I recently read an article about fair trade coffee. Paramount Coffee is working to buy coffee from Rwanda without cheating them just because they live in a 3rd world country. Besides triumphing building positive business relationship across the world, it drove home a more unfortunate point. The article stated how donor money was used, in part, to buy goats, noting goat milk as a perk to this plan. In a few places goat milk is embraced, however most Rwandans think of goat milk as disgusting and unnatural. What appears to be an excellent plan to us can be viewed entirely differently when you flop over an ocean and a culture.
The larger point I'm getting at is some advice about working with international aid organizations or businesses. I truly believe you can't fully understand how the operation works (effectively, ineffectively, misguided, wasteful) until you see it in the foreign country. The full picture is always bigger than what can be said through a website, a picture, a testimonial, a promotional video. I am not saying don't donate your money or your time to an aid organization. But be skeptical. Do research. Ask questions. No organization is perfect but far more aren't even attempting to achieve that goal.
Tuesday, June 21, 2011
Homeward Bound
Soundtrack of this post: Magic Trick by She & Him
Hello everyone,
I'm back home. Enjoying the plushness of a couch as a write my first blog post in a long while. I'm not sure how to honestly tell you about my new life since now the people involved in my stories will likely be reading this (hi Mom!).
I shall try to frame this is as a tale of one transition, a tale for other PCVS coming home.
My transition went very well. Never had a freak out moment. Never had a panic attack about the largeness or the whiteness or any difference really. Fit right back into life. Here are the things that helped me. I had a place to go. Thank goodness my parents accepted me back with open arms so alas, I am not homeless. I was able to return to a familiar place. I've been able to revert a bit (in a completely healthy way) and feel comfortable. My extended family gave me some space when I got back. Visits were spaced out, days apart and plenty of time was given for just me and my immediate family. This is a big deal since my extended family is quite large. I have an event coming up that warrants me not being able to get a job immediately. Three weeks (and one week from now) from arriving my sister's wedding is occurring. Wedding prep (or my version of lounging around waiting for the wedding) is a great excuse. My stomach took about 4 days to adjust but my sleep schedule only took a couple - flying eastward back home is good for jet lag.
Triumphs of the last three weeks -- I have not regretted my decision for even one second, so it must have been a good one. I have finally been able to stop taking malaria medication and my body is enjoying a detox. I still know how to drive a car - it really just comes back from muscle memory.
So here is a list of random things that struck me upon returning -
While in the Kenyan airport, in the public restroom, the inside of my nose was burning. At first I thought it was paint thinner. After a minute I realized it was just bathroom cleaner with bleach but my sense of smell wasn't used to it.
In the parking structure at the Detroit airport, the smell of diesel exhaust smelled lovely.
White people are strange looking and I'm not used to so many overweight people.
I don't understand why people here don't just run around getting a million things done quickly purely because completing something quickly is actually an option here.
Social étiquette is a puzzle to me, even in my own culture, which is disconcerting.
Hello everyone,
I'm back home. Enjoying the plushness of a couch as a write my first blog post in a long while. I'm not sure how to honestly tell you about my new life since now the people involved in my stories will likely be reading this (hi Mom!).
I shall try to frame this is as a tale of one transition, a tale for other PCVS coming home.
My transition went very well. Never had a freak out moment. Never had a panic attack about the largeness or the whiteness or any difference really. Fit right back into life. Here are the things that helped me. I had a place to go. Thank goodness my parents accepted me back with open arms so alas, I am not homeless. I was able to return to a familiar place. I've been able to revert a bit (in a completely healthy way) and feel comfortable. My extended family gave me some space when I got back. Visits were spaced out, days apart and plenty of time was given for just me and my immediate family. This is a big deal since my extended family is quite large. I have an event coming up that warrants me not being able to get a job immediately. Three weeks (and one week from now) from arriving my sister's wedding is occurring. Wedding prep (or my version of lounging around waiting for the wedding) is a great excuse. My stomach took about 4 days to adjust but my sleep schedule only took a couple - flying eastward back home is good for jet lag.
Triumphs of the last three weeks -- I have not regretted my decision for even one second, so it must have been a good one. I have finally been able to stop taking malaria medication and my body is enjoying a detox. I still know how to drive a car - it really just comes back from muscle memory.
