“I thought about the people who were left there. Who is going to care for them?’’

In the aftermath of Peace Corps pulling out of Honduras I have noticed two things in the media response: increased emphasis and focus on the violence and drug-trafficking going on in Honduras, and that sentiment countered by articles like the one above, lamenting Peace Corps’ decision and talking about all of the other volunteer organizations still working there.

Firstly, I am glad that there are still organizations working in Honduras in an effort to support the people there. Peace Corps is not the end all, be all of foreign aid to the country.

However, I have a big problem with the quote above. This is the number one problem I see in international volunteering and development practices and it all comes down to one itty-bitty word. Who is going to care “for them”?  It was never the job of a Peace Corps Volunteer, nor any development worker for that matter, to be the caregiver of a community. The Hondurans I know are all very capable and resilient people stuck in an extremely difficult situation with a government and justice system that does not work for them and an aid system that is not doing enough to empower them. (The keyword there is empower.)

The international community should care about what is going on in Honduras (or at least any country affected by the Drug Trade, Honduran emigration, and the resulting human rights issues should care). There is a difference, though, in caring about something and caring for something. The Honduran people need help in a lot of things, but that does not mean that all of the bleeding hearts of the developed world should go down there and hand feed all of the poor people and build houses for them (now, if you change that “for” to “with” and have a capacity-building component, that’s a different story). Doing things “for” people, especially people in a place as broken as Honduras, is hurting them much more than it is helping them. I call it the Charity Curse and Honduras has been a victim of it, in a way, for the past 50 years.

I am not happy about Peace Corps pulling out of Honduras, but considering the policy changes that Peace Corps needs to consider in order to improve operations in the country as a whole, it was the best decision. I am happy that there are organizations and groups that are able to continue their operations in the country and I wish them success, but it breaks my heart to think about how many mission trips and volunteer groups are led by that same sentiment: “who will care for these people?”

Please. Don’t care “for these people,” care “about” them. Teach them, empower them stand on their own two feet, help them demand accountability and transparency from their own government and organizations, but don’t go down there with gifts of food and houses thinking these people will be better off. More gringos will just be back in a year to do the same thing for the same people over and over again and nothing will change. That is the curse of charity; the curse of caring “for” something.

The problems and challenges Honduras faces are things that can only be solved by the Honduran people. They will need support, they may seek guidance, but if anyone tries to do it for them, whatever success is achieved will never last.

Amanda Browne is currently a Municipal Development Advisor for the Peace Corps in Honduras. For more on her experiences, check out her blog. This post is a response to Kate Bennett’s post “To Hell with Good Intentions?” in December, and a complement to Amanda’s recent post “Too Much Charity?” To hear more from Peace Corps Volunteers in Central America and the Caribbean, check out “Forever and a Day: 27 Months Abroad” by Joe Sigrin, “To Kiva Fellow or Not to Kiva Fellow,” by Rob Gradoville, or “The Peace Corps Pulls out of Honduras: The Spectrum of Human Emotion,” also by Amanda. Disclaimer: The contents of this article are mine personally and do not reflect any position of the U.S. government or the Peace Corps.

Ready for the Parade

Last week we found out that Peace Corps is pulling its volunteers out of Honduras due to insecurity. With 8 months left of service with my community and every intention of finishing them, this was not happy news. Most of us Peace Corps volunteers were shocked to hear this decision, not because of why we are being pulled out (we’ve been aware of the situation in this country since we arrived for training), but the fact that this was the decision that was made.

Given all of this, I personally feel as though I have been going through the whole spectrum of human emotions multiple times in a day. Now that the initial shock has worn off, it’s not so extreme, but it is still a roller coaster.

First I’ll forget about what’s happening or be in denial about what lies ahead and feel happy and content to be socializing and joking around with people in my site over the holidays.

Then, that dark cloud of thought comes that these may be my last few weeks with them at all and I get sad and depressed.

I try to cope by searching for the silver lining. I will get to go home and see my family back in the States (definitely a plus) and I cling to the hope that I will be able to come back in a month, though that dark cloud over my head says it’s not likely.

“I will always be able to come back and visit. There’s nothing stopping me from doing that,” I tell myself, even though I know it won’t be the same.

Sometimes I feel disappointed and frustrated that I’m forced to leave before I could accomplish all that I wanted to do here, before I could become the volunteer I could be, as cheesy as that sounds.

Whenever I hear in the news or when people are talking about some violent incident, I get so angry. These reports, while sad to hear, never got to me as much before. Now, all I want to do is scream at all of the delinquents in this country, the narcos and the politicians they’ve bought, and say, “This is all your fault! Look at what you are doing to your country, to your own people! Why don’t you care about them?! All of us expats can leave, but they have no choice but to stay. They have no choice but to put up with your greed and malice. Shame on you!”

Then there’s fear. Let’s get this straight; I have never really been afraid of something happening to me here. Only when I travel long distances do I ever feel insecure. I have always felt safe in my site. Maybe it’s because it is in a safe region of the country. Maybe it’s because I live with a host family. Maybe it’s cause the community looks out for me and I heed their advice and warnings about places to avoid. Maybe it’s cause I can understand a wide variety of things due to my high level of Spanish. Maybe it’s because I rarely go anywhere or do anything alone here. Or maybe it’s because I actually enjoy being in my town and do not feel the need to travel around so much. Sometimes all of these things aren’t enough to prevent something bad from happening, but that’s true of any place in the world.

No. The fear I feel is for my future, fear of the unknown. My plan for the next two years of my life may be shot to hell, so now what do I do? Will I be able to find a job in this economy? Will I be able to come back to Honduras sooner rather than later? Do I really have to say good-bye to this right now? Is this really happening? What am I going to do?

