Lessons in Cross-Cultural Frustration
There have been a fair number of people early-terminating (“ET’ing”, in Peace Corps lingo) from our program lately. Of course a few of those people were very good friends of mine, so naturally myself and others have been a bit down lately over our compadres’ departures. The reasons why volunteers leave early are always quite complex and different for each person, and I certainly don’t judge anyone who decides to make an early exit. However, if there is one common motive I could single out amongst these multitudes of reasons, it would probably be frustrations with work-sites and local counterparts.
This is certainly not unique to Peace Corps Fiji; I think the majority of volunteers across the globe would identify their day-to-day work or projects as the most difficult aspect of their service. It’s simply quite difficult to accomplish things in a western manner when you’re working within a non-western culture. I’ve certainly had my fair share of days where I’ve hit nothing but roadblocks trying to complete some simple task, days which have left me feeling defeated and like I might be wasting my time here. That said, I’ve also had days were my counterparts have surprised me and left me feeling like there might be hope yet.
Take this red box here, for example. Shortly after I first started working at the health center, a volunteer from the older group came by to put up this "condom dispenser" box he built, having made a similar one for his own health center. He was going to nail it to the inside of the building, but I suggested it be left outside so that people could come grab condoms anonymously after the health center closes. I figured most people would prefer that over awkwardly asking the nurse for them, since most people in Fiji are still quite conservative about such matters. The dispenser-system has been quite successful ever since; every week I dump about a hundred condoms into the box, and by next week it’s almost always empty again.
Then one day a couple months ago, the family planning nurse came up to me and asked if we could build some more of these boxes for the other health centers in Ra province. I was quite surprised for two reasons: 1) it is pretty rare for one of my coworkers to actually approach me wishing to collaborate on something, and 2) I had spent over year gently nudging her to take over the role of restocking the condom box, but she never would. Not wanting to look a gift-horse in the mouth, I went ahead and said, “yes, let’s do it”. The hospital’s groundskeeper is currently helping us put the boxes together, and hopefully they’ll all be nailed up before I end my service.
I learned later that the nurse never wanted to refill the original box herself because, as a woman, she felt embarrassed doing that in public. This is more than understandable given the cultural context, and I probably should have been able to connect those dots on my own. However, this still doesn’t answer the larger question, the question many of my fellow volunteers and I are always wondering about: Why does it seem like our counterparts hardly ever want to work on any projects? Or even something small that's new or different? After all most of us joined the Peace Corps thinking that this was our primary task. At the same time you can't ignore your coworkers, since going out and doing a bunch of projects on your own would kind of defeat the purpose of Peace Corps’ mission. So what’s a volunteer to make of this?
To get at the heart of why this presumed apathy occurs with our local counterparts, a deeper understanding of Fijian culture is required. More specifically, you would need to both learn about how much the culture here discourages individuals from standing out, and then understand the reasons behind that. Given how strongly hierarchal and communalistic Fiji’s precolonial culture used to be, it’s not hard to imagine how the impulse to conform would still persist into modern day society. Consequently, whether it’s in a village or in a health center, you’ll be hard-pressed to find many risk-takers or go-getters working above and beyond what’s expected of them. This would require a degree of conspicuousness that people are just not very comfortable with here.
It took me quite a long time to realize this. Before that point, I often found myself sort of doing my own thing just to keep busy (and sane). I felt bad doing so, but over the long-term there ended up being some merit to this strategy. To use an analogy, working with a local counterpart is sort of like living with a cat. If you try too hard you’ll scare them off, so the best bet is to do your own thing, slowly build a relationship with them, and then let them come to you on their own terms. It takes awhile to fully realize how different your counterparts' beliefs and values might be from yours. And while learning to appreciate this reality doesn’t necessarily guarantee any more success work-wise, it might make you a little less frustrated all the time.
This is certainly not unique to Peace Corps Fiji; I think the majority of volunteers across the globe would identify their day-to-day work or projects as the most difficult aspect of their service. It’s simply quite difficult to accomplish things in a western manner when you’re working within a non-western culture. I’ve certainly had my fair share of days where I’ve hit nothing but roadblocks trying to complete some simple task, days which have left me feeling defeated and like I might be wasting my time here. That said, I’ve also had days were my counterparts have surprised me and left me feeling like there might be hope yet.
