Motivation to Serve

First, I’d like to admit, that I joined the Peace Corps for selfish reasons.  I wanted to meet new people, learn a new language and culture, challenge myself and explore my limits, and generally enrich my life.  I was not under the illusion that I was flying to the Gambia to save people or even to help people necessarily.  I was flying to the Gambia for me, and whatever came out of it, well great.  But recently, I was asked about my sacrifice and my service.  What is it in me that makes me go beyond our project plan in the education sector? What is it that makes me seek out positive interactions, understanding, and common ground?  What makes me continue to serve others and sacrifice in the face of rudeness, apathy, inefficiency, and injustice? It is one thing to join the Peace Corps.  It is another thing entirely to be here and constantly thinking about what good I might do in the Gambia.  What is my motivation for service? Why do I choose to engage in my Peace Corps service the way that I do?

It can’t be the money.  Nor fame, though the increasing number of followers on my blog is quite flattering.  Perhaps it’s a firm belief that my life’s experiences, whether they are Peace Corps, dishwashing, or undergoing surgery, benefit me by molding me into a more complete person and a better teacher. Though, I can’t say that my daily actions are motivated by personal and career development. No, I think what motivates me runs deeper than the extrinsic, material motivators.  What motivates me is a world view and existential belief that runs straight to my core.  This view, that my life is made meaningful by my positive interactions with others, drives all that I do.  Let me try to explain.

I have a choice in my interactions with others.  I know that how I carry out my role in these interactions will make my life mean something.  I have a choice to interact with others.  And I have a choice to make those interactions positive ones.  By filling my life with positive interactions, I increase the joy and positivity within myself.  Just smiling at someone can cause my heart to flutter and listening attentively to my friend’s story makes me feel useful and loyal and worthy of friendship.  Just think of how these interactions compounded can affect my mood, my self-esteem, and my feelings of efficacy.  And if my interactions can also give a fraction of those feelings to others, then that seems right and good, too.

I see daily people carrying stress, fear, insecurity, and loneliness.  I recognize these feelings because I have felt them myself. There are a lot of these feelings in the world.  They seem to happen naturally, as our response to living life. And maybe, in the vast sea of humanity, my contributions, my life will go unnoticed.  But in my lifetime, I’d prefer my actions and interactions, noticed or not, to be towards increased joy, feelings of worth and security, peace, and above all, love.  I don’t see my life as a scale, my actions as weights tipping the scale to good or evil. I think good and evil are a bit more complicated than that, a bit gray.  Rather, I see humanity moving in waves towards and away and parallel to these dichotomous absolutes.

Nick.  Don’t tell me you wouldn’t buy Starbucks from this guy!

I believe that my positive interactions don’t change me alone but increase positivity in others so that they may go and foster similar interactions with people in their lives. Ask Nick about working at Starbucks and what would happen when I costumer would buy a drink for the next person in line.  It would cause a chain of goodwill, of drinks as gifts to strangers.  Granted, those waiting in line at Starbucks have already come to terms with the opportunity cost of purchasing a fancy coffee drink for $4.95 (is that how much Starbucks costs these days?) so they may not have considered the money spent as a gift, rather as the amount they should have paid for their coffee.  But the good feeling that I believe must have been passed along was not something the customers had budgeted for.  And just as a positive interaction can cause a chain of positive interactions in others, so too, can a negative one.  But it is rarely as simple as a line of charitable people at Starbucks.  Who knows which of those customers went home to reconcile a fight with a sibling?  Or who wrote a letter to their Grandma?  Or stepped in a puddle, spilled their drink, and spent the day totally pissed off?  One can’t really know where a simple interaction might lead and who directly or indirectly it might affect.  In my mind, though, each interaction starts a wave, or maybe just a ripple, that sends forth positive or negative energy into the world, into the unknown. It seems simple, when I ask myself, in which direction will I focus my own energy? Do I want my energy in the sea of humanity to be building a wave towards increased fear and hatred?  Or strengthening the wave towards greater peace and love?  It’s a simple question.  And it’s not always easy to apply to actions and interactions.  Not all the time. But that is what drives me. I try to choose and seek interactions with others that are positive.  I want to make others feel secure, accepted, understood, and loved. That’s what gives my life purpose. I joined the Peace Corps for selfish reasons, but what motivates me to serve and sacrifice would have me making similar choices for the same reasons whether I was teaching in inner-city Detroit, volunteering at ArtPrize, or working as a nanny for a multi-millionaire in Europe (why did we pass that up, Brie?).