After all of this craziness, I generally feel tired and want to sleep, run, or cry it all away, leading me into a phase of acceptance. The situation is what it is. Perhaps it’s a blessing in disguise or perhaps it is something that will simply blow over like nothing happened. Either way, time only moves forward and I have to make the most of it.

So here’s to an amazing year and a half in Honduras and hoping that the best is yet to come.

Amanda has spent the last year and a half as the Municipal Development Advisor for the Peace Corps in Honduras. For more on her experiences, check out her blog.

Overlooking San Antonio de Flores

My journey into the field of international development was bred from a mix of wanting to be like Indiana Jones and a champion for world peace. I also really liked the idea of getting paid to travel around the world and interact with local people. That being said, I didn’t always want to be a Peace Corps Volunteer. It was always an option, but it wasn’t the option for a while.

I got into the Elliott School for International Affairs at George Washington University and was dead set on becoming a global somebody. Then I took a class my sophomore year on the Anthropology of Development and my world got shaken up a bit.

Before that class, I had a very naïve view of international development and foreign aid. Professor Shepherd quickly broke all of that down. As students we were presented with harsh realities and taught to look deeper and question the effectiveness and purpose of development work. The role of aid institutions in the Rwandan Genocide, what? You mean a dam the World Bank built actually damaged the local environment and its inhabitants? Peace Corps Volunteers aren’t the change-makers of the world? So you’re saying that international aid organizations can do more harm than good? Now, it’s not as though Professor Shepard crushed all of my hopes and dreams, but he definitely broke my rose-tinted glasses when it came to development work.

After learning that development work is much more complicated and messier than it seemed, I told myself I did not want to be a PCV. I wanted to create effective change. I wanted to make a real impact. I didn’t want to go to some far off place for 2 years of my life and have the local people resent me for my arrogance and assuming they don’t know better. I didn’t want to be a part of any organization that patronized the people it was claiming to help and empower. Furthermore, two years felt like a long time, a serious commitment. I didn’t want to commit to something that I wasn’t completely confident in. Things that had once been black and white were quickly turning gray.

So what made me change my mind about the Peace Corps?

A couple of things. First, after filling my head with more and more questions and not a whole lot of answers about international development and what working in such a field meant, I decided to do my research and see what this business was all about. Secondly, I realized that many programs like Peace Corps are about experience and perspective, not necessarily saving the world. By sharing experiences, both professional and personal, volunteers can help empower others in their community. It may not be the big impact that many an aspirante expects or hopes for when entering service, but they provide the building blocks for bigger changes that take time to develop. Much more time than two years.

Before deciding to apply to Peace Corps, I went to a number of information sessions. I hounded my local recruiter with questions about his experiences, how volunteers are supported, what the expectations are, etc. I was still hung up on the idea of committing two years of my life to this. My inner thought process was: when I finish I could be 26 and then I need two more years to get my Master’s degree so I’ll be like, 28. And then what if I want to start a family, and I’ll be so old…and down the slippery slope I went. An older, wiser friend knocked some sense into me and I concluded that two years really is not as much time as it seems.

I also went back to talk to Professor Shepherd, also an RPCV (returned Peace Corps volunteer), to get some direct, no-holds-barred advice as well. He told me (to paraphrase), “Look: the Peace Corps is a great experience and you will never have another job like it. But you can’t go into it thinking you are going to save the world and do big, amazing things for your community. If you go into it with such high expectations you are going to be disappointed and it will be much more difficult for you to be an effective volunteer. You need to focus on the little things. If Peace Corps is what you want to do, you will get the most out of it if you don’t expect too much of yourself and keep your mind open to learning everything you can from the experience.”

Armed with plenty of advice and information, I decided that I’d give Peace Corps a shot and now here I am in Honduras. The application process took a little over a year. I started writing my application in February, submitted it in April, was nominated in May (on my birthday as fate would have it), but I didn’t receive an invitation to serve until the following March with my departure date set for mid-June. It is a process that requires some patience.

The author at an HIV/AIDS charla

Now that I am past the halfway mark of my service, the advice I received is all the more relevant. Peace Corps is a great experience. I have never before felt so sure about a decision and what I am doing. However it is not without its challenges. You definitely have to be proactive, you need to maintain confidence, and “flexibility” takes on a whole new meaning. I am also incredibly grateful that Prof. Shepherd always kept it straight and taught his students how to think and question projects, programs, and expectations. Many PCV’s struggle with the harsh reality of their communities and the limits of being one volunteer in a sea of complex issues and systems. It is challenging, invigorating, and no one volunteer’s experience is identical. It is definitely not for everyone, but it is a worthy challenge for those who choose accept it.

Check out two more interesting takes on the life of a PCV: the Official PSA, and So you want to join the Peace Corps? Amanda is currently a Municipal Development Advisor for the Peace Corps in Honduras. For more on her experiences, check out her blog.

Today’s guest post comes from Rob Gradoville, a current Kiva Fellow, Rotary Scholar, and Fulbright Fellow in Cusco, Peru. Since 2005, Rob has been thinking about the best way to provide the basic services that rural folks in the developing world want and need most: clean water and electricity. During his undergraduate days he designed a water pumping system for a coffee cooperative in Nicaragua, and was hooked by every aspect of the work. He later worked with the Peace Corps in the Dominican Republic, bringing water, improved sanitation, and electricity to a mountain village over the course of his stay. Returning to graduate school he focused on environmental sustainability of service provision, and managed an Engineers Without Borders water pumping and distribution project for a village in Ecuador. Given his myriad experiences in international development work and his familiarity with some of the best-known programs for working and volunteering abroad, his post today seeks to inform would-be-do-gooder’s just what to expect from working and living la vida Idealist. Check out his last two posts, which discussed the value of overseas service-trips & overseas learning workshops and Fulbright Fellowships & Rotary Scholarships.

