Post-Peace Corps Adjustment

I plugged my IPod into the USP Port, turned up the music and allowed my thoughts to drift as I drove my car up the mountain.  I thought about the cabin my parents had in Big Bear when I was young.  Every weekend was spent there and I had a circle of friends and social activities on the mountain as well as at our home in Thousand Oaks.  There were lots of dates, dances, hikes and snow fights.  There are plenty of good childhood memories of the time we spent as a family at that cabin.

The scent of pine and the sounds of singing Blue Jay's bring me back to a time of innocence.  It was as a result of those memories that I purchased a small house on the mountain several years ago.  I had been working in a corporate job and the peace the mountains brought to my life was a welcome relaxation from the stress and long hours.

I sat on the deck enjoying the view of the city, a view I didn't know existed until 2007.  So many homes were lost in the fire that year.  Every home beneath mine and several homes located on my own street were burned to the ground.  It was after that fire that I discovered the small benefit to the terrible destruction on the mountain that year. I feel fortunate that my little get-away house was spared.

I made a cup of hot tea, put on some music and regained my place on the wood deck outside my living room. The air was crisp and I wrapped a fleece blanket around my arms.  It was quiet as I thought about my life before Peace Corps and contemplated new options as I move forward.

I will teach a college course beginning in January.  I can volunteer, possibly teach a Junior Achievement class.  I plan to visit friends, one of which I haven't seen in twenty years.  In October, I may go to Boston or possibly meet my sister in Washington DC.  Whatever turn my life takes, this is the first time since I was in my late twenties that I have five months without structured obligations and commitments. I find it more difficult to not work than to work.  I have no idea how to do life without a calendar. God help me and those around me.

My thoughts turned to my granddaughter.

Tap, tap, tap. She wears her pink leggings underneath her pink tap dancing outfit. Ava’s long brown hair hair flows past her waist and she is wearing a beautiful pink flower pinning her hair out of her eyes. Of course, pink is her favorite color and anything princess is her favorite thing.

There is a tray of cookies at the preschool reception desk. Theresa and I each help ourselves to one. My finger is firmly attached to Ava's little hand as we make our way to her classroom to find that there is no tap this morning. Theresa quickly undresses her.  In record time she is transformed from a tap dancing princess and into her chicken outfit complete with the construction paper hat she made earlier in the week. Today is Circus Day at the pre-school and Ava’s class will be doing the chicken dance.

I look around the room at the tubs full of toys and the stack of cots, each with a child’s name on it. Each child has a cubby and a box with their name on it for their personal things and an extra set of clothes. There is a bathroom where everything is scaled for a four year old. The playground has lots of colorful equipment and there are tiles with hand prints and children’s names on the outside walls. It is a very happy place.

I watch each classroom of children enter the playground in a parade procession; there are concessionaires carrying popcorn, elephants, lions, dogs and of course, Ava’s class of chickens. 

Each classroom performs to music and then jugglers perform, one on a unicycle. Finally, there is a faire with games, face painting, snacks, prizes and fun.

Last month the school hired a mobile aquarium to come to the school so the children could touch and learn about sea life. They have programs during the holiday season and other special activities various times during the year. There is so much abundance at the school that it gave me pause to reflect on the after school program in Saint Lucia. It’s not that either program is better than the other, or that there is judgment about abundance or the lack there of. It’s just that the contrast is . . . well, so noticeable.

The next week, Ava once again put her tap shoes and her tutu on and was ready for her lesson.  She and several other girls tapped their shoes on wooden boards and kept time to music.

A couple days later, Brendan says, "Do you want to go to Disneyland? We have a Season Pass."

There are other things that fill her time; pool parties, a trip to the lake, birthday parties and quiet nights with her mom, dad and uncles who help her with puzzles and read countless books with her.

I think about the children of MoPo Village often.  Children in the United States may have more resources and access to diverse activities.  But does this make them happier in their lifetime?  Since my return, I have found myself worrying about a screen that needs to be replaced, paying for my retirement years and wondering if I should move to a better neighborhood.  I don't remember worrying about trivial stuff like this during the last two years.

