10 Nice Things to Say to a Peace Corps Volunteer

Well, I can’t speak for everyone. I can’t even speak for the majority. But I can speak for me.

These are some things people have said to me over the past 2 years that have made me feel really good in a job where I have often been left feeling pretty crappy.

"Your Spanish is really good"For me, that compliment was the best and did the most to lift my spirits over the last two years. Period.

"You are friendlier than the other volunteer" or "we like you more than her, or your Spanish is better than hers ever was." There is so much love between volunteers, don’t get me wrong. But there’s also a bit of competition, especially with volunteers that you’ve replaced. When we get to site we are constantly hearing about how great they were, and it makes us want to live up to and beyond their reputation. Whenever I was told I did something better than the last volunteer, I felt a guilty twinge of happiness and success.

"Wow, you can knit!" Sometimes people think they can’t relate to you because you can’t do the things they do. Like knitting and volleyball. Both of which I couldn’t do coming here and now I’m pretty good, if I don’t say so myself.

"You’re the definition of Peace Corps." I actually had a teacher say that to me the other night. He had known other volunteers and said how they worked in site like I do but he’s never seen some one so engaged and a part of their community as I am. SO. SWEET.

"We are going to ask your boss if you can stay an extra 2 years." Sometimes people don’t seem like they appreciate you. But when they want you to extend you time here, that’s saying something. They like you. They like what you do. 

"You really do eat everything." Maybe I’ve internalized the Peruvian idea that food is love and that’s why this comment makes me proud. Yeah. I like ya’lls food, and yeah, I’m pretty awesome because I eat it even when I don’t. 

"My baby likes you now. Here, hold her." First, no babies liked me when I got here. The little ones had never seen a face like mine. The toddlers were taught that gringos would take them away if they missed behaved. This comment shows the progress I made on ¨gringa awareness¨ and the trust I’ve gained with their moms. 

"I thought you were from around here!" A tourist told me that. I was in my poncho, sitting with a couple town people playing with their kids. Yeah. I blend in. Proud of it.

"When my baby’s born, I’m naming her Alexis." The lady who told me that is still pregnant, we’ll see! There hasn’t been an Alexis named here in Chocta yet, but quite a few Alexandras and Alexanders this past year. ;)

"We’re gonna miss you. Please don’t go." *sniffle sniffle*

Well that didn’t go as expected.

This phrase in Peace Corps is usually used with a negative connotation. When no one comes to a meeting planned months in advance. When you leave with all the intentions to get a few house visits in and none of the moms are in their homes. When you want to get back to site at a certain time and there happens to be no cars to take you... This week, though, I was pleasantly surprised by my Peer Educators. In our program of “Pasos Adelante” (Steps Forward), we spend the first year training a group of students in their confidence, self-esteem, and leadership skills so that they are comfortable enough to go into classrooms and teach sex-ed to their classmates. At 13, 16, heck probably not even at 18 or 20 years of age would I have been comfortable teaching about STDs and contraceptive methods to a classroom full of my peers. But it’s our job to get 10 students to conquer this universal stage fright and “step forward” to the task.

The volunteer I replaced never was successful. Numerous volunteers I talked to from my year who were ahead of me in the process, told me about how difficult it was to get the kids in the classroom. Our health program team assured us it will be hard but doable. I was dreading this step so much, doubting my group would ever be ready, expecting they would need a month of preparation before they stepped into the classrooms. Nope. In one of our weekly meetings, I announced that they would be giving replicas this month and now was the time to prepare materials. They excitedly talked about who would go into which grade, with whom they would present, and got busy making their materials. Then two groups told me that they wanted to present the next day, because they had a free period. I assured them that if they were ready, of course they can present tomorrow but next week is also a possibility. No, they wanted to do it ASAP. The next day, two groups killed their sessions on STDs. I’m pretty sure that was the easiest thing I’ve done so far in Peace Corps! And it felt awesome! I felt so proud almost to the point of tears watching these teenagers (who right before, did ensure me that they were nervous) stand in front of their peers. I elatedly received complements from the teachers who told me my work with the kids definitely shows. I was happy so see the other students listening attentively and asking questions to my “student leaders” who answered tough questions with confidence and accuracy. 

Many of the results of our work in Peace Corps are hard or impossible to see. But sometimes there come special times when we do see clear, significant, and (do I dare say it:) life-changing results of our hard work. And those “that didn’t go as expected and I’m so thrilled” moments make you forget all of the “that didn’t go as expected and I now I want to give up” moments.

Next Level of Integration

Integration is a key to Peace Corps. Why? Without being integrated people don’t trust you, and you won’t be able to get any work done. Without integration people don’t know you and it’s lonely. Without integration people don’t like you, and it’s dangerous. So in our first few months, our job is to integrate. And I did that. I was trusted, known, and liked in my first few months. But now, after 18 months, I feel like I’ve reached another level of integration.

My “next level is integration” is what I feel like I have reached because I no longer feel like the guest of honor all the time. Instead of being tip toed around I’m been spoken to like a local. I don’t receive special treatment, I get pushed to the back of the line. Instead of being asked nicely, I get ordered. Yeah, it sounds bad writing it out, but I guess being a stranger in a foreign place, I have a different perspective! 

I realized it when taxi drivers no longer cared so much that I was comfortable, always offering me the front seat, even if it meant moving another passenger back. That happened pretty soon, after my first 3 or 4 months I’d say. And as much as I’d like that special treatment when my leg is going numb sitting squished in the back seat, it feels nice to be treated like any other Peruvian! 

Mothers Day lunch with the teachers

More recently, it was Mother’s Day. The male and single female teachers prepared lunch for the mother teachers. Last year, no matter the occasion, if there was a lunch, I was invited and not asked to do anything. This year however, I am expected to collaborate for the lunches, and in this Mothers Day case, to help cook, and serve the food and drink. Yeah I guess it seems nicer to sit back and not be expected to help out, but I love being included and feel like a part of the staff, not a visiting tourist! I also took on Mother’s Day lunch at my host family’s house. My host niece and I did all the cooking and serving. It felt awesome to be trusted with that! And I got tons of complements on my chicken!

I’ve also been included and am kept in the loop in a lot of town gossip now, which isn't always good. It feels good to be included and trusted to be confided in, but sometimes I don’t want to listen to who stole whose chicken or which family dissed which. And in a small town, it’s important to stay away from talking bad about another person because si or si (yes or yes) that person will hear about it. So I listen, nod, and avoid circles where gossip is constant.

ceremony puting on stoles

Yesterday was a ceremony in the elementary school when kids received special stoles to distinguish those who received special roles in their classroom (class police to keep order, class environment rep, etc.). Last year during this ceremony I watched from a far, took a few pictures of the group... A few bold parents asked politely, “señorita would you mind taking a picture of my son to print and sell it to me?” This year I was invited to stand up front as a town authority, I was asked to put on stoles for 4 or 5 kids, and I exhausted myself taking pictures of everyone. After the ceremony I was hounded with parents calling out to me: “Miss, take pictures of my daughter!” “ale, take this picture with my son and sell it to me!” “gringa take my picture!” “why are you calling her gringa? Her name is miss alexis!” “no her name is alexis, “miss” means señorita in English! Dauh!” It was exhausting tending to all of them, but made me chuckle and smile. 

People respect me, take care of me, but they aren’t afraid of me anymore. They aren’t afraid to ask favors, speak frankly, joke around. When people lose their distanced politeness, it makes me feel more comfortable. And if someone gives me attitude, my level of Spanish is enough now so that I can give it right back!