shoes.

It doesn’t matter how right you think you are, if you haven’t developed a working relationship with someone, if you don’t approach your suggestion with the most sincere humility, you will not convey your message effectively. Think: do you want to be right or effective?

Learn how to yield effectively to win. Their life is not about your principles. Neither is mine or anybody else’s. Try to understand why people do what they do and then don’t judge. Work the problem with them, and your emotions with you.

What you experience is a sliver of time and space. Be careful not to generalize beyond this.

Pay attention to the way you feel when you spend time judging. If it feels bad, if you feel worse, then don’t do it. It isn’t pretty to watch people sit around doing the “these people syndrome”. If you find yourself doing it, it’s a sure sign that you have something to work out within yourself. Find it and work it out.

Do not think for a minute that your attitude towards people is unfelt. Everyone feels when they are being put down. Make people feel that they have grown in your presence.

Over a 2 year period, your task is really teaching. It might take 3 steps or it might take 21 steps. There is nothing right or wrong about the number of steps so do not judge as this is the same as saying "I have no hope that you can learn.”

Understand that your frustration is about you. It is about a diminishing sense of self-importance. Where else do your expectations regarding tangible achievements within your own timeframe come from? No one gets it right the first time or the second time. You need to constantly go back to the drawing board and revisit your starting point and your methods.

Do not give up and do not give in. Unfortunately, the process of development cannot be shortened. Respect that those you work with drew the short straw, appreciate that you did not. For now, your anguish, guilt and questions about this will just distract from the task at hand and are really rather self indulging, if you think about it.

Be a positive role model in your personal life, someone that young folk can aspire to become like. “Walk your talk.”

Peace Corps is first and foremost a cultural exchange program. You will learn more than you will give. Be prepared to change your understandings. You can only balance the formula if you change both sides of the equation.

To read more visit http://www.socialedge.org/blogs/beyond-good-intentions/archive/2009/08/07/25-tips-for-peace-corps-volunteers

Otoke Phrases

"If you think education is expensive, try ignorance."

- Otoke John to a student at KHS, 14 June 2011

I have to admit I love Otoke John's many phrases. They have a simple clarity and power to them. This one came up this week as he was talking to a student who failed to raise 500 shillings (about 20 cents) to pay an agriculture teacher to come and teach to the S4s. Currently, our school is without an agriculture teacher. So this one volunteered to come in and teach 4 hours on Saturday morning if each student paid 500 shillings for his transport and upkeep.

Not an unreasonable proposition from what I understand of the local culture. Especially since most of these students are getting their education for free for the most part. It does seem, however, that it could be a little expensive if many students do show up. 10 for a total of 5,000 vs. 100 for a total of 50,000 for example. I just don't know.

Lots of staff and students sick these days. They say it is the season for flu here. Although I don't really believe that since we are in the land of perpetual summer and thus experience no seasons. I still find it humorous though when I hear my colleagues walking around saying it is flu season. Maybe they know something I don't, probably.

"Sometimes freedom enslaves you."

I liked this one too. It came up one evening when I we were talking about different addictions that Americans have in the states, whether it be drugs, alcohol, Blackberrys, cigarettes, food, television, sex, gambling, whatever. It got me thinking about the contrast between the two worlds. In America, people have enough money and access to develop these habits. In Uganda, people cannot afford such behaviors. Nor do they have access to such items and venues that enable these vices to persist in much of the developed world.

It's true. We are indeed enslaved by the many freedoms we have. We have the ability to choose, every single day, exactly what we want to do with that day, whether it be good or bad. Ugandans have this ability too, I suppose. We just have more resources at our disposal.

School Life Continued

Monday morning could have gone better. My S4 stream has been essentially out of control as of late and I've been devising methods to simmer them down a bit so that we can actually focus. The problem is there are basically 130+ students crammed into this classroom. At that many students, any form of control is not achieved easily, if at all.

My latest strategy was to have the class captains and a few others write down the names of those students that were acting out in class. They delivered them to me last week and on Monday I read the list of names and quickly dismissed each student from my lesson for the day. This was done with the intention of silencing them in the future.

Shortly after I ended my lesson, the students who were excused became very angry at the class captains for writing down their names. The class captains of course denied writing the names and I did everything I could to try and persuade them that they were not the ones who had written the names and that they should not even be concerned with who wrote them. The excused students began picking up sticks and threatening to cane those that allegedly wrote the names.

Upon seeing this commotion, about four other teachers ran out of the staff room with large sticks in their hands. They asked each student that was on the list to lie down on their stomachs as they yelled at the entire class. Three or four teachers walked around with the sticks striking the students lying on the ground, all of them receiving multiple strokes and some receiving up to five or six and a couple crying in pain.

That morning deeply affected me. I'm used to seeing caning. But I knew that there were a couple really smart students on the ground. They also happened to be the ones crying. These students are smart but they also shout and act out in class. After the village justice session concluded, I personally went up to them and apologized for what had transpired. I let the students know that it wasn't my intention and I didn't think they deserved it. I guess I need to find a new method.

