July 19, 2003 - Volunteer Stories: Tammy Faye Baker wouldn’t make it in Madagascar now, but she might have if caught at a younger age. Right now I feel almost covered for life with my current threshold of tolerance.

Peace Corps Online: Directory: Madagascar: Peace Corps Madagascar : The Peace Corps in Madagascar: July 19, 2003 - Volunteer Stories: Tammy Faye Baker wouldn’t make it in Madagascar now, but she might have if caught at a younger age. Right now I feel almost covered for life with my current threshold of tolerance.

By Admin1 (admin) on Saturday, July 19, 2003 - 10:14 am: Edit Post

Tammy Faye Baker wouldn’t make it in Madagascar now, but she might have if caught at a younger age. Right now I feel almost covered for life with my current threshold of tolerance.



Tammy Faye Baker wouldn’t make it in Madagascar now, but she might have if caught at a younger age. Right now I feel almost covered for life with my current threshold of tolerance.

PUSHING THE LIMIT

PUSHING THE LI MIT, by Karen Vesely. As this crazy carnival ride we call Peace Corps is approaching its inevitable end for me, I find myself trying more and more to find words that can describe what its convoluted course has done for me, and what the world will look like when I get off and after a few months (I presume), my head stops spinning. Like any good carnival ride, it has been worth the wait, but I think only after a little cotton candy and a cherry limeade will I be ready for something else of the caliber again.

I always think back to one day, within the first three months of my service, as an appropriate synopsis of my service. It was supposed to be an en-brousse trip like any other with my MI: no more than a few unexpected obstacles, and nothing our Suzuki jeep and peanut brittle wouldn’t soften the blow of. Dr. Viviane prepared me the day before, saying I should be ready by 7, and we’d be back by 5, and to wear clothes I wouldn’t mind getting really dusty. It was when I walked to the hospital the next morning at 6:45 and watched the chauffeur (at 8) loading a sleeping bag and overnight case into the jeep that I wondered if the MI had been a little optimistic. Rafredy, the chauffeur, tried to convince me that there was no way we were going to be back the same day, but after consulting again with the MI, and telling her I hadn’t even brought my toothbrush, I felt sure that we would be back by day’s end.

The day was a lesson for me in figuring out exactly what I could tolerate. I did pretty well during the ride, although not completely understanding the laughs everyone directed at Dr. Rafeta and Jose, who had to ride off the back of the jeep on rough roads and kept falling off at the big bumps. I laughed silly at all the jokes of me turning Malagasy because of the dust that began to collect in all of our pores. And even stuffing pulverized and watered-down Bilharzia medication into upside-down and wailing kids’ mouths had its kicks. I felt I could tolerate anything if I could still sleep in my bed that night.

When that became impossible, I knew I could tolerate anything if they would just agree to let me sleep in the car. When they refused me that, I knew I could tolerate anything if, when I had to take a dump, they would let me be alone. When the MI and Rasazy squatted next to me in the moonlit field while I relieved myself (they handed me the TP), I figured only that conversation about why I am a vegetarian would push me over the limit. Then I was explaining why I don’t eat meat, and thought I could handle whatever, if there were just no fleas. When I was trying to sleep in that single with the MI and we kept getting up and shaking the fleas off out clothes, I figured all would be well if we would just skip the market the next morning. When a drunk guy at the market had to be wrestled away from me by the doctor, I just decided to stay in the car, and get all my hopes up that mail would be awaiting me back in Ambalavao. But then, when we made it back to Ambalavao a few hours later, and I was staring at an empty BP box, I realized I was still sane;

We’ve all had days, weeks, and months like this—expecting the unexpected and dealing. What made that day special? I had repeatedly constructed newer and higher thresholds of tolerance for myself, only to discover each time, that these thresholds, could be pushed even higher yet.

I think we’re born with a certain threshold of tolerance, but can push ours higher or lower over time. Tammy Faye Baker wouldn’t make it in Madagascar now, but she might have if caught at a younger age. Right now I feel almost covered for life with my current threshold of tolerance.

If you buy this much of my argument, that PC is an exercise in raising our thresholds of tolerance, the fact that there is then a threshold is a given. Although things can change a lot in our lifetime, there is a limit to how much any of us can handle sanely. Go over than, and who knows? You have a stomping fit, you ET—which varies individual to individual.

MAD VI has finished this roller coaster ride with no one tossing their cookies along the way [or tossing them cookies]. Some of us were a little queasy along the way (I know I was). But there are bigger roller coasters ahead in the future—and we’re much more capable of jumping on them and staying now.



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Story Source: Volunteer Stories

This story has been posted in the following forums: : Headlines; COS - Madagascar; Humor

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