#howiseepc

There’s a hashtag floating around Instagram that I see a lot but haven’t yet used (and probably won’t, tbh): #howiseepc 

Right now on Instagram there are over 37,000 photos living under #howiseepc. All volunteers have different experiences and the pictures along with the hashtag are meant to give a little glimpse into that particular volunteer’s life during service. Lots of photos I’ve seen with this hashtag are of puppies, or beaches, or selfies with smiling children. Some have organic, beautifully colored veggies from the market; others have freshly painted murals on the sides of a schools, hospitals or churches. Two big bags and one carry-on, ready to hit the road, Jack. There’s joyful dancing and drum beating and garden digging and mountain hiking and cake baking and girls learning and adventure having. And these are all really beautiful things that are without a doubt part of the Peace Corps experience. For some reason, though, I don’t like this hashtag. No offense to anyone who uses it, because I get what it’s trying to do. But…I just don’t like it. For a while I just assumed that I’m some kind of hashtag grinch, and let myself not like it, because we all the have right to our own opinions about things (and I’m particular and sassy and whatever). But then I started to wonder why it annoyed me so much. Why does that hashtag ignite such an intense eye roll (followed by an “ugh that’s dumb” mumble) whenever I see it? So I did some emotional unpacking to try to better understand my bah humbug reaction to this silly little thing that I shouldn’t really be thinking twice about. Then I realized that my “ugh that’s dumb” mumble doesn’t just stop there…it continues with “is that really how you see PC?”. Now we’re getting somewhere.

I think it’s because this experience can’t be summed up in a picture. Or 5. Or 100. Or 37,000. Yes this hashtag shows real glimpses of life as in…they aren’t photoshopped. Lol. But almost all the photos I see with this hashtag are joyful and fun and literally picture-perfect moments. And after being here for 1.5 years and living my own adventure, I can guarantee that how every volunteer “sees pc” is far more than just the joyful moments that live within this hashtag. Likely, that’s just a testament to the world of social media and a user’s tendency to only post positive, fun, pretty and interesting things about his/her life or experience*.

*See here to read further about it. This article reminds me that comparing my real life to others’ social media lives is like comparing apples and orange soda. 

Many moments that make my Peace Corps experience what it has evolved into are moments, situations or realizations that cannot be summed up through a photo…or even a photo WITH a caption. Further, some of these moments aren’t joyful. A lot of them aren’t joyful, actually, but worth it for the growth. Others are very joyful times I cannot wait to share over social media, but that’s not all there is to Peace Corps. 

I want to write through some of my own #howiseepc as sort of a “six months to go” reflection. 

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#howiseepc: I’m hungry, but here eat my food.

If there is one thing I’ve learned about the Mozambican culture is that it’s built on giving. In America, sometimes we think that having more is better, but here I’ve more frequently seen lived out the idea that giving more is better. Since being here, I’ve had to learn how to graciously accept gifts from people who have next to nothing to give, which is very humbling and sometimes uncomfortable. 

One day one of my students ask me if she could bring me over food…that her mom wanted to know. I said sure but why? And she said, “because my mom wants to”. That night she brought me over a big bag of cassava (a rooty veggie kind of like a potato) that they likely grew in their garden. Without being asked, and with no real reason, this family gave me a huge helping of food that they likely need to avoid hunger. Literally, just because.

Another time, I was at Mana Marta’s sitting on her stoop chatting and and hanging out and eating dinner (they always feed me even though I know they struggle to make ends meet each month). A friend of hers came over and I complimented the capulana she was wearing. About a week later, when I saw her next, she had washed the capulana and folded it up, and gave it to me. Capulanas are expensive and super useful (blankets, towels, skirts, etc.), and yet she didn’t blink an eye at giving it to me just because I complimented it. 

I once read a quote that said “No one has ever become poor from giving”. And I can truly relate to that now. While most of my neighbors and friends are living in true and utter poverty, I don’t consider them poor. To find more joy in giving than in having is really beautiful, and I’m grateful for this lesson.

#howiseepc: The meaning of life is to find your gift. The purpose is to give it away.

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#howiseepc PCV or PCC?

