July 1, 2003 - The Daily Californian: Crazy White Girl heading to Africa in Peace Corps
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July 1, 2003 - The Daily Californian: Crazy White Girl heading to Africa in Peace Corps
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Crazy White Girl heading to Africa in Peace Corps
Read and comment on this story from The Daily Californian by Marissa Mika who is getting ready to go to Africa in the Peace Corps and is finding that although the medical paperwork is a nightmare, the diplomatic footwork at home has proven to be the real clincher because her dad tells her why going to equatorial Africa, land of parasites, malaria and AIDS, is not a good move.I can barely get through the door these days to give assorted family members their hugs and smiles before my dad gives me this pensive and worried look that says, "Are you still really going through with this?" Internally heartbroken, I try to be externally smooth and suave, talking about the general progress of the application, how the hunt for grad school programs is going, and how excited I am to go back to the continent.
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Crazy White Girl*
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Crazy White Girl
TUESDAY,
JULY 1, 2003
It's another summery evening in the South Bay at my parents' house. Much like our family cat who runs away with extreme prejudice every time she sees me, I'm looking for the appropriate place to hide. If I surface long enough, my dad will start to tell me why going to equatorial Africa, land of parasites, malaria and AIDS, is not a good move. Can't I just go to Europe instead?
Over a month ago, I decided to apply for the Peace Corps and received a nomination to serve in Francophone Africa doing health-related issues. The medical paperwork itself is a nightmare—for the past two weeks I've had to meet with a different doc every day for some test or evaluation. The diplomatic footwork at home, however, has proven to be the real clincher.
I can barely get through the door these days to give assorted family members their hugs and smiles before my dad gives me this pensive and worried look that says, "Are you still really going through with this?" Internally heartbroken, I try to be externally smooth and suave, talking about the general progress of the application, how the hunt for grad school programs is going, and how excited I am to go back to the continent.
And I am excited. I'm passionate about development issues and know the Peace Corps is an ideal laboratory for a social scientist. I miss southern Africa down to my very core and desperately want to go back and give something back. I can't wait to return to the bustle of open markets, learning more in a few hours than I've learned in an entire semester of school.
I'm petrified as well. I'm terrified of getting seriously ill. I'm scared of speaking another language or two, although a summer's immersion in French is proving to be a fulfilling exercise. I'm worried about feeling overwhelmed by another country's culture where it is profoundly difficult to be female and white.
These worries are practical. I'd be worried if I wasn't a bit nervous about the laundry list of concerns that accompany any intense change of lifestyle. My deeper concern is that I've somehow misappropriated my priorities in life. Without a doubt, family and friends are what I hold most dear. Traveling, learning and being of general use are all close runners up, but they are nevertheless secondary.
The strain of these past few weeks in jumping from medical appointment to medical appointment has certainly surfaced in my friendships. The stress fractures of this decision are quite evident in my relations with my family, and it's painful. While I fancy myself as a decent diplomat, I don't have the rhetorical skills to completely dodge their concerns. If I did, the U.S. government would be shipping me off to the Middle East right now for mediation duty.
Is it worth it, or am I merely being a crazy white girl? (Or a crazy "umulungu" if you want to employ the slightly derogatory term for white person in isiXhosa or isiZulu.)
When I think about the alternative, which is finding a job that pays the bills while I try to figure out what graduate programs to apply to, it seems like a holding pattern similar to a "stupefy" curse from Harry Potter. I could be frozen for a time and then wake up to find myself in exactly the same place. Put in that light, the decision is obvious.
Now, if only I could make going home for these next few months a little more relaxing and peaceful, although it seems that I am not alone when it comes to going home. As one reader wrote:
"Why is it families take it upon them selves to give such elaborate commentary on the lives of the young people unfortunate enough to be in their presence? My supposedly very educated and extended family members tend to make very critical comments about the choices of one young person in the family and then complain that the young people just a year or so older never come around any more. I am a very logical person. The connection is clear to me.
"Graduating now is so much harder than it was just three years ago. You do not have the armies of recruiters and flood of career fairs we did in 2000. Confusion reigns. Assistance is scarce. What are young people to do when they graduate? With so few options out there, why can't we be more supportive of our grads?"
Just simply avoiding an articulate assault at the dinner table would be a nice beginning.
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6/30/03
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PCOL6515
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I'm going to be a EMT soon and i really want to join the peace corps, so i would like to know how i go about doing so.