We were warned during our Close of Service Conference that our stories would only hold the attention of our friends and family for a very brief few minutes.  We were warned that we might see things differently.  No one wants to spend hours traveling down someone else's memory lane, including me.  It does leave me wondering how I might fit in . . . especially when I face an empty calendar for the next five months.

Before I left, I was concerned that I was living my life within a small twenty square mile radius and thus, I was wasting valuable time in my life.  So for two years, I lived in another and very different twenty square mile radius.  I have seen children who are hungry.  I've also seen children unable to attend school because they have no uniforms or shoes.  I have seen children become magnets to books because they are scarce on the island. I have seen children respond to new ideas and I've seen their behavior change.  I have seen children who were believed to be unteachable, learn to read.  I have seen children entertain themselves with little resources and handmade toys. I have learned how to create teaching resources and activities without a budget.  I have taught adults teaming and negotiating concepts and seen the 'aha' come alive.  The past two years has been my big 'aha' moment.

I have lived a simple life - yes, for two years I used public transportation.  I lived in a village where people brought me fruits or roasted corn or even a tea bag as a gift.  I went to work in the same two or three outfits every single week.   No one said anything about it as they did the same.  I lived in an apartment with buckets in the showers and kitchen because the pipes are dry due to a drought. I took countless cold showers.  I lived in a village where people took care of one another, although as with any small community they also fought together.

After a few days of relaxation, I packed up my things and drove my car down the mountain and back to the bustling city of Los Angeles.  I thought about all I have learned in the past two years...certainly more than I could ever possibly hope to give to the people in my village, my Saint Lucia friends and the children of MoPo.

It is with excitement and anticipation, some trepidation and reluctance, and some guilt over my culture's glutenous behavior that I reenter my old life.  But I am entering this life with a new attitude and understanding about another small piece of the world.  Now, I need to get to the business of figuring out how to fill my empty calendar, but first I think I will take a nap.

Shadows

“I can’t watch those slave movies. It hurts too much.” She goes on to say that slavery is used as an excuse and it impedes today’s progress. Her pain is visibly set on her sleeve, yet she knows that progress begins when she moves forward.

Violence is rooted in cultural norms. One woman alleges “men twist scripture to their advantage”. Heads are nodding around the room.

Another woman says, “The priest's solution is to pray about it”. Her church completes her identify. The other half of her identity is the man who is beating her.

And so it goes when women congregate in a safe environment to talk about the women’s role in Saint Lucian society. The invisible veils that cover their lives come off and women get real. Some talk about how they teach their daughters to submit to the same cultural norms they criticize today.

Like Plato’s Allegory of the Cave, it takes a few women to awaken to the shadows of their past that do not represent truth. A woman looks over at me and says, “it’s hard to be a woman”.

Bank on Learning

I remember when my oldest son was just approaching his teenage years. He came into the house one evening, excited and loud, declaring his love for the perfect food. He made a declaration of truth, “they fill you up, they are cheap and they taste good!” I’m glad he grew out of that because, although he made valid points in his argument, donuts aren’t exactly nutritious.

The growing stash of Pringles Cans in various sizes under my sink provides constant pangs of guilt. I already filled the mostly empty cupboard once. I gathered them up and took them to the after-school program. I was confident they would find a myriad of uses for the wonderful cast-away and ever-growing collection of cylindrical containers.

But alas, my collection grows. The only other thing occupying space within this cupboard is an extension cord which I must use when I need electricity to my washing machine. It’s annoying when I open the door to remove the cord. The containers spill over onto the floor and throughout the shelf. I must bend down and neatly arrange them, pushing them backward and hoping that when I return the cord to its rightful shelf space, the cans will not behave in the same manner and cause me more grief. What’s a Pringle Loving Girl to do? Surely, I shouldn’t give up my love of these crunchy salty delights! The Pringles cans are just one part of the story so let us move forward.

I’m teaching a Grade One Junior Achievement class. This is my first effort teaching this grade. I was excited when the teacher asked me if I would do it…that is until I looked through the kit. I previously taught Grade Three and found it a challenge because this American company made no cultural considerations in the curriculum. They used donuts for an exercise when many of my children had never eaten a donut. They gave me a cassette to play music when I had nothing to play it with. It became quickly apparent that Grade One is no different.