Have you ever had a dream where you are going somewhere routine (school, grocery store, church, etc) and accidentally forgot to put clothes on? And your heart starts pounding out of your chest when you realize every single person is stopping dead in their tracks to stare at you? And so you keep walking, hoping you’re just imagining it…but the anxiety is building. And building. And you’re like oh shit oh shit oh shit what the hell is everyone looking at? Maybe it’s toothpaste on my mouth or my fly is undone or my nose is starting to bleed or I have sweat stains under my pits…and then you look down and realize OMG I’M COMPLETELY NAKED I GOTTA GET OUT OF HERE RIGHT NOW…and then you wake up. 

I think we’ve all had a dream like that or can at least imagine it. People literally stopping mid-step or dropping what they’re doing to look at you because something about you is weird or different or noticeable. It is an efficient creator of the worst kind of anxiety, if you ask me (and since this is my blog, you did ask me). 

Well, I can confidently say that for the first 6 months at site, I felt just about like that (naked and paranoid, if you will) every time I left my house. Every single person in the street stopped. Looked. Kept looking for way longer than is socially appropriate. And 1.5 years later I still feel like this 50% of the time. Eyes staring, all the time. It’s not because I walk around naked either (although I wish it was because then at least I could end the struggle by putting on some clothes). Instead, it’s something I cannot change: I am white. I do and will always look very different from every other member of my community (besides for my roommate and one South African friend). And that will always make people take at least a double-look but often times a solid gawk until I’m far enough way to continue about their business. Sometimes I dread leaving my house because of this. Sometimes, on grumpy days,  just want to yell WHAT ARE YOU LOOKING AT I’M JUST WALKING TO THE MARKET PEOPLE DO THAT ALL THE TIME! On friendly days, I said hello to every single person with a big smile and they smile back, excited to have spoken to me. Sometimes—on REALLY FRIENDLY days—I stop and chat. Most days, normal-mooded day, I just take a deep breath, half-smile and politely nod at everyone I make eye contact with, and try to not let it get to me. 

#howiseepc: PCC: Peace Corps Celeb. I don’t know how celebrities do it. I really, really don’t. 

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#howiseepc: changing the world? no. 

It’s actually really difficult to accept praise from friends and family who say things like, “you’re making SUCH a difference!” or “you’re making the world a better place!” or “what a selfless thing you’re doing!”. Because, the truth is, sometimes I feel like I’m making very little difference here at all. When I leave, the school system will still be corrupt and dysfunctional. Teenagers will still be coerced into premature marriage. Women’s husbands will leave them, while cultural norms allow these same “leavers” to maintain control over their had-then-left wives. Babies will still be malnourished and families will still live in one-room reed huts and some of my students will grow up and sell bread on the street, alongside many other poor women. Mozambique’s problems will not be fixed because of my 2-year presence here. And sometimes, as silly as it sounds, that’s hard to swallow. 

However, there are some moments that have confirmed that while I’m definitely not changing the world, I probably did change pelo menos uma vida (at least one life). Here's an example: 

Mércia (name kept for authenticity purposes because she lives on a different continent than 99% of my readers and if she grows up to be famous you’ll all be able to make the connection),  is a student that I had last year in 11th grade and who continued this year as one of my 12th grade students. Last year, she actually didn’t pass math, but she passed enough of her other classes to be able to move onto 12th grade. This actually surprised me, because she was not a good student. She barely did her homework, and when she did, only half the answers—at most—were complete. When she would give a correct answer in class, and I would ask “good, now tell me how you know” she would get a major attitude and say “porque é” (because it is). She would show up late and leave early, on days that she showed up at all. By the end of the year, it got a little better, but honestly I didn’t have much faith in her. 

To my surprise, she was on my 12th grade class list and I made a mental note that she will probably be a “non-tryer” again this year. However, she turned in her first assignment on time, and got 10/10. The next assignment was 9/10 and again on time. The third assignment, which served as a take-home test, she got 14/20, which is a really good grade here in Moz (10 is passing). Her turnaround was weird in a good way. I pulled her aside after class one day and asked what had gotten into her. “Last year you barely studied and this year you’re doing really well…what changed?”. And she said “at the end of the year I realized I was starting to actually understand some things. So this year I decided to try to see if I could actually learn from you. And because of your explanations, I am. I know I can do it now.” I thanked her for the compliment and told her to keep up the good work. I also reminded her that if we get to a topic that she doesn’t understand, she shouldn’t give up. Instead, I am always available to give extra help to students who ask for it. 

We are at the end of the second trimester of her 12th grade year, and she’s still one of the higher performing students in the class. Go Mércia. Go Sarah. Go girls. Math rules.

#howiseepc: Changing [maybe] a life but definitely not the world.

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