Cultural Sensitivity 101

There are so many cultural practices and taboos here that some days, I really wish I had a rule book. I never really thought too much if my behavior was offensive to another person, because I believe that I am conditioned to behave within the bounds of the culture I grew up in. I know the do's and the don't s, and the appropriate and inappropriate and it is second nature to me... but when you travel to another country you can pretty much throw many of your own rules and norms out the window.

I will give you one big example, as I found myself making some cultural faux paus when it comes to this subject. Luckily, I am living with quite a wonderful, amazing, understanding and PATIENT host family. The subject is the birth of a new child. My host brother's girlfriend had a baby and she has moved in with us for a few weeks. At home, as with anywhere in the world, I assume, the birth of a new baby is a special and happy time. This is naturally also the case here in Guyana. However, at home, at least in my family, as I can't speak for every religion or ethnic group in the US as there is so much diversity... I can only speak to my own experiences, and in my own experience, there really aren't many rules when it comes to introducing the new baby to the world... maybe good etiquette is to bring a gift if you weren't at the shower, to use hand sanitizer and to make sure you are not sick around the baby for obvious reasons, but that is really all I can come up with. Here in Guyana, there are many rules that deal with the health of the baby and the health of the baby's soul. I will tell you eleven of them that my host family told me, many of which, out of complete ignorance, I have accidentally broken. Again, I have a wonderful and understanding host family and am hoping that the spirits here will forgive me and not take it out on this poor child! These rules are in effect for the first NINE days of the child's life, as it is believed that in the first nine days, the child is the most vulnerable... I (and many doctors) would probably agree with this sentiment in connection to its physical well being. After nine days, the rules are no longer in effect. So here goes... disclaimer: note that this is an abridged version and simply what I have picked up from conversation or observation of just a handful of families, Guyana is extremely diverse with Christianity, Hinduism, Muslim, Rastafarian etc. There is definitely more explanation and tradition, and probably more rules across religions, that I can not even begin to understand as I have only been here for a few months:

1. If you are menstruating: no holding the baby or sitting on the bed the baby sleeps on, otherwise, the baby will get crusty eyes that are glued shut.
2. A broom must be placed by the entrance to the house.
3. No one is to see the baby who is not immediate family [I am considered family, so I can see and hold the baby whenever I want!]... but my friend came over to bring me a Popsicle (a super special treat in this climate) and she saw the baby... rule broken...
4. No one is to come in the house after 6PM, otherwise spirits who follow you home can hurt the baby as its soul is still vulnerable... I wasn't aware of this rule, so I came home the other night at 9PM... I had to walk through the door backwards to face the spirits that followed me and to tell the spirits to go away...
5. The baby isn't named for nine days – I kept asking the baby's name when I first saw him...
6. A dot (eye) is placed on the baby's brow to protect it from bad mouth (gossip and evil)... I asked why he had a dot and for about one second before it was explained, considered trying to wipe it off. Oops.
7. Something about the fridge... standing right next to the fridge, the mother called me over and asked me to open the fridge for her because she couldn't – still trying to figure this one out... maybe it has to do with the cold. Guyana is HOT and sudden cold may do something.
8. The baby needs to spend a few minutes in direct sunlight each day. The immediate thing that popped in my mind was the baby sun cages that stuck out of the windows from the olden days... Google it. I was given the baby to stand in the direct sunlight and he cried... we lasted about 20 seconds.
9. Baby needs to be burped... wait, I knew this rule!!!!! score one for me!
10. You can not go to a wake or funeral when there is a baby in your house, as the spirit of the dead will follow you home... which is very bad, again because the baby's soul is vulnerable.
11. After nine days, there is a baby shower end the baby is named. It is a huge celebration and you can bring a gift or money for the baby.

So some of you may laugh at these baby rules as they seem silly and foreign. As I am trying to be honest in these blog posts, I will tell you that, I did at first giggle in awe; they were simply so different from anything I have ever heard that I thought they were a joke. But they are not. I realized that when I hear these stories and rules (remember I mentioned the Baccu in an earlier post... many people have told me they have legit had one), I needed to keep in mind that they are legitimate to my host country and taken very seriously. It would be pure disrespect to know the rules and willingly break them, or to make fun of them (and I don't just mean the baby rules, there are so many other customs and superstitions). Going back to my own culture and beliefs, respect is one of the most important values to Americans, so while I may or may not believe in these “rules”, it is out of respect that I will adhere to them and not judge.