The conversation at lunch that day was certainly interesting. Apart from the usual diatribes about "these children" and "indisciplined students", the topic of circumcision arose. One of the teachers (a male) asked another teacher (a female), "What do you think about this thing, circumcision, because it's becoming quite common these days." The female responded that she had no point of reference and could not comment.

The costs and benefits, problems and opportunities of circumcision were then debated in great detail amongst the members of my school. They talked about the practice of circumcision reduces the likelihood of contracting HIV/AIDS. One teacher mentioned that circumcision reduces the sensitivity of the penis and enables the man to increase his sexual stamina, thereby making him more likely to satisfy the woman during sex. The members agreed. Some members objected and said the man would not be able to be satisfied because of the reduced sensitivity and would thus communicate mixed, wrong, and hurtful message to the woman.

It was such an intense conversation about a very personal topic. I was a bit astonished while witnessing it develop. I kept trying to draw comparisons of a similar situation occurring in US high school teachers' staff room. I could not imagine. Ugandans are so open about certain topics but so reserved and timid about others. I don't really completely grasp it. I guess all cultures are like this. I tried to add to the conversation with little tidbits of information I had picked up along the way about the practice. They were well receieved. It was entertaining.

Meet Aisu Fiona

Aisu (pronounced I-ee-soo) Fiona, besides having a pretty awesome name, is one of the smartest students in my S4 class. She's pictured above in my main photo on the far left.

She's one of those students who comes to school every day and arrives on time. She asks questions in class and participates actively. She has a lot going for her. She visits me in my office often to talk about school and America.

Her home is about an hours walk from the school. So she spends two hours a day walking to and from school, five days a week, sometimes on weekends too. I see her all the time when I run in the morning.

She is 16 years old, very young for S4, impressive. She is the third born of seven children. She has one brother and five sisters.

The eldest sibling is a primary school teacher. And the second born is at Kyambogo University studying Information Technology. So her potential to move past A-level and onto university looks pretty promising. I'm happy for her.

She is lucky enough to still have both her parents, Okanya Sam and Asuma Mary. When she grows up, she wants to be a doctor.

She is an Itesote by tribe and speaks four languages: Ateso, English, Luganda, and Lugwere.

She epitomizes the reason I teach.

My Souvenir from South Africa

Earlier I alluded to the two sides of the South African healthcare system and said I would elaborate more later on. As promised, here it goes...

One early morning during the first week of May, my friend Renee and I set off on a 9 mile run in preparation for a half marathon we were planning on running on May 22nd. Apart from the fact that we were both in beautiful South Africa, there was nothing unusual about this particular day. We had been staying with a friend from CouchSurfing.org and had told our third travel mate John that we would be back in an hour and a half or less. Needless to say, that didn't happen.

We were about 32 minutes into our run. We were both feeling pretty good. But staring back at us dead ahead was a T-intersection and we had to make a decision on which way to go. Both of us being completely unfamiliar with the area entirely, I suggested we go left. Which we did. We had come down a long gradual hill to the intersection and were taking in the peaceful heart rate relief it provided before we crossed the road and cut left, continuing our run against traffic (they drive on the left in SA) as you are supposed to while running. Minute 34 of the run rolls around. We notice that the road is slowly transitioning from dense urban to country open and thus the traffic is increasing speed and, well, increasing. Minute 35 and we notice a lot of traffic in the left lane (far lane). We round a corner to the right and are inundated with sunlight. Cars passing in the left lane. Now cars are passing those cars in the right lane, and right next to us.

Renee and I are on the shoulder, though by this time we are running single file due to the three or four previous cars that pass us carelessly missing us by a few inches. The last one doesn't miss. Renee had been running slightly to the left in front of me and becomes the first and only victim of the collision. She gets clipped and knocked to the pavement.

For the first second, maybe two, it appears to me that Renee barely got grazed and had been knocked down, and maybe her injuries might not be as serious. Then I realize the car was probably going about 30 mph at least, and nothing involving hundreds, thousands of pounds of metal, plastic, and rubber colliding with the human body is not serious at that speed. Post-collision-second three settles in and I hear the first scream of agonizing pain. Renee is hurt. I go to her. One look at the shoe on her right foot tells it all. The fabric and rubber on the back heel is peeling off, a gaping hole on the right side, and the material just above the toes is shreaded. More agonizing. The car stops. Two men get out and walk to me. They stare. That's all they do. They just stare at this woman who is yelling and crying in pain.

"Call an ambulance now!" I yell at them in frustrated anger, not understanding why the hell they are not doing shit.

"We don't know the phone number for an ambulance." They respond back, barely audible to me in the chaos.

I lift Renee off the pavement and out of the way of more oncoming traffic and place her on the grass.

"You're taking us to the hospital then!" I tell them as I pick her up and slide her into the back seat.

A woman is in the driver's seat. I tell her to take us to the hospital. The two other men have been left behind but it's too late at this point and my concern is not with them. She takes us to the closest hospital there is. It happens to be a public hospital. After a lot of confusion and poor navigating by the driver and myself, we arrive at the ER entrance. We somehow manage to locate a wheelchair and wheel her in. Again, trying to navigate where to go, no one seems to be too concerned. We wheel her into a huge waiting room filled with people waiting to see...someone.

