Thursday, August 19, 2010

On Development: Part V

Every year we get what's called a "site visit" from our programming staff. To be honest, it's pretty much exactly like what it sounds, in that the bosses come out to where we live to find out how we've been doing. The first year it's largely focused on our goals in site and how well we've integrated, and the second year it's much more concerned with whether or not we've been able to.

My site visit this year was very much like any other. I introduced the program manager to the people I've been working with, talked about the Peace Corps Small Project Assistance grant I was working on with the high school, told him about the English Olympiad the other volunteers and I in the region wanted to hold between our dar shebabs, and let him doublecheck that I was still using my carbon monoxide detector in the house. All ordinary. There was just one thing though that snagged: I answered his question of whether or not I thought I should be replaced with a "no."

Closing a site is always a tricky subject. A lot of sites get closed for bad reasons - there's no one willing to work with the volunteer, volunteers are getting sick, or volunteers are being harassed or worse - so it's no wonder that a recommendation for closure would be met with hesitation, but there's also one really good reason to close: sustainability. My boss didn't seem like he really agreed with me (though I did later get to see the preliminary list of sites for the coming stage, and my town wasn't included), but here, in our last "On Development" segment, I'd like to make the case for closing the file on Freedonia, and for why the world still needs the Peace Corps.

I feel like you should be pretty hip to "sustainability" by now, especially if you've been following along from home, but just in case you've been sleeping all this time, we'll go over the standard parable once more. Let's say that one day not too long from now you meet a guy who's got nothing to eat, and, being the good person that you are, you want to help him out. So, you give him a fish, which we'll assume for the moment you happen to have readily available. Well, it's pretty safe to say this guy's going to eat it, and you'll have fed him for the day (provided it's a big one, a swordfish, maybe?). Good for you. Of course, once he's gotten over his Omega-3 coma, he's bound to get hungry again. Perhaps you've got another, or someone else will come along with some trout, but fish don't grow on trees and eventually he's not going to get anything to eat. How do you feel now, Mr or Ms Philanthropy? Not so well, I'd imagine.

But don't give up yet! Where'd you get that fish? You didn't buy it, of course; no one buys fish anymore. You caught it, obviously, using your spear-fishing skills (or perhaps your bare hands?), so what's to stop you from getting another? A lot of things, most likely. You've probably got a job, a family, books to read, an upcoming Star Trek movie marathon. There's a lot on your plate, and you just don't have the time to go off and get this guy fish. I mean, what's his deal, anyway? Why doesn't he just learn how to do it himself? Bam! [Light bulb!] You could teach him - or, better yet - get him a self-help manual! That way he'll be able to go out on his own time and get the fish he needs, leaving you free to take care of your Civil War reenacting commitments. It's almost like you've fed this dude for his entire life, provided he's happy eating fish forever.

Congratulations, my friend, you've successfully completed sustainable development. Why? Because you're no longer a part of the picture. We didn't join the Peace Corps for the glory; we're doing it for the chicks. And you should be especially proud of yourself because you've done so much more than just take care of this guy's daily nutritional needs. By teaching him, you've also transferred - whether explicitly or by example - the knowledge of how to teach, and turned this ordinary fisherman into the epicenter of fishing education for the whole neighborhood. And, if you're a true rockstar, you've instilled in him the same go-getter attitude that got you where you are today, which will empower him to lead his community through the ensuing fish depletion crisis without any further intervention.

That's how I entered my town almost two years ago. Now I'm about to leave, and, like every other volunteer, I've got to ask myself just what kind of development I've been up to. Freedonia's had two volunteers preceding me as well as God-knows-how-many before them. More importantly, however, it has a handful of strong, active associations – and even more that are moderately involved. Over my two years I've found plenty of ways to keep myself busy. I've done English classes, played sports, and done other activities most days with the kids, and I've put on big shows like the Amateur Film Festival, the English Olympiad, and the Association Training Day. I worked on a grant with the high school to build an electronic library and participated in a few regional and national activities like AIDS education trainings and the Race An-Nasr. And there was always some kind of Peace Corps improvement activity going on; some committee for something or another.

It sounds like a lot – and it was – but I also had plenty of free time. That's important, of course, for all those all parts of being a Peace Corps volunteer like learning about culture, traveling around the country and experiencing its variety, and writing America about it all. And it's useful to make sure that your clothes get washed and do your shopping, but I certainly could have been doing a lot more with myself. I didn't, though. This isn't meant to be an apology; I didn't do more on purpose. We're supposed to put together art clubs, theatre troupes, and hip-hop dance teams so that the kids have something to do other than running around in the streets sniffing glue and being undeveloped, but we're also supposed to give those activities over to our local counterparts. In fact, we're not supposed to start them at all if we don't already have someone we're working with who'll be in charge once we've transferred all the skills we know that they need. My predecessors did a great job in that area, and Freedonia is full of activity experts. I worked at a theatre summer camp for four years and know enough about it to at least fake my way through running a small town club, but there are also at least four guys I can think of from my dar shebab who're just as skilled as I am. It's not just unnecessary for me to put together a club, it's wrong. I'm here to sure up the areas that need assistance; not get in the way.

Think about it. Sure, I could run a really banging theatre club, and I'd even go so far as to say it might even be better than what some of the other guys could put together, but what would I achieve in doing so? I'd steal all the fire from anyone else who might want to work in theatre, and, two years later, peace out. Then, if the town was lucky, they'd pick back up where they'd been before I stepped in, or, if they weren't lucky, anyone who might have been a theatre coach is now disillusioned or has moved on to something else. Either way, the result is either a zero or negative change. It was good for me, but not for my community. It's for the same reason that I'm not an English teacher: this country already has thousands of qualified English speakers without jobs for Peace Corps volunteers to come in and take away even more of them.

That's really the hardest part of life out here: to actively choose to stay home and watch television (or read a book or learn a dialect of Tashleheit), to stay out off in the wings. Not only is it boring, but it can make us doubt our value. Where we come from we measure success through achievement, and so it's easy to look at other volunteers who're running great clubs and bringing hundreds of kids into their dar shebabs and think that we're wasting our time and your money. That's not to say that there aren't some seriously lazy-ass volunteers who're on a two-year vacation, or that every Super Volunteer is crippling the development potential of their site. Every community is different and needs to be treated differently. It's our job to find what's missing and work to fill it. In the case of Freedonia, this was mostly in the areas of association management and fund-raising. In other places it can as basic as attributing community value to youth and the idea of activities directed at their betterment. Either way, the strategy is the same: use your expertise, leave the knowledge, and get out.

And that's where I am. I've done my part and shared my experience with the community, and, like it or not, it's time for me to go home. Could Freedonia benefit from another volunteer? I'm sure they'd think of things to do, and the Peace Corps is as much cultural exchange as it is development assistance, but I think both Morocco and the Peace Corps would be better served if they sent the new volunteers elsewhere. Freedonia's still growing, but it's got what it needs to take care of itself, and it's time for the foreigners to get out the way.