To put it another way, Guyanese have a rich and beautiful blend of superstition, folklore, religious beliefs and tradition. In Guyana, folklore, superstition and traditions explain every day occurrences and history. We Americans also have many superstitions, traditions and beliefs to explain things that a Guyanese, or person from another culture may find strange or silly... 11:11 make a wish... rain on wedding days... blowing out candles and making a wish that you don't tell to anyone! Groundhogs day, rabbit rabbit day. Another example, Halloween... We dress up scary, silly or... gulp, slutty... and send our children parading down the street IN THE DARK asking our neighbors for candy. Mind you that all too often, with our busy lives, we often don't even know many of our neighbors that we are sending our children to, oftentimes alone... THIS IS CRAZY. But we do it... it has been a tradition for decades and we love it and believe our children should experience it.

I will leave you with this thought when thinking about cultural sensitivity, values and norms... Imagine this: a 31 year old unmarried and childless woman left her family home at 18. She went to college, traveled to Chile at 21, got a job that paid money, lived on her own for 13 years (with female AND male roommates), and then one day, she up and left her family, friends and country for two years. To you, some aspect of this story may be your own in some way or another, and you won't even blink twice when you hear this story, and may be wondering why I am even mentioning it. But to some people in the country she is now living in, or for that matter, in the majority of countries around the world, they may see her story as crazy, completely foreign and silly. However, despite these sentiments, she and many like her are still welcomed with open arms and love all over the world. Peace Corps. 

 

Crossing the Essequebo in Parika, Guyana. Bananas for sale!!!!!!

Story Time

The power of a story

When you wish upon a star,
of magic lands and fairy dust,
sleeping princesses, good and evil.
Seven dwarfs, midnight rides,
sailing the 7 seas, and killer bees.
Pirates! Rrrrrrr, my booty. You: walk the plank!
Flying elephants, flying boys: bang-a-rang!

Shadows lost, magic bean stalks and angry dragons.
Under the sea, Kingdom of Atlantis,
talking monkeys, crying Giants,
chocolate factories: Oompa Loompa,
I have another puzzle for you.
I do believe in fairies, I do, I do!

Weepy princess kissing frogs,
I tell a lie my nose will grow.
Miracles and mean girls who gaff.
Witches who eat children;
children who are heroes.
Rodents of unusual size,
as you wish.

Poison apples and magic beans,
houses made of sweets.
Emperors, kings and pharaohs:
distant lands, around the world...
Down the rabbit hole,
Tick tock, tick tock:
we're all a little mad.

True love's kiss, chockey chockey: don't be bad.
Tricks and treats, spells and tales
overcoming feats and fears.
Monsters who smile and inspire.
Love stories to make you cry;
silly stories to make you laugh;
adventures that make you brave.

A Cat in a Hat; a tortoise and a hare;
A Sleeping Beauty.
My best friends: Alice, Ramona, Jack, Charlie, Harry and Peter Pan.

A Magic School Bus;
a mirror on the wall,
Humpy dumpty had a great fall.
Princess Bride... meet a Princess and a Pea.
Whistle while you work,
parties, masquerades and dancing shoes.

The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe.
A Journey to the Center of The Earth, a Jungle Book.
A maiden as white as snow,
One with hair as yellow as corn silk.
Rapunzel, Matilda, Ariel, Buttercup and Beezus too.
A Big Friendly Giant.
Oh, the places you will go.
Neverland, Wonderland, Oz, Hogwarts and Narnia.
A far off place, away from here,
Where the Wild Things Are:
Lions and tigers and bears, oh my!


I wrote this after talking to a teacher about how most kids don't want to read because it is like a chore and boring... I wanted to emphasize to kids that reading is anything but boring. Try reading to a kid and ask him or her to close their eyes and just let their imagination go.