To recap: I imagine some La Vida Idealist readers have considered applying to the Peace Corps,overseas research grants, overseas workshops on topics in development, Fulbright Fellowships, Rotary Scholarships, Kiva Fellowships, and possibly service-learning trips if you are currently students.  The list goes on and on.  And it can seem like a big and slightly mystifying list for anyone who just wants to make a decision and do something!

There are a lot of similar experiences out there, and it can be tough narrowing down the right choice for you. Here is my perspective as foreign workers in Peru who is currently doing or has done those projects listed above.  If you are thinking about “doing something different,” “getting out of a work rut,” or “finally being one of those people who GOES and DOES something,” I hope this post helps you make a decision about what exactly to do.

The Peace Corps

The author's village in the Peace Corps in the Dominican Republic.

1) What it’s Like and What it was Like for Me

I served as a “Healthy Environments” volunteer in the Dominican Republic from 2007 to 2009. Peace Corps is something I can’t stop thinking about.  It is a mix of training, really independent work, and unique field research.  I lived in the mountains with 200 villagers, without ready access to clean water, adequate sanitation, electricity, you name it.  I bathed in the river every day, collected drinking water from a spring with the locals, and really slooooooooowed down for a bit.

I was sent there to help my village gain access to clean, piped water.  I ended up doing that, learning a lot about what it means to be poor and not receive any attention, and working on a bunch of other projects.  The first 3-5 months I was pretty uncomfortable, lonely, even scared at times.  But in the next year and a half I built closer relationships than many of mine in the states and felt much more comfortable, happy, and alive than I have ever felt in the USA.  My time was filled with sun, pipes, wrenches, concrete, donkeys, mud, plantains, mangoes, rice, beans, grants, paperwork, and more community meetings that I can count.

Peace Corps is really an in-depth, immersive service-learning experience.  Nothing is sugar-coated for you, and that might scare you at first.  But as an insider view of a different culture and a different way of life, there is absolutely nothing like it.

2) Level of Freedom or Structure

First three months are language, culture, and technical training.  After that Peace Corps staff tell you to call X number 24-hours a day for health problems, Y number 24-hours a day for other problems, drop you off in a village where you probably only speak a little bit of the local language, and say GOOD LUCK!  They tell you that you will be receiving around $300/month with which you are supposed to live, work, pay rent, buy food, all that.

In short, the Peace Corps provides the most basic structure for survival but beyond that you are on your own.  They also try to pair you up with a community that has need for your specific skill-set.  For me it worked out great.  For others, it was a mess and they had to “make it work” on their own, demonstrating their value and getting involved where they felt they could help.  Peace Corps REQUIRES you to be extremely independent, proactive, and outgoing.

3) Was I Useful? Did I make a ‘Difference’?

Yes and yes – I brought engineering skills to a village that needed them.  I also am kinda stubborn, which helped with motivation in an area that was used to beingpobre, having nada, and expecting nada. Sometimes the match of your skills meshes perfectly with the needs of the community.  If it doesn’t, you better suck it up, find where you are needed, and make it happen.  Peace Corps is an opportunity to guide the development of a poorer area, from the inside out, and will test you in every way.

4) Dolla Dolla Bills Y’all

Peace Corps doesn’t cost you one cent.  They will fly you from you house to the host country, teach you some language skills, some technical skills, and plant you in a community with a family that will take care of you for two years. When it’s all over, they will fly you back home and give you around $6,000 to “re-adjust” to the United States. It is an amazing deal, and I really hope to do it again some day.  On the other hand there is some significant investment of time (2 years of service and three months of per-service training).  On the whole, when I was at home two years later with $6,000 in my pocket, I was financially about the same place as many of my friends who had taken more traditional paths.

5) Was it Worth it?

Yes.  I am a huge fan.  The application and interview process is very rigorous and trying, and the average time between applying and being given an overseas position is usually 6-9 months, but it is well worth it.  Even if you leave your country of service without thinking you “helped” as much as you should have (this is almost universal, by the way), you leave with a very personal relationship with your host-family and community.  That relationship will affect the way you live your life, the perspectives you can understand, and overall, your level of solidarity with people who drew the short straw in life, for whatever reason.  It is not easy or straightforward, but as is a common phrase among RPCVs (Returned Peace Corps Volunteers), that this is “the toughest job you will every love.”

Kiva Fellowship

A group of Kiva borrowers just outside the city of Cusco.

1) What it’s Like and What it was Like for Me

I am currently a Kiva Fellow with Asociación  Arariwa in Cusco, Peru. If you are reading the Stories From The Field blog you probably have a good idea of what we do.  But if you don’t, I am proud to say that Kiva is one of the most organized experiences of this sort that I have participated in.  I was trained for a week in San Francisco(LONG 11-hour-days, where you learn a LOT!), paired with a microfinance organization somewhere in the world, given a desk, given specific tasks (but still the freedom to innovate and take on news tasks as they may appear), and given a lot of support from Kiva Fellows Program staff.  If I need to talk to someone in San Francisco, I can do it probably tomorrow.  If not, I can just keep showing up to my office and working with my in-country partners.

2) Level of Freedom or Structure

As I mentioned above, I was given a work-plan that I am expected to accomplish for Kiva.  They maintain long relationships with their in-country microfinance partners and can look strategically at what most needs improvement at a specific point in time.  Kiva Fellows are eyes, ears, and boots-on-the-ground implementers for all it is that Kiva does.  There is no long period of ‘figuring out what to do’ because you arrive with a very good idea of what needs to be done.  But Kiva is a very innovative startup, with an environment that breads creativity.  I have never felt stifled by any Kiva staff, and that has allowed me to enjoy each day of this Fellowship.

