Living in the Now

Peace Corps volunteer Stephanie Stawicki '04 writes about adapting to life in a Gambian village while empowering others.

Tears streamed down my face as I sat under the baobab tree. I had finally lost control of my emotions. All I wanted to do was to turn the clock back just three hours. Perhaps I could have been there to tell her "No!" in local language and keep her out of harm's way. Mero, the sparkling two-year-old, was just being a kid, bouncing around, playing. But often she ran too close to the cooling breakfast porridge set on the ground outside the kitchen. And that day, one of my biggest fears here became a reality: Mero fell into the steaming hot porridge, and her back, legs, and genital area were severely burned. I heard her scream; it was far different than the "I want attention" cry. As soon as I heard it, I ran and noted the frantic footsteps of all of the women in my host family. We filled a bucket with cold water and plopped Mero inside, making sure all affected areas were covered. After a few minutes, I went with her grandmother – my host mother – to the local clinic. After waiting two hours to be seen by a nurse, Mero received an injection of antibiotics and her wounds were cleaned. As I held her smaller-than-average two-and-a-half-year-old legs down, and while the nurse punctured her blisters to let them drain, she screamed, and the cries continued as the freshly punctured skin was brazenly peeled away. To my host mother the nurse said in Mandinka, "A be kumboo la" or "She is crying." The nurse then turned to me in English and said, "You are crying." Quickly, I looked away, not out of embarrassment, but anger. "How could the nurse be so insensitive?" I thought. Soon, however, my host mother responded calmly (in Mandinka) to the nurse, "Yes, she's crying because she loves Mero as if she were her own daughter."

As a Peace Corps volunteer, you learn to quickly adjust, adapt, and even, at times, grow a thick skin. Then again, sometimes you just can't seem to have one that's thick enough. Since February 2007, I have been living and serving in The Gambia, West Africa, as a Peace Corps health and community development volunteer. During the first 10 weeks, I was involved in an intensive language, technical, and culture-based training program with 20 others of all different skill sets and from various parts of the United States. After passing a language test, I was officially sworn in as a Peace Corps volunteer April 13, 2007.

As with any big transition, just like my first semester at Lafayette, you undergo a wealth of emotions. Initially, after flying into Banjul International Airport, I was in a state of shock and with that, insomnia. Moving to training village, I was challenged to adjust to cultural norms and general survival skills: carrying a 20-liter jug filled with water on my head, sweating even though the only energy I'm exerting is that of breathing, and eating with my hand and making sure it was never the wrong one and always the right one. After my first night of interrupted sleep in training village, thanks to braying donkeys and crowing roosters, I proceeded to my backyard to use the pit latrine, and a swarm of flies flew up to greet me as I lifted its cover. I remember screaming out loud and asking myself, "What the hell am I doing here?" After about 24 hours, I realized I was no longer shell shocked, but instead ready to turn my dream into reality. I knew it'd be tough – full of ups and downs, hope, dismay, joy, sadness, frustration, and perhaps even satisfaction. Despite these anticipated emotions, I was ready to dig in and explore.

I live in a village of 1,200 people in a large compound that houses at least 30 on a daily basis, with others filtering in and out throughout the growing seasons and school year. These people quickly became my family, introducing me to key members of the community; they welcomed me and accepted me as if I were always a part of their lives.

When I applied to Peace Corps, my expectations were fairly non-existent. I didn't want to "save the world," for I knew I couldn't. Instead, I decided to focus on forming relationships and rapports with those who wanted to do the same with me. This "philosophy" was something invaluable I learned throughout my life –slowly gain acceptance and with that you will build strong relationships. My friendships with many of the international students at Lafayette and my multiple collegiate study-abroad experiences helped me to realize this approach was also to be a key component of my "success" here in West Africa. I was aware that acceptance must first be gained by my host family and community. Once that is achieved, one is better able to earn respect and make an impact.

As a health and community development volunteer, I am trained on how to promote behavioral change in regard to health practices, individual and group empowerment, and micro-enterprise development. I work with my assigned counterpart, a community health nurse posted by The Gambia's Department of State for Health. We work at weekly clinics, monitoring the weight, immunization schedule and records, and general wellbeing of children age 5 and under. Unlike many African countries, The Gambia provides free health care for pregnant women and children under 5. Despite the fairly consistent access to health care, Peace Corps volunteers try to impact the behavioral health practices of villagers. In addition to working with my assigned counterpart, I also have found other motivated and hardworking individuals in my community who seek to improve their lives, their families' lives, and ultimately, their community.

Whether it be demonstrating how to make a mosquito repellant out of the neem tree, soap, and oil, or teaching how to properly wash your hands with soap and water before eating out of the family food bowl, the work I enjoy doing and I feel is most effective is that on the grassroots level. If I am able to teach the four teenage girls in my host family how to make the mosquito repellant, they can sell it to their neighbors to make a small profit and ultimately assist in the fight against malaria. In addition, I work with the local school administration, trying to implement better records systems for its students and staff. Also, I've been helping local farmers who are trying to better fertilize crops, start tree nurseries, use live fencing, and implement other appropriate and sustainable gardening and farming practices.

In addition to my duties in village, I have spent the past year working with Peace Corps administration from the regional West Africa office in Dakar and Peace Corps The Gambia. Beginning in January 2008, I was asked to assist in the complete overhaul of Peace Corps The Gambia's training design and evaluation. I also am a trainer of new Peace Corps volunteers. Based on my experience in juggling academics with activities at Lafayette, I have learned how to balance my life in village with that of working closely with the Peace Corps administration.

I have always been a person who has had my life planned. I've always known the next step, or where I'm headed. And initially, especially during my first six months of adjustment here in The Gambia, I was only thinking about the comforts of America – food I craved, friends and family I missed, and what my life would be like when my service was finished. And then, six months later, one morning as I ran on a nearby bush trail, I realized I had stopped thinking about the future. Instead, I was finally living in the moment. And I have done that now for the past year, trying to extract all that I can while I'm here. There are days that I become overwhelmed, whether it be the heartache of one of my favorite children, Mero, suffering horrible second-degree burns and rushing her to the clinic where I sometimes work, or sitting, squished like a sardine, in a gutted-out Mercedes Benz van, traveling 300 kilometers to the capital for a meeting. On those days, my mind drifts to memories of the past and glimpses of the future, but ultimately, I'm living in the now because soon, this experience will be over.

Just as I've tried to build strong relationships while enrolled at Lafayette, serving the constituency as a district representative for a U.S. Congressman, and now in Peace Corps, I recognize that life is about discovery and rediscovery of your surroundings and its people, the unfamiliar, and one's self. And often, I sit under that same baobab tree where I sobbed the day Mero was injured, because there, I always realize there is no other time but now.

The opinions expressed in this article do not necessarily reflect those of the U.S. Peace Corps or the U.S. government.

 

 

 



  © Lafayette College - Terms