New Rule
Sara* is a medical student and so we often discuss the many and varied infectious diseases and types of worms available in Zambia. Last night this conversation inspired the idea of a HAZMAT suit as another item to consider for the suitcase (Alan could I get one of those faulty SanFran suits? I can put duct tape over the parts that have lost their integrity). Now imagine Keli in a yellow HAZMAT suit in Africa, peering out through her square plastic face mask, waving a plastic suited hand and saying, "Hello villagers! I am your new neighbor, I want to integrate myself into you community!" Rubbing the condensation away with her nose. Hugging her new friends with a cheek pressed against the plastic. Quickly hurrying back to her hut to rinse off with iodine. Ah it was good for a laugh at least.
But now the new rule is no imaging myself in Zambia. Not unless it is something outrageous or impossible. Like going over Victoria Falls in a barrel. Or bringing up a baby elephant as my own. That will of course continue. But no pre-conceived ideas about what life will be like. No half-baked plans about how to save the village from poverty, or Zambia from AIDS, or the world from evil. I will figure out those things when I get there. For now I will meditate on the idea that I need to keep my goals manageable, my theories inductive, and my methods ever reevaluated.
And no more reading other PCV blogs. Though in doing so I realized that Zambia is not on the moon and this is not an unblazed trail of unseen wonders. This might not have occurred to you either, but I am NOT the first volunteer to adventure into the heart of Africa. Truly! It's been done before! So I will probably tell you all about the exact same things they told their friends - the texture of roasted bugs, the details of getting violently ill, dealing with boredom, exactly how long I have been sweating, and the progress I have made on my little home improvements to keep the rain/mud/bugs/snakes out of my bed. Please act surprised when I do tell you these things cause it will probably feel like the first time it has ever happened - even if it's not.
*Sara also suggested a vile of battery acid carried around the neck and a long bladed diving knife strapped to the calf as further safety precautions. She has been really helpful.
But now the new rule is no imaging myself in Zambia. Not unless it is something outrageous or impossible. Like going over Victoria Falls in a barrel. Or bringing up a baby elephant as my own. That will of course continue. But no pre-conceived ideas about what life will be like. No half-baked plans about how to save the village from poverty, or Zambia from AIDS, or the world from evil. I will figure out those things when I get there. For now I will meditate on the idea that I need to keep my goals manageable, my theories inductive, and my methods ever reevaluated.
And no more reading other PCV blogs. Though in doing so I realized that Zambia is not on the moon and this is not an unblazed trail of unseen wonders. This might not have occurred to you either, but I am NOT the first volunteer to adventure into the heart of Africa. Truly! It's been done before! So I will probably tell you all about the exact same things they told their friends - the texture of roasted bugs, the details of getting violently ill, dealing with boredom, exactly how long I have been sweating, and the progress I have made on my little home improvements to keep the rain/mud/bugs/snakes out of my bed. Please act surprised when I do tell you these things cause it will probably feel like the first time it has ever happened - even if it's not.
*Sara also suggested a vile of battery acid carried around the neck and a long bladed diving knife strapped to the calf as further safety precautions. She has been really helpful.
posted by Keli at 8:39 AM
<< Home