But first, let me be fair. These problems have been brought to the attention of Junior Achievement Worldwide and they have pledged to improve the worldwide portion of the program. It is a great program. I was in Junior Achievement in high school so many years ago and learned a great deal from it. But, like the Pringles Cans, this is just one point in the story and so again, let us move forward.

The focus of this course is to learn about acquisition. In other words, how to trade, barter and buy the things we need and want and how to save money to obtain things beyond our immediate reach. The kit contains stickers of coins and posters with blown up pictures of money. So, what’s the problem? Saint Lucia doesn’t use American Dollars; they use Eastern Caribbean Dollars. So once again, I must get creative.

When my niece taught the class she pasted American change side by side with Eastern Caribbean change so that the children could see the comparison. This was a good exercise because tourism is a growing industry in Saint Lucia. It is likely that they may see American dollars at some point in their life.

The instructions for this class were to read a story about a little girl who earns and saves money to buy a present for her friend. Then the children are given a sheet with four choices of presents they would like to buy. They are to choose one and put American coin stickers beside the item to pay for it. I quickly see this will make absolutely no sense to these little six year old children.

So, you may be asking at this point: What do Pringles and Junior Achievement have in common? Is she totally isolated in her village on a remote island and she just babbles on about nothing?

I looked at the material and made an executive decision to chuck it. After all, I’m the executive in this Junior Achievement class. And then it came to me . . . the vision. Suddenly 23 Pringles Cans would have a new home and my power cord could once again claim the space in my cupboard that it had enjoyed for so long before I discovered this new tasty food.

Yup, time to make 23 banks…and better yet, I’d just found a use for all those coins that I don’t use (reference my post, “Money”, March 2009). I knew I was in for the fight of my life and had to prepare like a prize fighter. I was determined to win the battle to deliver an effective class. Alright, I admit there may be a possibility that I'm being a little dramatic here.

I measured and cut paper. I glued smaller pieces of colored paper onto the white paper. The children will decorate the paper before taping their artwork to the Pringles Cans. I separated all the coins I’ve collected in the last year and divided them into the cans. I even went to the local credit union to get some quarters, adding two to each can. I made my own can. Look at this talent! Am I amazing or what?

The next day, I was armed with the Junior Achievement storybook and twenty three cans, each filled with coins. I walked down my stairs and through my village streets, the cans loudly clinking, the loud sounds ringing in my ears and drawing the attention of each passerby. I boarded the bus and finally made my way to the MoPo.

I showed the children my bank and asked, “would you like to make one of these today?” Of course they all declared with excitement, “Yes, Miss”. I pulled out several coins and put them on a nearby desk next to my can.

The story for this week is about a little girl who works for money which she saves to buy a birthday present for her friend. I read the story to the children. Each time the little girl in the story earned money, I would take coins from the pile and toss them into the can. They made a loud noise, capturing the children’s attention.

After reading them the story I gave each child a Pringles Can complete with about a dollar in change. I asked them to take the money and find all the one cent coins, two cent coins, five cent coins and so on. I asked them to identify each coin.

I told them because they had worked so hard in the Junior Achievement class, they would be able to keep the coins. One little boy whispered in my ear, “I have money!” I responded, “yes, you do”.

The teacher looked my way while the children were coloring and decorating the paper that would cover each can. She said, “where did you get all these cans”. I responded, “easy, I eat a lot of Pringles”. Although I’m sure there was some dietary judgment on her part, she did flash a friendly smile.

I passed by the desk of a little girl, Jilli, who slipped me a homemade card. After the class, I looked at what she had given me. Two princesses with crowns, the printed words “Junior Achievement” and inside the card read, “I love you Miss”.

The teacher kept all the things they had made during Junior Achievement. They would bring them home during the last week of school. On the final day I was there, the teacher pointed to their banks and told me the children were bringing in change they collect and are rapidly filling up their banks.

TRADING ONE TROPICAL PARADISE FOR ANOTHER

Costa Rica is a beautiful developing country. One week is hardly enough time to become acquainted with this country and people, but it is an appetizer. So, I took a much needed vacation and below are a few stories of my week which started with an overnight in Miami.