3) Was I Useful? Did I make a ‘Difference’?

Kiva Fellows do important work, work that keeps Kiva not only up and running, but allows them to explore new avenues of growth and innovation.  It is exciting seeing directly the improvements you make with Kiva and your partner microfinance institution.  It is also exciting to be given the chance to go meet Kiva borrowers, meet the loan officers that facilitate those loans, and hear, feel, see how these small loans are such a source of hope and improvement for people all over the world.  I studied engineering, and have not had a problem keeping up with the financial work involved with the position.  I would say if you are comfortable with mathematics and basic accounting you can expect to be utilized very well by a Kiva Fellowship.

4) Dolla Dolla Bills Y’all

The one major downfall of a Kiva Fellowship is that there is no financial support beyond basic health insurance coverage.  Fellows fundraise or directly pay for their time overseas, including the flight to San Francisco for training, the flight overseas, rent, food, etc.  This can be a substantial burden, but I think that the experience is worth the expense.  It is an investment in your personal growth, and allows you to help in a significant capacity with a major player in the world of global investment/philanthropy.

5) Was it Worth it?

Yes.  It is not as easy to say yes because, let’s be honest, a number of other programs don’t require a financial investment up front.  But the Kiva Fellows Program gives you a look into what I consider to be one of the most promising approaches to creatively finance progress and development overseas.  Like most things, and exactly like Kiva borrowers all over the world, you have to invest something financially to reap the benefits later on.

It is a bottom-up approach, and relies on the sensibilities of millions of entrepreneurs.  Kiva provides a loan.  Borrowers decide how to use it to improve their own lives.  In this way, you can be sure that the funds are used for something truly productive.  It is a simple concept, but to keep that bridge open Kiva needs your help.  Kiva NEEDS Kiva Fellows.  Entrepreneurs NEED Kiva Fellows.  And that is why the experience is so worth it.  You can be that person, fill that need, and learn a ton in the process.

*          *          *

There you have it.  Those are my impressions.  I hope this was helpful but now it is up to you to decide.  To each his own!

To recap: I imagine some La Vida Idealist readers have considered applying to the Peace Corps,overseas research grants, overseas workshops on topics in development, Fulbright Fellowships, Rotary Scholarships, Kiva Fellowships, and possibly service-learning trips if you are currently students.  The list goes on and on.  And it can seem like a big and slightly mystifying list for anyone who just wants to make a decision and do something!

There are a lot of similar experiences out there, and it can be tough narrowing down the right choice for you. Here is my perspective as foreign workers in Peru who is currently doing or has done those projects listed above.  If you are thinking about “doing something different,” “getting out of a work rut,” or “finally being one of those people who GOES and DOES something,” I hope this post helps you make a decision about what exactly to do.

FULBRIGHT GRANT

1) What it’s Like and What it was Like for Me

I am currently a Fulbright Scholar here in Peru, working with PACC-Peru on water resources issues associated with climate change in the Andes Mountains. My opinion of Fulbright is very good, though it seems to be relatively front-loaded.  The application process is very rigorous, and at the end of the day requires two very polished essays- one about who you are, and one about what you want to do as a Fulbrighter- and collaboration with a host-institution overseas, which eventually needs to write a letter of support for your work. Once in-country you are given a short (in my case, one-day) orientation by the local Fulbright staff, then are sent off to your location of study.  (Every country is different, and many include a 3-day orientation in Washington DC before departure from the United States, but mine country was not included in this event.)  Upon arrival you discuss that finely tuned research proposal with your host-institution, making modifications that range from slight variations to complete redirection, and you go on your way, exploring whatever you set out to explore.  You are not babysat, you are encouraged to get to know the country, and you are reminded that the research is only part of your experience.  Most Fulbrighters need to be reminded to chill out, not the other way around.

2) Level of Freedom or Structure

Once in country, the Fulbright experience is very open.  You receive a monthly living stipend to cover all of your expenses, and are asked to “check in” once a month just to let the Fulbright Commission know how everything is going.  In this way you really can do anything you want, as long as it is communicated with your host-institution.  I think this would be a daunting challenge if I hadn’t had significant overseas experience previously.  From another perspective, it is a once-in-a-lifetime chance to do and study whatever gets you going!  You are in the driver’s seat.

3) Was I Useful? Did I make a ‘Difference’?

Fulbrighters are listened to.  It is regarded as a very prestigious grant in both the United States and overseas (though I imagine this can depend on the host country).  Though  I am only a couple months into my grant, I am aware that my results will not simply be filed away.  They will be read and analyzed.  The potential for helping is very real.

4) Dolla Dolla Bills Y’all

Fulbright is a grant.  All expenses are paid for (after you are awarded the grant).  So, it is a great option if you have a good idea, connections overseas, and the time and patience necessary to get through the application process and overseas experience (about 2.5 years from the start of the application to the end of the grant period).  The application should be started probably 3-6 months before the submission date, which is typically about a year before the date of departure for Fulbrighters.  And, like all competitive things, there is much luck involved.  I would consider Peace Corps a “weed-in” program, where most applicants who sincerely want to help can make their way in.  Fulbright is a fine toothed comb, and even very brilliant people are not accepted for one reason or another.

5) Was it Worth it?