USA USA USA!

My friend Ralph Waldo Emerson captures the way I feel in his poem, To Laugh Often and Much:

To laugh often and much;
to win the respect of the intelligent people
and the affection of children;
to earn the appreciation of honest critics
and endure the betrayal of false friends;
to appreciate beauty;
to find the best in others;
to leave the world a bit better
whether by a healthy child,
a garden patch,
or a redeemed social condition;
to know that one life has breathed easier
because you lived here.
This is to have succeeded. 

And that’s how I feel.  I don’t need to do anything big.  I don’t need to be recognized by others to feel important.  I only want what I do in this world to be for increased good.  If I’m remembered, let it not be for great actions, let it be for the way I made you feel.

Don’t worry, I don’t have any idea what I’m doing most of the time!

**Disclaimer** I was nervous about publishing this essay.  I know it’s a bit fluffy and idealistic but, hey, I’m a PEACE CORPS VOLUNTEER! I guess I’m also worried about sending the message that my life and my service have been perfect.  Or that I am perfect.  Don’t believe it! I have been rude.  I have walked away from people as they’re talking to me.  I have scared small children to the point of crying (in front of my own childcare providing mother!).  I have locked myself up in my house to get away from the very interactions I claim to seek.  My service has not been perfect, and I am not perfect.  As we say in the Gambia, it’s not easy, deh! Really, this was a nice way to reflect on my service and perhaps refocus my goals and gain a refreshing take on my interactions for the next five months.  So thank you, Greg, for the question. And the rest of you?  Go smile at someone or hold a baby or buy someone a drink at Starbucks.  And know that whether you’re a Peace Corps Volunteer or not, we’re all making the same choices.  I hope you have a positive interaction today!

Goodbye Team ExTreme

Many of my friends in my Peace Corps the Gambia cohort are heading back to the US as I type this.  Here’s hoping they all make it back safe, eat some delicious first meals, and have some awesome welcome home receptions!  You will be missed Team Extreme!

Rachel, Sarah, Steph and I cooking dinner in the transit house.

Bonnie and I feeling awesome because we’re riding all the way to Bwiam.

Laura and I at our naming ceremony during training.

Bonnie, Sarah, and I playing out an Alpha scenario during training.

Laura!

Bonnie, Steph, and my hair asobi.

The best training team. The Fulas.

Sarah radiates class. Always.

USA USA USA!

Rachel and Sarah saying goodbye then.

What training is all about!

That one time Rachel and I made Jachels.

(Lack of) Internet

As I prepare to say goodbye to many of the people I came to the Gambia with, my thoughts travel with them back to the US. When I think about going home, I think about my relationship to the internet and how my dependence on the internet will drastically change. In the Gambia, my dependence on the internet has varied at different points in my service but most often has revolved around communicating with friends and family. Early on, if I had internet, I was glued to Facebook and google to see if the people I missed the most would sign on to chat. Eventually, I settled into a routine of checking my email and video chatting with my family weekly. When I lost my ability to video chat, I checked the internet less frequently. At times, lack of functional technology and therefore the inability to communicate has been really frustrating. But I have also learned to appreciate this lack and the way it shapes my life here.

In the US, I enjoyed cooking for people and trying out new recipes I found online. With unlimited ingredients, I could pretty much pick the most saliva-inducing image on foodgawker.com and make it. With the limited ingredients available to me at site, I’d need either an application that provides recipes with a limited list of ingredients (I hear that exists!) or I have to get creative and experiment. Some of my favorite cooking experiences with friends here have not been in Kombo with the internet at our fingertips and a vast array of ingredients. My favorite cooking experiences have been figuring out what to do with peanuts, bread, eggplant, onions, tomatoes, potatoes, eggs, bouillon cubes, and pasta. And then trying to make something new and delicious with those same ingredients the next time and the time after that. All this with a gas burner, knife, two bowls, some mugs, and some spoons. Now that is creative cooking.

Homemade tortillas, beans, and mango salsa with Dan. Yum!