MIAMI BEACH

Elaine and I walked through Miami Airport talking about memories of the last time we were here together. It was August 25, 2008, the day we left as trainees for our new country of Saint Lucia. “Remember all the luggage? Why did we bring so much stuff? I was so nervous. Oh, that’s where I had a pastry and coffee while we waited for the plane.”

We sat on Nikki’s patio eating blueberries and raspberries which tasted so good. Nikki, Elaine’s daughter, and her friend Mary laughed at us as we talked about the small treat. These are fruits not readily available in Saint Lucia. Later we walked along South beach and sat in an outdoor café eating crepes and drinking mimosas. Everything tasted so good. We flagged a taxi to rush over to our six o’clock hair appointment. Oh, I feel human again!

After a quick shopping trip we went to Bill’s house, a high rise apartment with an incredible view of the city. A mannequin dressed as a bandit with a toy gun greeted us in the entry way and another mannequin dressed as a nurse holding toilet paper invaded the bathroom privacy. Barbie’s hanging from the ceiling fan and swinging in the breeze were illuminated by the colored light wheel that bounced off the aluminum Christmas tree. To say the least, it was interesting décor. We talked and laughed with Bill and his three sisters while we ate the pear tart they had spent an entire afternoon making.

IS IT PROGRESS OR DESTRUCTION?

The sign reads, “Costa Rica is not for Sale”. We hired a driver to navigate the three hours of road, mostly paved but then again some is not. A few minutes before we arrived at our hotel, we stopped to look at the ocean view. That is when we spotted the sign painted on the bus stop’s concrete wall. The colorfully painted words had the same meaning as the comments I hear from Saint Lucians about their country.

People are attracted to Costa Rica, as they are Saint Lucia, because of the beauty of the land and also because it is a less expensive means to retire or own a vacation home. When riding on the long two land highway there is billboard after billboard advertising luxury housing in Costa Rica.

A few miles and villages away from my village in Saint Lucia is an abandoned hotel development thanks to the Westin. The beautiful points overlooking the sea were leveled and a half finished and now a decaying hotel sits on this site. In Costa Rica there are long drive-ways leading to gates with guards that lead to homes with beautiful ocean views. It’s probably safe to say not many, if any Costa Rican’s live behind the gates.

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“A new company is here to build roads. They are taking rocks and sand from our river.” It was toward the end of our trip and we were on our way to raft on the river. I asked the river guide how he feels about the company building roads. “Well, I don’t like it, but there’s not much we can do about it. They are taking our river from us.”

Although Costa Rica is far ahead in its conservation and eco-tourism and considered a leader by many, still I wonder where the holler monkeys, lizards, snakes, birds, sloths, and frogs are that occupied the beautiful views that were once home. Their home now belong to wealthy foreigners who come here to retire behind the guarded gates.

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Many people in Saint Lucia are disappointed with the exploitation and destruction of the beauty that belongs to them. The message at the small Costa Rica Bus Stop appears to compliment the sentiments of many in Saint Lucia.

THE SHOPPING

Why would anyone come to Costa Rica and buy a colorfully painted wooden chicken? This was just one of the unanswered questions I had as I browsed the stores.

Why would they name a store that sells bicycles and washing machines “El Gallo, Mas Gallo”? This is one of those questions that will likely be a mystery for my entire life.

When I die my first two questions might be “Who shot JFK and why did they name an appliance store El Gallo, Mas Gallo?” And, really . . . why do they carry bicycles and washing machines?

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“Que Café es strong”. The woman has a confused look. We are on our own to choose between many brands of coffee. Elaine says, “I like this packaging”. She picks a couple of pounds of Costa Rican coffee and I follow suit choosing three packages of coffee based on which packaging is the prettiest. Coffee and chocolate. I think I might have enough to get me through a couple of months.

THE PEOPLE

The tourist industry is well developed and organized in Costa Rica. Hotel workers, taxi drivers, tour guides and shop owners are all eager to share their country and make tourists feel welcome. Humor is frequent and teasing tourists is a national pastime.