So here is a list of random things that struck me upon returning -
While in the Kenyan airport, in the public restroom, the inside of my nose was burning. At first I thought it was paint thinner. After a minute I realized it was just bathroom cleaner with bleach but my sense of smell wasn't used to it.
In the parking structure at the Detroit airport, the smell of diesel exhaust smelled lovely.
White people are strange looking and I'm not used to so many overweight people.
I don't understand why people here don't just run around getting a million things done quickly purely because completing something quickly is actually an option here.
Social étiquette is a puzzle to me, even in my own culture, which is disconcerting.
Wednesday, June 1, 2011
When Quitting Becomes the Bravest Move
I've been debating how much of my decision to come home for good is personal and how much is blog material. I do vaguely recall telling you all that I would be honest and forthright about this whole experience.
I felt that what was expected of me was unachievable, for me personally. My strengths didn't match the challenge. It may have been more than half laziness, but mixed into that was apathy. I stopped caring. I stopped trying. The last couple weeks I even stopped faking the trying. I was in a bad place and kept sinking into that bad place every couple months. I understand that my role was to build up the program for the next groups. Breaking a commitment doesn't build it up. But then again, neither does being an apathetic volunteer.
I've had the most exhilarating time of my life here, but also the most depressing moments. I have friends here, and those are the bittersweet moments. They have sustained me for this long. As many moments as I will miss in the next year of adventure as a PCV, I would have become more angry, negative and difficult to be around. I'd like to think I saved people from that.
I have nothing bad to say about Peace Corps. No organization is perfect and this Rwandan post is certainly aware of the bumps and constructively looking to fix them. I've been proud to say I served here. I wish I could have given more to the whole experience.
So I am blindly jumping into the abyss. I have no definite plans. That step after college of being unemployed and living with my parents has finally caught up with me. I suppose I will act the part of the cliche for awhile. But I know my time is precious. Life is short. Too short to not follow your gut. Failing gracefully is how I'd like to see it. As a wise cousin of mine once wrote - sometimes quitting is the bravest choice.
I'm sure my views on international development will shift, along with my thoughts on this entire experience, my role in all of it, Rwandan culture, the way I'm choosing to say goodbye, etc. But right now, I'm happy. I'm excited for the possibilities.
Because I'm addicted to blogging, this won't be my last post. I'll probably write up a little bit about adjusting back into American culture. I can't bear to sign off for good yet.
There will also, obviously, be a lapse in actual events and the posting of this news. Telling certain people before posting it to the internet world seemed considerate. Please don't feel snubbed if I didn't personally send the news to you. It was all part of my ploy to have a few days to lie low.
I felt that what was expected of me was unachievable, for me personally. My strengths didn't match the challenge. It may have been more than half laziness, but mixed into that was apathy. I stopped caring. I stopped trying. The last couple weeks I even stopped faking the trying. I was in a bad place and kept sinking into that bad place every couple months. I understand that my role was to build up the program for the next groups. Breaking a commitment doesn't build it up. But then again, neither does being an apathetic volunteer.
I've had the most exhilarating time of my life here, but also the most depressing moments. I have friends here, and those are the bittersweet moments. They have sustained me for this long. As many moments as I will miss in the next year of adventure as a PCV, I would have become more angry, negative and difficult to be around. I'd like to think I saved people from that.
I have nothing bad to say about Peace Corps. No organization is perfect and this Rwandan post is certainly aware of the bumps and constructively looking to fix them. I've been proud to say I served here. I wish I could have given more to the whole experience.
So I am blindly jumping into the abyss. I have no definite plans. That step after college of being unemployed and living with my parents has finally caught up with me. I suppose I will act the part of the cliche for awhile. But I know my time is precious. Life is short. Too short to not follow your gut. Failing gracefully is how I'd like to see it. As a wise cousin of mine once wrote - sometimes quitting is the bravest choice.
I'm sure my views on international development will shift, along with my thoughts on this entire experience, my role in all of it, Rwandan culture, the way I'm choosing to say goodbye, etc. But right now, I'm happy. I'm excited for the possibilities.
Because I'm addicted to blogging, this won't be my last post. I'll probably write up a little bit about adjusting back into American culture. I can't bear to sign off for good yet.
There will also, obviously, be a lapse in actual events and the posting of this news. Telling certain people before posting it to the internet world seemed considerate. Please don't feel snubbed if I didn't personally send the news to you. It was all part of my ploy to have a few days to lie low.
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