So far, so good.  I can’t help but compare this experience to that which I had in the Peace Corps.  As a Peace Corps Volunteer I was not respected very much by local government, and generally treated as another “missionary” of sorts.  I understood what poverty was, but felt incapable of fixing lots of the problems I saw.  As a Fulbrighter I know that I have access to much more influential people, and I will be listened to.  It seems to me that it is definitely worth it.  As a side note, had I not experienced the Peace Corps, I might have seen the Fulbright experience as semi “normal”.  I live in an apartment, pay bills, and work on my research.  In that way a Fulbright Grant is less of a life-changing experience for me than living in a mountain village; it is complete freedom to explore issues that are important to me, given the support and resources to do so.

ROTARY SCHOLARSHIP

The author concentrating wayyy too hard to try to take a steady photo, looking down on Cusco, Peru.

I am currently a Rotary Cultural Scholar in Peru. Becoming a Rotary Scholar involves an application similar to Fulbright but, in my opinion, it does not have to be nearly as polished of an idea as the Fulbright application process requires.  I am studying Quechua and water resources management with my Rotary funds.  This Rotary Scholarship provides support monetarily.  There is no orientation, no help with overseas planning, and no in-country contact for my work.  I am on my own.

2) Level of Freedom or Structure

Extremely free.  I have not communicated directly with my grantor more than once in the past two and a half months.  As a Rotary Scholar you define your own structure in the application, and you are expected to follow that plan.  But again, there is no babysitting.  Your experience is what you make of it.

3) Was I Useful? Did I make a ‘Difference’?

I am studying here, so I don’t see a direct impact to what I am doing.  Still, I know that Quechua skills will pay dividends in my Fulbright and Kiva work and will be an invaluable skill in the future.  Whereas Peace Corps was immediate gratification (seeing water come out of a pipe), Rotary is about building capacity, namely in people who they think will be able to help further down the line.  It is similar to Fulbright in this way.

4) Dolla Dolla Bills Y’all

Rotary Grants vary in the amount they provide, but they generally are very flexible as to what they can cover.  Flights, insurance, food, lodging, costs of courses and/or tutors, and cultural trips are all fair game.  The grants vary greatly in their duration, but one year seems to be common.  In my case, the funds were dispersed up-front and I am required to provide documentation of all expenses.  Whatever isn’t spent, I will have to give back.

5) Was it Worth it?

Very much so.  More than the funding, Rotary is a global network.  I hope that this experience will help me connect with like-minded people in the future as I may try to continue to “help” those in the world that need it.  As an experience by itself, I think Rotary is amazingly un-regulated.  As a first long-term overseas experience, I would not recommend it.  The structure provided by Peace Corps, Fulbright, and Kiva(discussed below)  are necessary to guide your overseas experience.  That said, if you are an experienced traveler and are looking for some funding to do something creative and open-ended, a Rotary Scholarship might be just what you are looking for.

Check out Part I, which took on overseas service-learning trips and overseas workshops, and stay tuned for Part III, which will Kiva Fellowships and the Peace Corps.

Should I become a Kiva Fellow? I imagine some La Vida Idealist readers have considered applying to the Fellowship, or have wondered what the comparison is between the Kiva Fellows Program to similar volunteer or development programs abroad. This may include the Peace Corps, overseas research grants, overseas workshops on topics in development, Fulbright Fellowships, Rotary Scholarships, and possibly service-learning trips if you are currently students.  The list goes on and on.  And it can seem like a big and slightly mystifying list for anyone who just wants to make a decision and do something!

There are a lot of similar experiences out there, and it can be tough narrowing down the right choice for you. Here is my perspective as a Kiva Fellow in Peru who is currently doing or has done those projects listed above. This series of posts will compare and contrast “what it’s like” to be a Kiva Fellow to the myriad other programs out there.  If you are thinking about “doing something different,” “getting out of a work rut,” or “finally being one of those people who GOES and DOES something,” I hope this post helps you make a decision about what exactly to do.

To that end I will categorize each of the above experience based on five criteria.

1) What it’s Like and What is was Like for Me

2) Level of Freedom or Structure

3) Was I Useful? Did I make a ‘Difference’?

4) Dolla Dolla Bills Y’all

5) Was it Worth it?

‘Nuff talk.  Enjoy!

Overseas Service Learning

College students working on clean water project in Ecuador, '11.

1) What it’s Like and What It was Like for Me

I designed community water projects in Nicaragua as a student and have directed service learning projects for students to do the same in the Dominican Republic and Ecuador(and will do the same in Peru this coming spring).

Service-learning is really close to my heart because it is how I got pulled out of the sometimes dry world of engineering and into the colorful, inspired, much more complicated world of international development..  As a fourth-year undergraduate engineering student I designed a water pumping and delivery system for a village in Nicaragua. In order to implement this project, I  wrote out a proposal and was granted $10,000 bucks from the Davis “Projects for Peace” Foundation.  This service learning experience showed me for the first time how useful my skills could be in the world.  I have never been as challenged on a daily basis as I was during that project, nor have I have I been as ecstatic to get up every day and work.  My work included engineering design, studying Nicaraguan history and politics, trying to communicate with NGOs overseas and in the states, and learning as much Spanish as possible.  Occasionally I would talk with people in the village itself through skype, and my heartbeat literally doubled from excitement.  That personal connection was something extremely knew and exciting.

Service learning may exist at your university, and may not.  If it does, be proactive and get involved, then make it your own.  If it doesn’t exist, make it happen!  I found like-minded students and professors, and was allowed to work on the first service-learning engineering project at my university.  My last year at college I learned more than I did in the previous three, thanks to this service-learning project.

2) Level of Freedom or Structure

Usually these are fairly structured, for good reason.  It is part of a class and you have to finish SOMETHING.  Small, bite-sized projects are typical for service-learning experiences.  So, don’t get involved in this if you want to have the freedom to do exactly what you want or possibly scrap your original idea half-way through.  That said, these projects typically are more open to creativity than standard theoretical projects and/or reports.