I have to get creative with problem solving, too. I’ve often had questions about gardening, fixing my bike, killing rats, or the strange rash that just appeared on my arm. I enjoy living in a world where the answers to these questions are just some cleverly selected key words typed into google away. But I’ve also gained appreciation for how I solve these problems without the answers immediately presenting themselves. Here’s my process. Step 1: Let the problem fester. Try to forget about it because there is not an apparent or ready solution. Step 2: As Peter D. advises me when it comes to problems with my bike, just stare at it a while. Well, I stare Peter. I stare and think about the processes at work and try to logic my way to a solution. Step 3: I tinker. This step can either be really rewarding, or make the problem way worse. Step 4: Sometimes, the answer is in a book that I have. Peace Corps provided us with a health manual and garden guide that have been very enlightening despite their lack of links to Wikipedia pages with more information. Step 5: Present the problem to my host family and accept the fact that I will have to try whatever they suggest despite my skepticism. Step 6: I tell everybody about my problem. People can be really full of advice and really seem to enjoy helping me solve my problems. Eventually someone more knowledgeable than me comes along and suggests something that works. For all you pre-internet folks, this step-by-step probably sounds pretty natural and obvious. But it’s not very often, in the internet world, that my process is more than two steps. The internet automatically does Step 6 for me with a much larger sample size (and anonymously!) so why bother with all the other steps. Well, I have been forced to embrace and appreciate the other steps. It’s something I hope to take with me into my future of teaching and helping to raise children in an answer-is-one-click-away world.

Most people know Peter D. as that bike dude. I know Peter D. as the problem-solving guy.

I remember talking with my Uncle Tim about how boring conversations are now that the internet is present and even a part of these conversations. Uncle Tim, I think, was the type of person who enjoyed a discussion for the discussion’s sake and an argument for the same reason. It’s understandable why coming to a conclusion about the difference between raisins, sultanas, and currants by looking up the definitions on the internet would be disappointing in its quick dousing out of any discussion. I understood that point of view then, but I also was one to quickly Wikipedia an answer. I was hungry for the knowledge and the facts and the truth. It wasn’t until the internet was out of my reach that I relinquished that hankering and began to take delight in reasoning, postulating, and BS-ing my way to an answer. Suddenly, our conversation about how papayas reproduce lasts hours and even longer the less we know about the subject. And the funny thing is, we often leave the discussion promising to find out the real answer, once we get to the internet. Usually, no one does.

Enjoying food and conversation with site mates and no internet.

Boredom used to mean spending hours browsing Facebook and other sites because there was nothing better to do. I now have a whole different concept of boredom. Boredom means spending hours sitting in the shade with people you don’t understand (but it doesn’t matter because they aren’t saying much anyway) and, if you’re lucky, cracking some peanuts AND knowing that that is what you’ll be doing the next day and the day after that and the day after that. Sure, I’ve read quite a few more books than I would normally (Lianna, I’m on the Drums of Autumn!) and I’ve perfected (well, from what I can see in my handheld mirror) my French braid. But I think I’ve become good at boredom, too. I’ve become good at not finding anything to fill my time and just letting myself be absorbed in doing nothing. So good, that it is sometimes preferable to my usual boredom busters. I’ve actually been on the 4 hour bus ride to Kombo, opted not to read my book or listen to music, and just sat letting my mind wander. I guess my mind has become an experienced wanderer. And it’s nice to think that is the case. While my mind was constantly exploring new and interesting input from Facebook or Pinterest, rarely did my mind have the opportunity to just explore the depths of my memory and reflect on my own current activities and relationships.

Look how good we are at being bored!

I don’t think I’ll return to the US sworn off the internet because of my new found appreciation for life without it. Just as I wouldn’t refuse to see my friends and family just because I’ve learned to enjoy the powerful feelings of fondness and longing I experience in their absence. And I don’t doubt that there are many people who live unfettered from internet dependence and for whom my revelations don’t come as novel insight. It’s a wonder, really, that it took joining the Peace Corps, travelling to Africa, and installing myself in a rural Gambian village to develop such simple observations. But, I’m glad for the experience nonetheless. Much like the lifestyle I adopt on a backpacking trip, it is fun because it challenges me and it shakes things up. I have to adapt and learn things about myself and the world in doing so. When I finish the backpacking trip, I don’t swear off refrigerated food or bathing, but I certainly have a greater understanding of the role those comforts have in my life and what life I might make without them. In a way, I now feel free of my dependence on the internet. I feel free to become dependent upon in once again but with the knowledge that I can solve problems and function as a human without it, too.