The book of honesty

Be honest with yourself

This was a tough week for me in my Peace Corps journey. It wasn't tough because I slept on a hard mattress. It wasn't tough because I took a cold shower. It wasn't tough because I ate strange food for lunch. And it wasn't tough sweating out anything I took in for most of the day. These are all things that can be overcome. 27 months from now I won't think much of the cold showers, the food, or the few nights it took to get used to my mattress. What was hard was talking about diversity within my own community, and reflecting on my own stereotypes. You see, in order to understand how best to interact locally and share my culture, The Peace Corps approach is for us to understand where we are  coming from and our understanding of identity. We watched a video that really made me think about my beliefs about identity and culture. The video was a TED Talk with Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie, a Nigerian writer who discusses the dangers of a single story. The "single story" is what we see in the news, read in books or watch in movies. The single stories are the stereotypes that we see over and over again, take in, and come to believe as truth. Chimamanda recognizes that we are impressionable and vulnerable as children. She tells a story of her families house boy. Her mother tells her over and over how poor his family is; they send leftover food, hand me down clothes, and are told constantly not to waste as his family has nothing. One day, she goes to visit the house boy's family and is blown away by the love in his home and the intricate beautifully colored reed baskets in his home. Yes he was financially poor, but he was not poor in love and beauty. Her single story of him was that he was poor, and she couldn't see beyond his poverty and thus feeling sorry for him.

I like to think that I am an open, accepting and educated person who sees beauty in small things, the glass is always half full, and there is always goodness in everyone. But after listening to  Chimamanda's story, I realized that this description is not entirely true. I have many single stories of cultures and of the world. A good friend shared a quote by St. Augustine with me as I was beating myself up while contemplating how I could have been sucked into some of the stereotypes: "The world is a book, and those who do not travel, see only one page." Growing up, I was not exposed to much diversity (race, religion, ethnicity, sexual orientation) in my small community. As a result, my understanding of these identities did not come from human to human interaction, but from "second hand intake"... television, news, movies, books, newspapers, text books in school, stories from friends, neighbors and family. My knowledge of diversity and what it meant to be of another identity was swayed by many factors, the majority of which were not from first hand experience, observation or communication. My point of connection to people of various backgrounds was from these instances of "second hand intake". When someone says to me, "I am gay" or "French" or "Muslim" etc.  I cannot help but visualize the "index card in my brain" that holds all of the stories and my points of reference... I had limited first hand experience, so naturally, I was susceptible to some of the stereotypes that I had encountered. It is now, as an adult, that I must challenge these stereotypes and ideas of what race, religion, ethnicity and sexual orientation are, to formulate my own personal beliefs.

I think that recognizing, and being honest with myself that "yes, I am human and susceptible to some of these stereotypes we have all heard", is the first step towards true acceptance. How was I to know reality, without experiencing it? I haven't been to every square foot of the world, I haven't talked to the 7 billion people on this earth to get their story. At 31, Peace Corps is the starting point to reevaluate what I think I know and to create my own story of the world. Never did I imagine that Peace Corps would lead me to challenge the foundations of my beliefs and would open my mind and eyes to my own prejudices as it has. I am challenging myself that when I meet someone for the first time, to let it all go... to not think of the one page of the book or about the single story I have come to know about them,  but to get to know their full story.

Peace corps: 1 month down, 26 to go.

If you would like to hear Chimamanda's story (I hope you do!!):

http://www.ted.com/talks/chimamanda_adichie_the_danger_of_a_single_story?language=en