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After a brief 10 minute walk going up many steps we were finally at the top. Strapped into a harness with hooks around our waist and helmets on our heads we reached the first platform.

Linda approached the first line, jumped up and George hooked the zip line that would carry her across to the next platform. Hanging by one hook and clutching the tethered rope while hoping for the best, she shifted her feet from the safety of the platform to the thrill of suspension.

Just as she began her ride across the rainforest George calls out “wait!” Humor bordered between kind of funny and downright funny. Actually, I likely thought that was more funny than Linda did.

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There were many huge iguanas, frogs, and lizards on the grounds of our hotel. One night I saw this small white and fluorescent colored lizard. I’d never seen anything like it before. Elaine and I were captivated by this creature. We went to get the manager and brought him to see this beautiful creature. He says, “it must be a chameleon.” Then another worker walked over to it, picked it up and put it back on the night desk next to the other plastic toys.

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”Look Elaine, they use the same hand signal we do!” A family was standing by the roadside in humid heat. They put their hand high in the air and brought it down, elbows straight. The only difference between flagging a bus in Costa Rica and flagging a bus in Saint Lucia is that our bus holds 14 passengers and their bus likely holds 114 passengers. As a Peace Corps Volunteer, the bus is an interesting thing to see.

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“Mi familia!” he said. “Do you mind if we take my family home? It’s only five minutes.” We were all tired, but it didn’t matter. We had been rafting on the river most of the day and our guides made the trip a lot of fun.

No one spoke until the door opened and Miguel’s sister, mother and two children climbed into the van. “They are my nieces; my sister’s children.” The youngest crawled onto the seat next to Miguel. He gently put his arm around her and whispered in her ear and then kissed her forehead. The love he has for his family poured through the van.

We stopped and Miguel pointed up a dirt road, “this is our home”. He explained that it was at the top of the hill with a view of the river at one side and the ocean on the other. This is a poor family. Miguel is highly regarded in the village because he has a good job working with tourists and has learned to speak English.

Miguel has long curly hair, dimples and enough presence and charisma to light up a stadium. Witty and energetic and animated, the first time we saw him he popped in the van, laughed and said, “Does my hair look ok? They call me the crazy one.”

SMALL VILLAGES

The sign reads, “Keep going. You are not lost.” We had been on dirt roads for more than an hour. When row after row of African Palm Farms were not seen, we would see row after row of Teak Tree Farms. We passed two small villages just before arriving. El Silencio and another village name I cannot remember.

The villages only have about five hundred people in them. They operate as a coop village. Most don’t have cars, but have oxen and carts. They work on the Teak and African Palm Farms. Things have changed over the last few years. The government understands the value of the land and the devastation cutting down a rain forest can bring. They pay people to not use the land for anything other than growing enough food for survival.

We pass the secondary school where about 25 students study. There is an outdoor café and bar which resembles so many I see here in Saint Lucia.

We stopped at a home with a well manicured lawn and orchids hanging in a shady area. A man comes out and waves to the driver. “Would you all like to stop for a cold drink?” It’s amazing how friendly people are.
After a considerably long ride on a bumpy dirt road where the signs kept saying we were really not lost, we came across the last sign, “bad road ends here”. We drove up the long road and the scenery looked like we had entered a piece of Africa.

The owners, it turns out, are from South Africa and built Rafiki Lodge with a vision of conservation, sustainability, eco-tourism and economic community growth. The lodge employs twenty-one people and sits against 800 acres of national land preserve.

People in the villages look up to the workers who are paid above average wages. One is a recent college graduate.

We are taken on a tour of the land, shown the incredible “Tent” accommodations and they explain the vision for the property.

They want to develop eco-tourism to help the nearby villages, continue the hotel business to sustain eco-tourism to help local villages, to be a sustainable lodge and also to raise and reintroduce the Tapir, an endangered animal, into the rain forest.

We are here today to enjoy a somewhat leisurely raft trip down the river. We stopped at a local waterfall and a picnic lunch. In between stops we jumped out of the raft and floated in the calm pools of water.

We wound up the day enjoying a peaceful view while rocking our chairs and drinking cool refreshments.