3) Was I Useful? Did I make a ‘Difference’?

My experience was great, and I think I did help.  My service-learning team (engineers and environmental science students) was lucky enough to successfully pair up with NGOs that had follow-through capabilities.  This was very important, as we were new to the work.  Looking back, we were a group of young students trying to change the lives of 350 Nicaraguans.  That is powerful stuff, and if we were alone on the project, I think we would have had little impact or worse, would have set them back.  Make sure you have a good mentor capable of picking up the pieces if you decide to start up a new service-learning project.

4) Dolla Dolla Bills Y’all

This stuff usually costs some dough.  I would expect it to be around $1000-$3000 extra to do one of these for a semester rather than typical coursework. It is possibly included in your course fees or can tack on an additional couple grand.  Every experience is different.  BUT the good news is that you can dip in the educational funds money-bucket.  Educational grant funds are huuuuuge.  You can probably apply for scholarships, grants, etc. and get away doing this kind of thing almost for free.  If your “project” costs money to implement, that’s another thing.  It will probably be much harder to find funds within your university to go and implement, but look!  Mission programs, international study offices, and outside foundations like the one mentioned above are a good start.

5) Was it Worth it?

As a foot in the door, DEFINITELY.

That said, service-learning is a mixed bag, because it is usually attached to an educational institution (universities) where there is a focus on the educational component for students.  That is great, but sometimes leaves the person/group you were serving a little disappointed.  As service-learning is a partnership between a student-group and clients (overseas or not), there is much time and effort invested on both sides.  The student group will be expected to do more than simply write a final report, in many cases.  Be wary of the impact you are having on the project beneficiaries, and make sure that when you leave they also think it was worth it.  But at the end of the day, if I had not done this I would probably be a much wealthier but much more depressed engineer, sitting in a cubicle somewhere, making calculations.  Therefore I am a huge fan of service learning as a tool to show young people how to engage their community and world, and try to help.  To read an article I published on service-learning click here.

Overseas Workshops

The author soldering together individual solar cells in Nicaragua, 2007

1) What it’s Like and What it was Like for Me

I participated in a workshop on Appropriate Technologies in Nicaragua with the National Engineering University of Managua, which entailed some basic classes on the physics behind appropriate technologies like solar panels, solar water pumps, biodigestors, solar ovens, rope pumps, composting latrines etc.  We also built our own solar panels, solar cookers, helped construct an adobe building, and practiced our intercultural skills with a “homestay” with a humble Nicaraguan family. I have also participated in a  course on Globalization, Leadership, and Technology that culminated in an overseas conference in Vietnam and Taiwan.  The conference encompassed some very high level, involved visits with CEOs of large corporations and, in my opinion, was very much an outsiders view of a local culture.  The former was a bottom-up approach.

These experiences are similar to service-learning projects being that you are really only expected to learn.  They are also a great foot in the door or a refresher course on field work in a specific part of the world.

2) Level of Freedom or Structure

These are very structured. There will probably be a schedule for everything you do, from the time you land on the runway to the time you are swooped back up. They are usually pretty jam-packed and don’t leave much freedom to “do what you want” if it isn’t the specific goal of the workshop.

3) Was I Useful? Did I make a ‘Difference’?

The goal of these courses isn’t to ‘make a difference’ at all, or at least directly.  You pay to participate in these courses, and some of those funds may go towards the efforts of an NGO or social movement, but don’t expect to directly have a huge impact on anyone.  I didn’t leave Nicaragua thinking I had helped much, but I was more equipped to do so in the future.  I knew leaving Asia that I hadn’t done anything, but the experience might contribute to my future path in life.

4) Dolla Dolla Bills Y’all

Pricey.  I have seen these offered anywhere from $500-$1500 for a week!  That adds up.  Outside funding is probably harder because of what I said in #3. These courses are similar in price to overseas vacation tours.  The only difference is that on vacation tours you typically sit on a beach, get a tan, and enjoy relaxing.  For those short on time, this is probably a good option.

5) Was it Worth it?

In terms of professional development, for sure.  It is a very unique experience and might inspire you to do more, learn more, etc.  These are typically more serious about transferring knowledge to you than service-learning trips, so in terms of personal bang for your buck they might about the same, even though service learning experiences might be much longer.  Nevertheless, the personal connection to the experience developed over a longer period of time like a service-learning project is unlikely in these shorter trips.

Stay tuned for Parts II and III, which will cover Fulbright Grants, Rotary Scholarships, Kiva Fellowships, and the Peace Corps.

Arriving to one’s town of service, one of the volunteer’s principal concerns is the host family. Will they like me? Is their house clean? Will I have some semblance of privacy and personal space? Will we be able to communicate and co-exist during my stay here? The build-up to that first meeting is a time of anxiousness and excitement.

My baby "cousin" Jeltin with his big brother Malcon

Before arriving to my town as a Peace Corps Volunteer, I had lived with four host-families in various travels and experiences. I always got along very well with them, never any serious mis-communications. (Just the occasional mishap like confusing cucumbers for horseradish. They definitely do not taste as similar as they can look.) Despite my experiences, I was just as nervous and anxious to meet this family that would introduce me to my new home for the next two years. Not to mention, I have always been accustomed to living independently with plenty of personal space. I thought for sure I was going to move into my own place after the obligatory 2-month stay with the host family.

To my surprise, I have yet to move out of my host family’s house and I having been living here for 14 months. Apart from the fact that the house is spacious, very clean, and my host mom is an excellent cook, it turns out that we really did adopt each other as family. My fellow volunteers find it hard to believe how natural and comfortable my living situation is until they come and see it for themselves.

