Monday, December 3, 2012

This is not a story about Luis

When a stone falls into a pond it creates a series of ripples that propagate through the surface of the water, displacing and carrying floating leaves, sticks, and other small particles. When two stones fall, however, the ripples from one pulse collide with the ripples of another, and energy is redistributed as either constructive or destructive interference. Constructive interference is a type of interference that occurs where two interfering waves produce a displacement in the same direction, whereas destructive interference occurs where two interfering waves produce a displacement in the opposite direction. In the latter case, the effect of one pulse on any given particle is destroyed, or canceled out, by the effect of the other pulse- but the interference is only temporarily. That is to say that two waves will collide, produce a new ripple resulting from their net effect, but eventually each will continue on propagating as it was before the point of interference.*
One stone to represent the developing world. Another stone for that the so-called developed one. Me, a particle, riding out the interference between the two of them. To promote development, to foster progress- this was my noble mission, but these waves are big, and I'm far under-qualified to navigate such a monumental collision. I want to be clear- as a Peace Corps Volunteer I help my community to address its needs, absolutely I do- but I am not capable of fostering progress in the developing world, let alone defining it. 
 
Progress for you or me might running water, a new bridge, or a lower infant-mortality rate, while for Luis it might mean getting a season job as a migrant laborer that earns him more money than he's ever earned- a whopping $14 a day. And with that $14 he can buy a few cement blocks each week to upgrade his family's mud hut, some milk for the kids, a bus ticket home every weekend, and a handle of moonshine to accompany him as he catches up with friends and family. I'm walking with him the other day when he looks at me and says, “you know, with all the projects and government programs that come through here, there's still no progress. There's still no one getting any richer.” Progress, Luis implies, means money. How can I argue with that definition, knowing full well that I, too, would prefer a comfortable life with such conveniences as clean water, health care, accessible education for my children, and some clean clothes to wear when I go to town. I would be a hypocrite to judge Luis, the subsistence farmer, for wanting to send away his daughter to a middle school that she doesn’t have to hike 3 hours to get to. After all, wouldn't I want for my own mother, who has sewn and hammered her flip flops back together multiple times, to be able to afford a new pair? Wouldn't I like to eat until I'm full? Yes, of course I would; and you all would, too. So no, I can't disagree with Luis' definition of progress, but I don't entirely agree with it, either. 
 
I do see that progress, by another definition, has come as a result of projects and programs in my community. I see that our water supply is clean and easily available, I see that the cooperative is handling a hefty UNDP grant to jumpstart a kidney bean business. I see that people in the younger generation are almost always literate, and that families have food to eat (although it may be less than enough or less than nutritional). But the lenses through which I interpret this situation are tinted. Luis sees it differently, and there's probably a whole lot of other people in other developing countries around the world who agree with him. 
 
Then what's my role in the developing world as a Peace Corps volunteer? If I'm supposed to be promoting progress, whose definition of progress should I promote? Should I be helping Luis to get what he most wants- money- by infusing him with skills and knowledge that will enable him to acquire a paying job? By doing so, I will also be encouraging him to leave behind his bamboo house, his dogs and pigs, and his crops, so that he can move to the city. There, he and his family will rent a small room in a shared complex with other migrant laborers, they'll have electricity, the school will be on the same block, and once all the food is purchased, there might even be a few bucks left for those new flip-flops- you know, the nice $4.00 ones. Never mind that he'll lose a perfectly fertile, valuable tract of land that will probably be abused by someone else who will leave it fallowed within 10 years; that he'll throw out his favorite sombrero pintado to rock a Playboy baseball cap; that he'll forget about that good ol' campo courtesy that I find so endearing and beautiful; that instead of pasearing his children will binge on tele-novelas and in doing so become obese and disconnected from their neighborhood peers; that his 6-year-old daughter, Gissell, might infer from mass media that her body is neither the right size nor color; that his son, Ariel, will be more likely to get involved in drugs as an adolescent; that the stories his grandmother spun late at night by the glow of the guarricha will be replaced by enthralling Disney plots- no, never mind any of that. What's important is that their lives will be more convenient, right? Another day, another dime towards a pair of Nike's, and Nike's mean you're not poor. Nike's mean progress. 
 
It's hard for me to feel good about advocating that kind of development. Capitalism has a shiny side that's all too easy to become fixated on when you're looking at it from the underneath, like Luis. But you and I and most everyone we know, we're looking at it from a privileged place, and from here it starts to look a little like a beast. I've seen the adverse consequences it's had on the richness of culture and natural resources- neighbors whose names we do not know but whose cars we recognize from a distance, black Fridays, oil spills and oil wars, for example. In the developed world, we work to buy, buy to live, then live beyond our means. There are men and women who've become slaves to credit-card debt, others who are so gluttonous and indulgent that it's repulsive. Everything, even progress itself, has a price, and at such a steep cost, I'm not willing to front the bill.

Acknowledging this reality, I accept that my job as a development worker is neither righteous nor prestigious. Please don't get me wrong- I am certainly not suggesting that the “capacity-building” part of being a PCV is immoral; most of what I do is beneficial and all of it is well-intended. What I am suggesting, however, is that while I may be a helping hand in Luis' pursuit of a better life, I am certainly his friend. 
 
This means that the stress, and the sacrifices, and the lofty expectations that accompany my culturally-embedded obsession with efficiency and results- they're not necessary. I can let go of my frustration with meetings that start late, or never at all, with failed projects and dwindling community interest. I can indulge in good foods, get plenty of exercise, take mid-day hammock-naps, and attend volunteer gatherings. I can tend to myself before tending to my work, and I can do so without suffering the guilt that so many volunteers force themselves to endure. Because to me, the product of my work is not nearly as important as my presence in the lives of Luis and others, and my ability to be present is directly related to my own well-being. When I'm healthy and happy, my front door, like my heart, stays open.

Two stones fall in a pond. I did not throw them, and I do not know which is more righteous, but my life here revolves around their overlapping waves. Maybe there's no saving the world happening here; maybe it's just a lot of interference, and whether it should be considered constructive or destructive, I don't know. What I do know is that the natural pattern of development, like ripples from a stone, will eventually continue in the same direction no matter what actions I take. After all, I am just another particle suspended in this turbulent place- but I am not alone. For just this one brief moment in time, I am here alongside Luis, and that's what matters most.


*http://www.physicsclassroom.com/class/waves/u10l3c.cfm


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