I try and get her a doctor right away. This is much harder than it sounds. People keep telling me I absolutely must fill out form XYZ before she can receive any care whatsoever. I'm so frustrated I just keep wheeling her deeper into the hospital until I see some form of healthcare professional in the form of doctors and nurses. I wheel her up to the station and go back to complete the stupid form.

Nobody understands what the hell I'm saying. They all looked confused and are wondering why I'm so amped up. I wait around for a long time, waiting for this awful form. It finally comes. Of course it doesn't help that we happened to be running during the incident and I have absolutely nothing on my person. No ID, no passport, no money, no phone, no address, no phone numbers to call, nothing. And I had no idea where we were either. I had a wristwatch though!

Finally some woman offers to help me with her address and contact info so we can fill out this damn form and get Renee some treatment. The driver of the car comes to me and apologizes. Her lawyer is here already. What the hell? You call your lawyer 10 minutes after we arrive at the hospital? She must have been freaking out! I was beginning to not like her even more. I ask her if she can take me to my friend's house, I think I can find it at this point.

We go there, I tell John what happened. We go back to the hospital. Renee is still waiting for... anything. By now this is two hour after the injury. An hour later, they take x-rays and recommend we transfer her to a private hospital. One problem though, the hospital won't let us leave until we pay them for the x-rays. I have nothing on me. John has a credit card from the US that he is hoping to pay with, but nobody is there to take the payment, we're waiting for some person for some unknown reason. John, Renee, and I decide that I will take Renee to the new hospital in our rental car and John will stay back and handle the payment. Renee and I burst out of the hospital in search for our new home for the next week.

We pull away, go up the road, and pull a U-turn. Ten seconds later as we are passing by the same hospital, I see John come running out the ER doors across the road and towards the car with an envelope. I slow to a stop. John gets in. "Go Joe! Go Joe! Go Joe! I didn't pay them!" He shouts. This of course causes me to laugh hysterically and makes me feel a little bit better that we inflicted some small form of revenge on this horrid hospital with such shitty service. In the end, we knew Peace Corps would pay the hospital for all the costs so we weren't too concerned. And it changed the tone from somber seriousness to situational hilarity.

We arrived at the private hospital, aka heaven. My God. It was night and day. We walked into the ER and they already had Renee's forms that Peace Corps had faxed over on the front desk. They wheel her in and within minutes a doctor and two nurses begin treating her. John and I sit there with her in the ER, entertaining ourselves with push up competitions and a ginormous sack full of fresh South African produce and peanut butter. Renee has surgery that night.

There are numerous thoughts and lessons that I took away from this experience. I'd like to highlight a few.

1) I feel bad for the millions of South Africans that cannot afford private insurance and have to wait in those long lines and put up with that crappy service.

2) I hate bureaucracy.

3) South African healthcare is pretty darn good, if you go to the right hospital.

4) You can still have a great time on holiday if something really bad happens, traveling is about the experiences! I don't know if Renee can say the same. But we truly enjoyed being there to support her and entertain her at the hospital. And when we weren't there, we explored South Africa!

5) Peace Corps has their act together when it comes to taking care of their own.

6) And most importantly! WE ARE NOT INVINCIBLE!

What's that you say? Not invincible? Yes! It's true. Indestructible, we are not. Most of the 29 great human beings that were in my Peace Corps group fall somewhere in the early to mid-twenties range. At this age, this is how a lot of us tend to feel. We feel invulnerable, unconquerable, immortal. Combine this with living in Uganda as a Peace Corps volunteer and you've got yourself one deadly cocktail.

The truth is, no matter how little we may think about it, we are fragile. We are capable of sustaining life changing events in the blink of an eye. The risks are there. The statistics hammer them home, and they don't lie. As Peace Corps volunteers, and I'm generalizing here, we tend to have a more "adventurous" spirit. And there's nothing wrong with that. I could be in the safest neighborhood in the cozy US of A and walk out my front door in the morning and get slaughtered by a drunk driver. The risks are everywhere. The calling I'm making to everyone is to be cognizant of them. Think every situation through and make the best decision you can at that time. Have a system in place and stick to it, because that is the best safeguard you can have for your own self.

Did Renee and mine's decision entail some risk? Of course. Was it wrong for us to make that decision? Certainly not in my opinion. In the end that's all that we can really say about that event, it is a real bummer, a terrible accident, and completely unfair. The prognosis on Renee? Fuzzy at best. Some doctors say she won't run again, others have different opinions. Knowing Renee, she will be running a 5K in a few months, she has that level of mental fortitude, I have very little doubt about that.

So Renee, I look forward to traversing Uganda's crappy dirt roads with you when you get back. As long as we do a full assessment of every single pothole, crevasse, massive rock, intersection, and vehicle within a 10 mile radius first.

Stay safe and be well.

Pictures from Dad's Visit

My dad recently visited me in Uganda for two weeks. These are pictures from the trip. Enjoy!