Where does one begin at the start of a new adventure? Flying from Miami, to Trinidad, and then, finally, after 9 years of waiting for myself to be ready for my Peace Corps time, I saw the flickering lights of my new home in the dark night... Guyana!  As I walked off the plane and down the steps to my new adventure, the first thing that hit me was the heat! Passing through customs, grabbing my two 50 lbs bags, and making my way out the door I am greeted with loud cheers and hugs of welcome from the Peace Corps staff and a few current volunteers already serving.  Dripping in sweat I can't help but smile. We are handed cake that very easily could be sliced off of a Shaw's bakery cake, and a delicious Caesar chicken salad for the ride to our hotel (it is well after 10). Packed into buses we head out... On the wrong side of the road! Yes, in my searching for any piece of information over the last few months, I forgot that Guyana was once a British colony, and hence, according to U.S. Americans, they too drive on the "wrong" side of the road. The buses whip quickly in and out of traffic, whizzing by slower vehicles, bikers and pedestrians. Our  driver, also Peace Corps staff, points out land marks as we travel on; the national stadium for Cricket and football (not to be confused with American football); horses, stray dogs, farm animals, beautiful and elegantly designed temples and houses that look like doll houses, el dorado rum (we were told Guyana has the best rum in the word, as it is produced with natural brown sugarcane.  We arrive at the hotel and it is a few small buildings with 2 floors. My roommate and I have a large room with a fan, toilet and our own shower. We soon acquire a third roommate that we decided not to kill... A dragonfly the size of my hand. We figure s/he is harmless, praying that dragonflies in the U.S. Are similar to Guyana dragonflies. It is beyond hot and I have trouble sleeping because of many reasons... New country, leaving home, heat, nervous about the Mosquitos flying in through the open window, anticipation, trying to remember  my 43 fellow peace corps trainee names... Plus staff we have just been introduced to. I watch the clock tick by, 1:30, 2:45;  3:50,  finally to fall into a slumber... Cooooookooooo cooookoooo cooookoooo coookoooo. 4:30 am and the rooster is crowing. I fall asleep and wake up for my alarm to go off at 6. We bring our bags outside for 6:30, and a group of Guyanese come out of their homes to see what the commotion is. Click click go their cameras as they take pictures of the group of "white peoples" standing in the street. We wave and smile, uncomfortable at being the center of attention, most of us having never stood out because of something so simple as the color of our skin. Click click, point point. Wave and smile.
We travel to breakfast and there are eggs, toast, chicken sausage, a shredded salmon fish, which I bravely tried, although I don't like salmon...determined that I still don't!    We drive over the demarra river via a floating bridge that is literally floating on the water. I spy a few bright red specks whizzing through the air and my first thought is, "kites?"... But nope, they are birds! We continue down the road past houses on stilts, some ornately decorated, all in bright colors like purple, blue, and orange. Everyone is walking down the road, which is shared by buses, cars, bikes, motorcycles, scooters, horse or donkey carts, cows and goats, stray dogs and of course Guyanese walking. We continue on to Parika and wait for a few hours to board the ferry to cross the Essequibo River, the largest in Guyana. A group of current volunteers are waiting for us and give us words of encouragement and advice. My first view of the Essequibo is shock and makes me a little homesick as the river reminds me of the chocolate milk I would get with my family Sunday after church. The river is huge, but I think I can see to the other side... But am quickly corrected and told that I am only seeing an Island. The Essequibo is twelve miles across and takes an hour and a half to cross... One of the islands is larger than Barbados. The ferry is crowded with cars, men, women and children, all looking on at the group of foreigners with interest. I have interesting conversations with my fellow trainees ( we are trainees until we are sworn in as volunteers). I have my first awkward bathroom experience as the toilet on the ferry has no seat... I quickly discover that there is no modesty in Peace Corps as we commiserate and share our bathroom experiences thus far.  We carry on our journey and reach Mainstay Lake Resort in Essequibo Region. Our lodging reminds me of camping in girl scouts or camp... A cabin, with separate rooms With Mosquito nets and A/C! Over the next few days we have fish, so much chicken cooked every way possible, "salad" comprised of cabbage and carrots, potato salad, fried plantain, fish fry, watermelon and pineapple, Chinese food, curry, mashed potato, cakes including with cassava flower, coffee, and juice of every tropical flavor imaginable: guava, cherry, pineapple, coconut water.