A little bit about my living situation: the house is a quarter-block, traditional style house (patio in the center) in the middle of town. My room is one of three set apart from the main house where the kitchen, living room and two other bedrooms are. The family that lives in the house consists of my host mom, two host sisters (27 and 30 years old respectively), the husband and three-year-old son of the 27 year old, and a 16 year-old housekeeper to help my host mom. I have a 25-year-old sister who lives next door with her new husband and a 31-year-old brother who lives down the road with his wife and her family. My host mom’s husband passed away a year before I arrived, so it’s just us lovely ladies in the house. Plus Juben (my brother-in-law). All of the children are educated, finishing up their first or second university degrees and all three of the sisters are teachers, so they are very open-minded and easy to communicate with. It is an ideal set-up.

Now, let’s be honest, matching volunteers with a good host-family can be a crapshoot. Sometimes you land in situations that are not conducive to your personal and emotional health. I do think that I got lucky, but I also think that one’s attitude towards a host-family situation is crucial.  If you go into such an arrangement with the mind-set that it’s going to be horrible, or that you’re just going to get by until you can move out, you may miss out on some of the benefits and opportunities, such as:

1. Integration

Community integration is key for a volunteer, especially when operating solo as many Peace Corps volunteers do. The better you get to know the people in your community, their customs and expectations, the easier it will be for you to identify community leaders and initiatives that you can pursue. My mayor is good friends with my host family and would often stop by for coffee on Sundays. This was a great opportunity for me to get to know him and also talk to him about the community, what he was doing, and what he thought needed to get done. I also got to know people in the community by going on visits with my host mom or sisters. This was also helpful for learning the proper protocol for visits: what to say, how to behave, what to bring (if necessary), and how long was appropriate to stay. My host family was huge part of my cultural education.

2. Community news/happenings

There is no shortage of chisme (gossip) living with a host family in a small town. Between my family members and the people passing through to pay a visit, I have 24/7 access to my town’s local news network. As with most gossip, it varies from person to person, but I am generally clued into most things from the latest relationship scandals to local crime incidents.

3. Security

On that note, it is important to mention the value of a host family as local protection. Volunteers do not always live in the safest corners of the world and the added fact that they come from developed countries gives the impression that they are carrying around a lot of money. This makes volunteers bigger targets for assaults, robberies, and break-ins. Now, I’m not saying your family acts as a bodyguard in the literal sense, but they do form a shield of “belonging” over you.

Anytime the topic of break-ins comes up, my host mom always tells me, “Oh, Amandita, if you were living by yourself, for certain they already would have tried to break in to your house.” Though that would not have stopped me from moving out if I really wanted to, it is absolutely true. A single, American female living by herself? Not only would I be seen as an easy target, they’d think I was loaded as well (aka: jackpot). So far I have not had any troubles during my service, partly due to my own vigilance but also in part because my family keeps me informed about dangerous times and places.

4. Language skills

Many volunteers who live by themselves plateau in their language skills after they move out. Volunteers and staff who don’t get to see me often always comment on my high level of Spanish and conversational ability compared to when I first got here. Some friends in my community have also told me that they could barely understand what I was saying when they first met me, but now they have no problem. Chock another one up to the host fam. Living with a host family forces me to communicate in Spanish 24/7. Living by myself, I would not have to think or speak in Spanish while at home. With my host family, from the moment I wake up until I go to my room to decompress and go to sleep, I am thinking in Spanish. At first it was exhausting and took some effort, but it got easier after a couple months. It is assuredly the number one thing that has improved my fluency.

5. Other (perhaps better) family and living situations

Like I said, host families can be a crapshoot. If you don’t end up in an ideal situation, and you do not have the option to live by yourself, take advantage of the connections you make with other people and their families. Through my host family, I got to know some of the cousins that would come and visit. Turns out that we got along really well so I started hanging out at their house frequently.  As it turns out, they were one of the families originally considered to be my host family. I visit them almost everyday now. I share my computer and my iPod with them. They fix my cell phone when it gets busted, introduce me to Spanish rock music, and feed me mangos. It’s a pretty sweet relationship. If, for whatever reason, I was no longer able or willing to stay with my current host family or by myself, they would be the first people I would turn to.

6. Cost

It is a lot cheaper living with a host family than by yourself. I pay one lump sum to my host family each month and it covers food, lodging, cleaning, laundry, and utilities. Those would all be separate costs if I lived by myself, plus the initial cost of purchasing furniture. I’d say I save at least $50 a month, which is about a fifth of my monthly stipend.

Sometimes, when living abroad, it is necessary to have your own place to manage your personal space and your mental health. However, it’s not always an option and many volunteers I have interacted with dread the thought of having to stay with a host family for more than a few months. I was one of them, actually. What I have found, though, is that building a strong relationship with your host family not only provides the benefits listed above, but also a strong personal support network. Being away from one’s friends and family for an extended period of time can be incredibly difficult. Finding a family away from home makes the distance easier to deal with.

For more posts from La Vida Idealist on the eternal question of host families and homestays, check out check out “Living with Locals, for Better or Worse?” by Becca Mondshein, “Department of Homestay Security” by Kent Green, “Homestay in Rio: an Ode to Ica,” by Mehr Amin,  or “Adopting a Tico Family,” by Jen Johnson. This is Amanda’s first post with La Vida Idealist. Amanda is currently a Municipal Development Advisor for the Peace Corps in Honduras. For more on her experiences, check out her blog.

