An Unexpected Gift – Part II

We swore in only seven weeks ago. I’ve been on the island for three months. I have been advised to adjust my expectations because things move at a much slower pace here. Intellectually, I understand. Emotionally I’m thinking, ”What the heck!” Working in the United States is different. Given a new job, the worker is expected to hit the ground running; make a few quick hits to show progress, set measurable goals and create a path to follow to ensure success. And, if you don’t succeed, well . . .let’s just say failure is not an option.

It’s very different here. It’s not just understanding the village that will help me integrate, it’s also understanding me. I was brought up in an alcoholic home. I didn’t know it then. Denial was my friend. My father had the problem, although I suspect mom had the same problem later in life. I held the position in the family to over-achieve. This took the attention off my father. It was one thing among many that allowed us to live in denial. My position was defined and I accepted and adopted it throughout my entire life. Throughout my career, whenever I was given an assignment, I did it and then some. It was done on time and better than expected. When I went to college, everything was done on time and I tried to make it better than other student works. Extra credit – I’m all over it; even if I didn’t need to do it. I was disappointed when my English instructor said my grade was high enough that I didn’t need to take the final exam. I wanted a chance to prove to her that I could get the best final exam grade as well!

Here I am in the Peace Corps feeling that I need to make an immediate and profound impact. Recently, I began thinking, “what am I doing here?” I need more to do. I always do more. This is crazy. I came to make an impact and I only have two years. Why can’t people see we have to move fast? Then my son, Jay, called. Several years ago he completed two years with Peace Corps in Honduras. In my quest for self-awareness my son Jay has helped me with clarity. I have always been an over-achiever and now, at the age of 59, I need to examine why.

My sons and I are not a family of phone talkers. On the contrary, we usually state our business and hang up. However, since I hooked up my Vonage account and have unlimited calls to the United States, my conversations with Jay have been lengthy; always more than an hour. During the end of one conversation Jay said, “I don’t want to hang up”. I knew what he was saying. We have a connection we didn’t have before – it’s the Peace Corps connection. Talking to my son now is different than before I left. Although each Peace Corps experience is individual, there is a bond among those that have served because of the depth of understanding we hold.

So in the process of a few conversations during the last week, he has been able to adjust my thinking. He can sense my frustration and here he is, mentoring me. At one point he said, “What have you done so far?” After we hung up I began listing my accomplishments.

Darnley, my point person and the person who requested Peace Corps for a volunteer, hoped that the foundation would have an office before my arrival. Not so. They are trying to secure the “Old Police Station” in the village which was abandoned for a new shiny building on the main highway next to the fire station. The problem is that they need to get approval from the Saint Lucian government. This takes time. In the meantime, I work from home. Many times I feel isolated, but I get out each day to meet people, say hello and talk about life in the village. On a recent walk I ran into Darnley. He said, “I understand people from the United States. You work hard and fast. I’m trying to put things in place for you”. That’s progress. He’s trying to adjust to my culture at the same time I’m trying to adjust to his.

I have read every publication in the Village Library about Saint Lucian history. I purchased and read four books written by local authors and have recently purchased more. I have taken this information and created a matrix timeline that hangs in my kitchen. I continue to make notes on it and create new entries. I do this so that I can better understand the generational differences in the Saint Lucian culture. These are the kinds of things that will help me integrate.

I am helping lead a Junior Achievement business at the secondary school. I created curriculum to teach three computer classes at the infant school. I taught Crystal, a little girl down the street, how to study using visual techniques. She was so excited when she got her test results that she came running up to my apartment to show me her 100% grade. I’m helping Neema, who attends teacher’s college, with a research project. I have moved her through developing research questions and creating a survey. I am now helping her with analyze, interpret, and summarize her project using descriptive statistical methodologies.

I created a one day workshop for the foundation to align the board of directors. This workshop is designed to be re-used each year after elections. I persuaded the board that they need to do a baseline community needs assessment. I created a PowerPoint presentation to simplify a legal document explaining the rules and regulations of the foundation. The board has expressed enthusiasm for the designed to re-use processes I’ve created for them. Much of what I’ve done for them is sustainable. Now I need to motivate them to use these tools.

Tomorrow I have an appointment at Monroe College to explore an opportunity to teach a Saturday class. I have done this in seven weeks, but I was feeling like I had done nothing. Jay was the one who added perspective to my life on the island. Journaling has created the “aha” moments.

It took someone who understood how I was feeling to help me through it. When he said, “Some days all I could do was walk onto my porch and to the end of my house. Then I would go back inside and read Dante’s Inferno.” That was how he handled the first days of his integration. In the end, he created agricultural systems that achieved sustainable results in Honduras. More than likely he touched many people that he isn’t even aware of.

I didn’t hit the ground running, rather, I hit the ground at a leisurely walk, with plenty of rest periods. While it feels like I’m walking in circles, I am actually walking in squiggly lines that will eventually meet and define progress. I need to practice patience. I can do more . . . but in the meantime, I need to remember to get up each morning, listen to the roosters crow, the birds sing, and the goats groan; go for a walk through the village, appreciate the fisherman blowing their horns, listen to the church bells sing and meet people to reflect on this experience. I need to remind myself that this is part of my job.

This is the reality that defines my job – it’s not a neat little paragraph job description that we all like. It’s defined and undefined, challenging and frustrating, and designed to transform my own growth as well as helping others make sustainable change that will be practiced long after I leave the island and no one remembers my name. So, if you will excuse me I’m going to put my walking shoes on now and do a little work.

p.s. Jay is the reason I named this piece “An Unexpected Gift”. The gift is a special link between us that we would not have discovered had it not been for the frustration I was feeling integrating into my village. Thank you Jay; I love you so much.