We are split into groups and travel to a site visit. The first is to a rural Amerindian community in Tapacuma where we met the village chief, known as the Tachou ( pronounced ta-shou), a woman who was a retired nurse and currently farming growing pineapple, cassava and peanuts. Her farm is a long walk through mud and as we dressed professionally, we are all wearing skirts or nice pants and shoes, and we pour sweat on the walk, but the sites are amazing... Flowers, woods, a woman doing laundry Guyanese style, blue butterflies,  little lizards, and more dragonflies as big as my pointer finger. Tachou has inspired other women in her village (25) to start farming and selling their products on market day to become more self sufficient. Tachou tells a story that reminds me of my parents and I instantly feel a kinship with her, talking about her role as a mother educating her sons and giving them the tools they need to strive and be productive members of their community rather than hiding the "mysteries" of the world from them and letting them engage in dangerous behavior because they simply aren't educated, issues like, alcoholism, drugs, peer pressure, reproduction, etc. She said educating the youth gives them the tools they need to stay safe but unfortunately they often won't listen to her, so she wants Peace Corps help... She said "I tell me kids when de be growing up de ask momme and I tell dem any-ting" . She feeds us Chana (sp?)- chick peas mashed with what I think is onions, peppers, maybe garlic and other spices... I think it is my favorite thing so far!!  Of course she gives us water from a bottle as we are out from our walk. We are told to never drink water from the tap, rainwater from the roof, or streams... (We are taught how to purify water the next day). We say our goodbyes and are given hugs.

We travel on to Anna Regina, a coastal, larger town similar to a city... But not an American city with sky scrapers... I have yet to see one of these and am pretty sure there are none. The biggest building I saw so far is a wooden schoolhouse with 3 floors.  Anna Regina has all the comforts of home: supermarket, restaurants, fire house, small health clinic, outdoor market, Main Street, houses, military base, and of course, minibuses!

The following day is lessons lessons lessons! At night we eat dinner al fresco on the lake, BBQ chicken and Mac and cheese,  and a huge Bon fire is built - not quite as big as St. Mike's senior week Bon fire but pretty darn tall. We are taught local songs, dance around the fire to Saco music and of course, to my excitement, Bob Marley songs!  We learn that Guyana songs of independence are Bob Marley's "redemption song" and also "over the hills of Babylon" (not sure of author).

We are told some folklore that makes us scared to sleep at night.
The story of the Baku: the Baku lives in the latrine and to keep it happy, you feed it banana and milk every day. The Baku is an ugly little thing about 2 feet tall, it's head bigger than its body. If you don't feed the Baku, it will break your neck. People can send a Baku your way if they don't like you.
Fish fry: one night this mother goes out to a party and leaves her 3 year old baby all alone. A neighbor sees an ugly demon come to the door offering fish fry "fish fry fish fry, you want de fish fry?" , the neighbor screams "Jesus Christ Jesus Christ in the demons face and he leaves to the next neighbor... " "fish fry fish fry, you want de fish fry?" The neighbor starts praying and screaming Jesus' name in the demons face, and the demon leaves her be. The next morning the mother comes home and finds her baby dead. It ate the fish fry. Don't ever eat fish fry at night from anyone... And moral of the story:  don't party and be irresponsible because bad things happen. Note we have had fish fry for breakfast and lunch, but not dinner so far.

Also, if you are out partying, you always walk through the door backwards to tell the ghosts and evil following you to go home. Finally, put 2 cups of rice at your doorstep because the demons will get distracted and will count the rice instead of come in your house.

I love Guyana!

"... ask not what America will do for you, but what together we can do for the freedom of man." JFK

I am at the point that I am less than three months from my departure date. My acceptance in September to serve in Guyana seems like yesterday. I have gone through a whirlwind of doctors appointments, immunizations, tests and paperwork to get me to this point. Everyone keeps asking me if I am nervous or scared. Of course I am nervous and scared! I am nervous about meeting new people, being away from the comforts of my life and my family, changing routines, and my independence. I am scared of the uncertainty of the future. I am scared of the unknown. But despite these fears, I am also excited, inspired and ready. I am excited about the unknown and I am ready to make my future. I am inspired by my friends and family and their genuine interest and shared excitement about my next adventure. I am inspired by the stories of other Returned Peace Corps Volunteers; I am inspired by John F. Kennedy's speech formulating the idea of the Peace Corps.

I have heard JFK's inauguration speech many times, and I think about it now and again, but at this stage in my life, it is taking on new meaning.

 " And so, my fellow Americans: ask not what your country can do for you--ask what you can do for your country. 