With a single click my life changed forever. Sending that email was one of the most terrifying things I’ve ever done, and yet, now eight months into my 27 month tour of service with the Peace Corps, I am proud of myself for ignoring the sirens in my head that were warning me of all the ways my life could go terribly, horribly wrong—everything from drug violence to intestinal amoebas, zero physical comfort to feeling like a, well, giant awkward gringo in the Land of the Volcanoes.

At the time I accepted, I had very little idea of what a “Municipal School Health Coordinator” actually did. It took more than a month in country before I determined that it was a rather grandiose title given the job: after 3 months of training, I would be shipped out to a tiny town in the middle of nowhere, Guatemala, where I would implement a public health program in 15 local elementary schools, as well as oversee the training of teachers and principals so that they could continue the program when I leave.

Since getting to San Sebastián Huehuetenango, or San Se more commonly, it’s also become quite clear that much of the infrastructure required to start this program—most notably water access and sanitation—is nonexistent or insufficient for the number of students (i.e., several schools I work with have over 400 students and just a single faucet for hand washing). Thus, a major part of my job in the coming years will be to wrangle, with the schools’ help, funds for multi-faucet hand washing stations, cement floors for classrooms, and a steady supply of toothbrushes, soap, and potable water.

Of course, there are benefits to working a Monday through Friday schedule, and it leaves my weekends almost always free to explore the country. The wide network of Peace Corps Volunteers in Guatemala means that no matter where I am I have a floor to sleep on and a guide to show me around. That Peace Corps operates in 76 countries worldwide, lets me believe such cheap accommodations will continue no matter where I travel next.

So where does it fit in with my doomsday premonitions before I left? I’ve seen and felt everything I thought I would—fear for my safety, for my bowels, for my pride…

But I’ve also felt cross-cultural friendships grow, my patience for fíjese que’s swell, and, perhaps more important to me than either of those, feel more comfortable with who I am, where I’m going in life, and how I’m getting there.

Joe Sigrin, new to La Vida Idealist, is currently serving as a Peace Corps Health Coordinator in Guatemala. For more about Joe, check out his travel blog.

Whether it is the self-growth that has occurred or simply the intensity of being in a foreign country, it can be hard to return to normal relationships and daily life at home. The two Peace Corps volunteers I spoke with (both here for at least one year) expressed the importance of having a support base, and/or a friend or family member who has had a similar experience or who has come to visit and seen firsthand the lives they live in Guatemala.

For example, everyone has heard of a chicken bus. But no one can truly understand the chicken bus experience until they have spent at least one hour jammed into a row of three on each side, halfway to the back on the bus. It is this kind of experience that defines a journey to Central America. It is a dividing line between those who know and those who do not.

One of the Peace Corps volunteers has asked for a year extension for her work, not ready to go home, and the other has come to terms with the idea that this is her life. Her life is one in which the expectations she had for herself and where she thought she should be after graduating college have changed. She is not heading toward a traditional life of post-graduation house-buying and baby-having and has, slightly reluctantly, given in to her internal desires to pursue an international experience.

Regardless of paths people take, the word “should” came up in every conversation. What they thought they should be doing after college, who they thought they should be, where they thought they should be. Dan, the hostel worker from my previous post, offers an interesting point: your social environment defines and reminds you of the “should” you created for yourself. Once confronted with life outside of the “should,” an individual is able to come closer to realizing their true desires — or at least their “should nots.”

So, for now, I would like to note that those who are here living and/or traveling in Central America quickly realize the value of their time here for their personal and professional futures. They recognize that “should” is relative and life is not linear. But how do they feel about the “should” and other challenges to their self-understanding? And what do their friends at home think? More on that in a future post.

Texan Whitney Devin is currently traveling around Central America, seeking volunteer opportunities.

1.  The rooster.  The nearby neighbor’s rooster seems to think that everyone should wake up even before the sun rises.

2. The hounds. The same nearby neighbor’s two hound dogs love to test their vocal skills at 6 a.m.

3. The cow. The same nearby neighbor’s one cow loves to make a series of short moos every ten seconds for nearly an hour between 6 and 7 a.m. every day.

4.  The mower.  Those incredibly loud hand-held little chopping sticks make sooooooo much noise, and why must the people using them start work so early?

But today was different.  Today was Monday morning and I awoke to the phone ringing just outside my bedroom door.  I rolled over to see the clock, fearing I had slept later than normal, and it blinked 6:31 a.m. 6:31 am!?   Really?   Who on earth is calling me before the sun is barely up and what must they need at that hour of the day, I wondered.  I put in my ear plugs and rolled over, anticipating the hounds, the rooster, the cow and the mower to start soon. This isn’t the first time it has happened. Though I may have been frustrated at 6:31 a.m. this morning, I reminded myself, it’s just cultural, so I can’t blame ‘em. Whoever “em’” is.

If there is one thing I have learned living in this country, it’s that the hours of operation of Latin American households begin much, much earlier than those in the U.S.  I’m pretty sure Latin American households open around 6 a.m. for business, open to phone calls, people popping over unexpectedly, milk deliveries with friendly chats, and so on. And they close much earlier than U.S. households, typically around 8:30 or 9 p.m. I don’t dare make phone calls after 9 p.m. — surely everyone would be fast asleep.

Over a year of living in this country and I’m still getting used to these earlier hours.  Though most in my community know that I don’t open for business until after 8:30 a.m., there’s still those select few that call me before 7 a.m.  Maybe by the time I leave in eight more months, I will be a very early morning person just like the Ticos, open for business at 6 a.m.

Rebecca Stumpf is currently a Peace Corps volunteer in Copey de Dota, Costa Rica. To read more about her experiences and see more of her photography, check out her website and photography blog. For some delicious recipes, check out her food blog.