Do you see what I mean?
Being dropped off in a village by myself in the middle of Togo and told that I could work on or start whatever project I deemed necessary on my own timeline thrilled me. Having the freedom to do what I want, when I want, to the extent I want struck me as a perfect match for my particular characteristics, and I envisioned amazing results in store for the future. Until I was smacked awake with the reality that accomplishing Peace Corp's greatest goal - 'sustainable development' - has far less to do with me alone than I was anticipating. You see, the thing about mobilizing a community and bringing about behavior change is that you can run around and educate and sensibilize and organize projects, but at the end of the day, if you don't get a response from the people you're working with or if they aren't quite motivated enough, nothing will happen. It's the same idea as running a relay race; you can put your everything into your sprint and run your heart out, but if, when you pass the baton off to the next receiver, the person just stands there, then nothing evolves. The finish line can't be crossed because of your efforts alone.
I'll give you a very basic, small-scale example of this. I recently organized a community-wide celebration for World Women's Day, including a parade with people wearing the same 'uniform', dancing, speeches, skits, and a dinner at the chief's house. For the skits, I tried organizing two - one performed by the village women, and one performed by some middle school kids. Let me preface by saying that trying to organize Togolese to meet a number of times to practice something is no easy task. The students were not as punctual or reliable as they promised to be, but they were far better than the women, who, if showed up at all to the meetings, were NEVER earlier than 3 hours late. Still I put SO much time, money, and effort into gong-gonging (organizing a man to go around the entire village at 4 AM in the morning and yell the announcement for the meeting; that's how you notify people in these small villages with no media), planning meetings, helping the women come up with ideas for what to present and how to organize the day, preparing food, etc. etc. etc... Anyways, using the women's skit as a small example - in spite of practicing and everything, last minute (and I mean - I was on stage announcing their performance), the women decided they didn't want to do it. Now, as annoying as that was, it was nothing - it was just a skit. But it's the idea I'm talking about; I did everything I could to help them, but when it was left fully in their hands, they ended up deciding not to do anything, and that was that.
The concept of it all seems so obvious, doesn't it? One person can make a difference, but it involves more than just that one person. But it's hard to really come to terms with at first, because you enter into this tiny community in this remote village as a celebrity - literally. Villagers pay attention to you; they notice and watch you wherever you go, and if you start speaking, they'll approach you to hear what you have to say. And so it's easy to initially get caught up with the boastful thought that you can easily transform a community single-handedly.
I now laugh at myself for my initial, naive pride. But don't get me wrong - I'm not a total pessimist now, thinking, "what's the point in even trying?" No, not at all. Because sometimes someone does listen and does act accordingly. It can be rare, but when it happens, it's the most satisfying part of this job. I would say I have become much more realistic though. This is one of those situations in which I have to suck it up and admit that I just can't take full control of this project; I won't accomplish diddly-squat long term if I try to take on all the work myself. Because the point of this whole deal is not what was finished by the end of my service; it's what continues on after I'm gone.
So what does that mean for my current projects and approach to things? Well, most importantly, I'm learning to be a better team player. I've learned the importance of having homologues in everything I do, because if they see and learn from what I do, they (hopefully/ideally) will continue after I leave. For example, this past year, I alone taught my girl's club. Next year, I'm planning on turning it into a peer educator's club (to include boys, as I've come to realize how many are actually interested) and having a co-teacher, which will hopefully provide sustainability, but which I anticipate should also improve attendance, decrease tardiness, and ameliorate scheduling with other teachers. Peace Corps did stress the importance of having a homologue in everything from the beginning, but I was a tough, independent control-freak nut to crack. I'm just glad, now that I've eaten some humble pie and learned important lessons first-hand, I have a whole nother year to improve; 2 years of service makes a whole lot more sense to me now.
Smart thinking, Peace Corps. You anticipated having stubborn people like me.
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1 comment:
The people of your village aren't the only ones you're impacting with your experiences, Kristina. I never cease to be amazed and moved, both emotionally and to tears of laughter sometimes, at your stories and experiences. You're making an indelible mark on us all! Thank you!
Love always,
Momma
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