     My fellow citizens of the world: ask not what America will do for you, but what together we can do for the freedom of man." JFK

Guyana obtained its Independence on May 26, 1966, the same decade that that the Peace Corps was founded. I have been doing tons of research on Guyana and its people, culture and politics. I am pulling a lot of similarities to my own country - like the US, Guyana is diverse, a country made of numerous ethnic groups (East Indian, African, Chinese, Europeans and  Amerindians),  all trying to coexist, form a country and lead their lives. Like the US, Guyana also struggled to achieve independence from the British, and create its own government, laws and cultural identity. Guyana is young, hopeful and and like our ancestors, trying to figure out its identity and place in the world. I am excited for this next adventure and to experience this optimism.

Today is a snowy day here in Massachusetts, but as I sit here typing this looking out at the cold snowy afternoon, I can not help but smile... this will be my last winter for two years! My future is going to be HOT HOT HOT!

Road to the peace corps

It all started when I studied abroad in Chile in 2005, my senior year of college. I love travel, seeing new things, meeting new people and strangely, smelling new smells. Almost 10 years later every time I smell a wood stove, I think of my time on Chiloe, Chile and clamming with my home stay mom - one of my fondest memories of my time in Chile. It was a simple day of hunting for clams on the beach and telling stories as we searched for mussels, snails and anything she thought we could eat. We came home and she threw everything in a pot and boiled it up. Everything went in and she smiled excitedly as I nervously watched the pot boiling. She laughed when I tried a periwinkle for the first time and couldn't quite get the hang of it. As we sat around her stove the weeks I lived with her, life was simple. Life was peaceful. And life was clear. I wanted more of these experiences and adventures in my life.

After graduating from Saint Michael's college in Vermont in 2006, I started my Peace Corps application. But it quickly was swept aside as the realities of being a college graduate came over me.... Student loans! Credit card debt from nights out on Church Street in Burlington! No resume besides college and working in restaurants! I got a "real" job and started at it. I lost track of time and every few years I would think about it and re-start the application, again, only to get side tracked. This happened 4 times in 8 years.

Finally, as my 30th birthday approached, I did what any young, single, 30 year old would do... I sat down and thought long and hard about life and what I had accomplished so far. Yes I had worked at a few law firms and did well. Yes I had paid off half my student loans. Yes I volunteered for several years as a big sister ( www.bigsister.org) to a wonderful little girl. Yes I had lived in a few awesome, sometimes janky apartments with some equally awesome people. And yes, I had had the requisite fun, interesting and sometimes heart wrenching relationships. And yes I had tons of new amazing friends.... But no, I had not done peace corps. What in the hell was I waiting for?

November 2013 I decided it was time. I came up with a plan and went for it. I submitted my application in January. Started ESL tutoring per peace corps request. Had my Interview (almost 2 hrs by the way) and received my nomination in March (nominated to Dominican Republic, ESL). Then came the fun part! Medical and legal pre clearance... I won't bore you with the details, but I was finally pre-cleared the end of June 2014. And then came the waiting ... 3 months and nothing from peace corps! But I tried not to stress because I was told it would take 3-4 months to get an invitation. FINALLY, Monday of this week I got an email... The program I was nominated to was full! They said they would work to find me a new one. Terror, fear and anxiety for a hot minute... What if they couldn't find anything I was qualified for? What if I was sent somewhere I didn't want to go!! I had gone for months thinking I may be going to the Dominican Republic and now back to square one, uncertainty!  Then I just thought about it and convinced myself there is a reason behind everything, and I would wait...

Well I didn't wait long because 4 days later... Aka last night, I got an invitation! It was not at all what I expected and I honestly had to look on a map! Guyana... Located in South America smack on the north of the continent surrounded by Venezuela, Brazil, Surinam and the Atlantic Ocean. An actual English speaking country in South America, that also has Spanish, Portuguese, creole and several other languages spoken by the approximately 700k people ; a complete mixing bowl of awesomeness is all I can think! Departure date: April 2015, working in literacy/education with kids & teachers.  I have spent the last 12 hours looking at pictures, reading my welcome packet and job description, reading blogs and watching videos on how to actually pronounce Guyana. Will I accept??? Heck ya,
sign me up! So stay tuned!