I am quite
proud of my two years of national service as a Peace Corps Volunteer in Brazil.
But since that time I haven’t had much contact with the organization or my
fellow volunteers. We all lost track of each other shortly after finishing our
assignments. Possibly, if the internet had been around back in the late 70’s,
more of us would have stayed in touch. I know there are Returned Peace Corps
groups all over the US, but that never interested me. I may have even worked in
countries where Volunteers had assignments, but not once did I ever think about
checking to find out.
For some
reason, before I left on this trip, I thought I might see what the PC had going
down in the Dominican Republic. I wasn’t thinking about that at all when, during
my first week in Santo Domingo, I walked into a small museum that I passed on a
small street, intrigued by the sign: 100th
Anniversary of the Loss of the USS
Memphis.
While I was looking
at the pictures and reading the narrative about the ship that was sunk by waves
from a hurricane right there in Santo Domingo, I noticed a man, with a load of
fancy camera equipment, documenting the exhibition. We got to talking and he
told me that he was the one who had set it up through the US State Department.
It was also the final day before they took everything down.
I’m not sure
how it came up, but I mentioned my PC time in Brazil. He replied that he had
been PC Honduras, two years before me. And even more astonishingly, he told me
that one of his best friends was in PC Brazil when I had been there. When I got
back to the hotel, I looked up his friend’s name and sure enough, he was in the
group that arrived six months after me. And although I knew lots of people from
that training group, I can’t say I really remember him. We probably did meet
one crazy Carnaval week up in Salvador, but a whole lot of cachaça and rum may
have slightly blurred my memory of those four days.
What are the
odds that I would just happen to be at a small exhibition far from home, on its
last day, at just the right hour, to run into a former PCV who was best friends
with another PCV who served in Brazil at the same time as I did? Clearly it was
a sign that I should drop by the Peace Corps office in Santo Domingo, just to
see how things were these days.
A few days
later, the taxi dropped me off at the PC office and I walked up expecting to
simply go in and chat with anyone who was around. I got no further than the
glass enclosed guard post with three State Department armed guards sitting
inside. I leaned back, looked around, and tried to see if maybe I was not where
I thought I should be. The guards were not making any effort to let me through.
I quickly
realized that they were local hires so began to speak in Spanish. My first
question was if I had made a mistake and that maybe this was actually the embassy
and not the PC office. When they assured me I was in the right place, I
explained that I was ex-PC and wanted to see their set-up and maybe talk to the
director. I couldn’t hear exactly what was being said inside the glass office,
but they called someone down. Maybe it was the director. It was not. Someone
else was called and at this point I was beginning to think I would never be
allowed in. This was worse than any embassy security I’d ever been through.
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| Birthday Celebration: Snow Cones in the Zona Colonial |
Finally,
about ten minutes later, a man – obviously a PC volunteer or staff member, came
down and let me in. I had my bag searched, my passport taken, and I can’t
remember if there was a metal detector or not. When I was finally cleared to go
in, I must have looked as shocked as I felt. The nice Peace Corps guy smiled.
Apparently, ex-PCV’s of my era have similar reactions.
It was just a
teensy bit different back in the day, I told him. Generally, when any of us
would make it all the way to one of the offices, which might have meant a 24
hour bus ride without air conditioning, we walked in the front door – usually
open because of the heat, lit a cigarette and grabbed a beer out of the
refrigerator.
My host then
took me inside the sprawling former house-now-office. I saw a few volunteers
and heard them talking of others who might be by. It was not like that in
Brazil. You never just “dropped in” to an office; it took major planning.
Mostly, it’s because there is quite a difference between the size of the Dominican
Republic and Brazil. My first year was in Salvador, Brazil, and we had a small,
two person run office in town. My second year, it was a 7 hour night-bus trip
to get there. The closest other volunteers, were a day-or-two bus ride away.
Basically, I spent the entire second year without running into many other volunteers
at all. Obviously, I never once talked to any of them on the phone.
There are a
lot of differences today from what it was. Volunteers can actually call each
other 24 hours a day, they can Skype home, and they’ll never have to rely on
Time magazine – with pages blacked out by state censors, for their weekly news
updates.
I think all
of us who served back in the pre-tech era would agree that we were the lucky
ones. Being totally immersed in a country and its culture is no longer possible
in the age of iPhones. I couldn’t do that now, but that’s because I know
instant communication is possible. Just look how frustrated I have been over
the past month because I haven’t been able to get an internet connection for
most of my time here. The thought of having to wait three weeks to three months
to get a letter with the latest news from home, and then knowing the return
letter might take just as long, (as it did back then), makes me break out in a
cold sweat.
Although
times have changed, the Peace Corps Volunteers haven’t. They are still fighting
the good fight. They still believe that what they do can make a difference in
the world, even if that difference is for only one kid in one small town. But I
have to believe it is never just one person who benefits from our volunteers.
Generally, it’s an entire little community. I, for one, believe that I gained
more than I ever gave. I’m fairly sure that the Volunteer’s of 2016 will also
appreciate just how much they have taken away from their two years of
service.
More power to
the Peace Corps. It is America’s best export.