FARMING

They make the equivalent of $20 a day, but only if they produce a bounty of the small almond shaped pods. They carry large sticks with knives attached to them to cut down a bunch of palm nuts. Each bunch weighs upwards of ninety to one hundred pounds.

The workers hoist them into large containers and then set them on a cart powered by large oxen. This back-breaking work is done in the tropics. It is hot and humid.

It takes three to five years for a tree to produce and after twenty years, give or take a few, the palms are injected with diesel fuel to kill them. New palms replace old ones. Palm oil is exported and exports ring up a big economy for Costa Rica.

Do you ever think to yourself, “I wonder where henna die comes from?” I didn’t think so, but if you did, look no further for I have the answer.

On the way to zip, repel and swing through the forrest, Meffey, our driver stopped and pointed to one of the many teak trees on the farm. Teak Trees have very large oval shaped leaves.

Meffey picked a leaf and broke off a small piece. He squeezed it into a ball and a bright red liquid poured out of the veins and oozed onto his hand while he explained the value of this brilliant color. Teak farms are plentiful in Costa Rica, not just for the wood, but also for the Henna they export.

WILDLIFE AND NATURE

There were sloths, monkeys, bats, stickbirds and flowers. I can't remember the technical names of most of the things I saw.

I usually take meticulous notes so I can remember details. This time I was there for pure enjoyment. No notes and little technical memory.

We hired Michael to be our guide at Manuel Antonio National Park. Michael carried a large telescope that allowed us to see details of birds and frogs and other assorted animals and creatures. Costa Rica has daily life that includes spotting black squirrels and iguanas.

The land is filled with colorful birds with sounds that I’ve only heard in tropical settings. Frogs and lizards abound. Butterflies are ever-present companions on the trails.

It seemed like we were always looking up. Oh, my poor neck! But the massage therapist we met later in the week took care of that problem.

“Look over there. Ten o’clock! Do you see the Booby Birds?” They always lead us to them” said Jason. On this day we were on a catamaran.

The catamaran shifted into high speed and other boats were chasing too. The race was on. The motor went silent and all that could be heard was “ooh, ah”.

It’s always a special treat to watch wild dolphins. There are no pictures here as I spent the day in freedom.

Earlier in the day we boarded the boat for an afternoon of dolphin watching and snorkeling. On the way back we were served dinner as we watched the sunset. Life is good.

FRIENDSHIP

I thought this trip was going to be about taking a break from work, which it was. I thought this trip would be about relaxation, seeing wildlife and countryside beauty and it was. I thought this trip would be about water holes, rivers and oceans and pools and it was. I thought this trip was going to be about monkeys and lizards and sloths and iguana’s and it was. It was also about de-compartmentalizing friendships and bringing diversity to our experience. We were four, oh-so-different people and it was fabulous to hang out with them for the week! So here we are: Carol, Linda, me and Elaine.

IT'S TIME TO LEAVE

After a little shopping and a wonderful last Costa Rican dinner we headed across the street to watch the sunset. Local families were waiting on the rocks as the sun danced into the Pacific waters and peaked out from the clouds. Families rode by on fishing boats and everyone was waiting for the predictable nightly show.

As we walked back into the town to catch a ride, we noticed no one had power. Upon returning to our hotel we discovered that we didn’t have electricity or water. Ah, the Peace Corps life. Elaine and I looked at each other and said, “We know how to deal with this!”

This is the last meal until I walk down the plank and plunge into a pool of peanut butter.” Elaine and I are sitting at Yoko’s Restaurant in Miami Beach and talking about the last ten days with Nikki and Mary. We had an amazing meal and possibly one of the most decadent desserts I’ve eaten, a warm tempura fried cheesecake with whipped cream and raspberry sauce – be still my heart…literally! We walked outside and Nikki took our picture under the Yoko’s sign.

As we left the restaurant, we reminisced about our friend Yoko, a Japanese Volunteer. Nikki took our picture under the sign and Elaine sent it to her to let her know she isn’t forgotten and we miss her.

It is my last flight into Saint Lucia. It is a beautiful island and I want to remember the incredible vision from the plane. So, as a typical tourist, I snapped a few shots for my memory bank.