Take this red box here, for example. Shortly after I first started working at the health center, a volunteer from the older group came by to put up this "condom dispenser" box he built, having made a similar one for his own health center. He was going to nail it to the inside of the building, but I suggested it be left outside so that people could come grab condoms anonymously after the health center closes. I figured most people would prefer that over awkwardly asking the nurse for them, since most people in Fiji are still quite conservative about such matters. The dispenser-system has been quite successful ever since; every week I dump about a hundred condoms into the box, and by next week it’s almost always empty again.
Then one day a couple months ago, the family planning nurse came up to me and asked if we could build some more of these boxes for the other health centers in Ra province. I was quite surprised for two reasons: 1) it is pretty rare for one of my coworkers to actually approach me wishing to collaborate on something, and 2) I had spent over year gently nudging her to take over the role of restocking the condom box, but she never would. Not wanting to look a gift-horse in the mouth, I went ahead and said, “yes, let’s do it”. The hospital’s groundskeeper is currently helping us put the boxes together, and hopefully they’ll all be nailed up before I end my service.
I learned later that the nurse never wanted to refill the original box herself because, as a woman, she felt embarrassed doing that in public. This is more than understandable given the cultural context, and I probably should have been able to connect those dots on my own. However, this still doesn’t answer the larger question, the question many of my fellow volunteers and I are always wondering about: Why does it seem like our counterparts hardly ever want to work on any projects? Or even something small that's new or different? After all most of us joined the Peace Corps thinking that this was our primary task. At the same time you can't ignore your coworkers, since going out and doing a bunch of projects on your own would kind of defeat the purpose of Peace Corps’ mission. So what’s a volunteer to make of this?
To get at the heart of why this presumed apathy occurs with our local counterparts, a deeper understanding of Fijian culture is required. More specifically, you would need to both learn about how much the culture here discourages individuals from standing out, and then understand the reasons behind that. Given how strongly hierarchal and communalistic Fiji’s precolonial culture used to be, it’s not hard to imagine how the impulse to conform would still persist into modern day society. Consequently, whether it’s in a village or in a health center, you’ll be hard-pressed to find many risk-takers or go-getters working above and beyond what’s expected of them. This would require a degree of conspicuousness that people are just not very comfortable with here.
It took me quite a long time to realize this. Before that point, I often found myself sort of doing my own thing just to keep busy (and sane). I felt bad doing so, but over the long-term there ended up being some merit to this strategy. To use an analogy, working with a local counterpart is sort of like living with a cat. If you try too hard you’ll scare them off, so the best bet is to do your own thing, slowly build a relationship with them, and then let them come to you on their own terms. It takes awhile to fully realize how different your counterparts' beliefs and values might be from yours. And while learning to appreciate this reality doesn’t necessarily guarantee any more success work-wise, it might make you a little less frustrated all the time.
I agree that everyone has their reasons for taking an Early Termination and that those may be very valid reasons (hostile counterparts, poor placement, etc.), but I also think over the past 4 years that Michelle and I have been in Fiji there have been those who have simply "given up" - for lack of a better description - and gone home without giving a full commitment to themselves or their community/placement. I think in some cases it has been too easy for some to simply "throw up their hands" in frustration and board the next plane home, but it doesn't have to be that way. To borrow from your analogy, you can keep chasing cats to your frustration or you can set saucers of milk out and wait patiently while you engage in anything ranging from self-improvement (online college courses, self help books, learning how to fish/hunt/weave, etc.) to showing movies on a laptop that expose the Fijians watching to different cultures and places. Just being present in a village or community and the example that you provide (assuming it is positive) can have an impact in time. In some cases, you may have an impact on only one person the whole time you are in Fiji, but that person may go on to do something great for the country! Think of all the stories from Peace Corps around the world where national leaders can point back to a Peace Corps volunteer that had an impact on their lives - one volunteer impacts one person and that person has an impact on thousands!
Peace Corps is no doubt challenging. We are separated from our family and friends in a very unfamiliar culture. It is even more challenging when our Western work ethic clashes with "Fiji Time". However, a friend once gave me one of the best pieces of advice I've ever received regarding achievement. He said, "If you genuinely do everything you can, even if you consider it a complete failure at the time, you can never look back in regret." I can't help but think that some of the ET's will look back in time and think that they could have done something different or better or more.
Cheers,
Bubba