Leaving Isn't Easy

In the famous final episode of the “M*A*S*H” television show, B.J. Hunnicutt has a hard time saying the word “goodbye” to his friends. Despite Hawkeye's urging to say the word, he refuses. However, as a final farewell to his best friend, he spells out the dreaded word in rocks near the helicopter pad, so that it can be read by Hawkeye as he flies away. [By the way, a friend from college recently visited the site where the M*A*S*H series was filmed, which is now Malibu Creek State Park—after seeing his pictures, I'd love to visit this site someday, too.]

Just like Dr. Hunnicutt, I'm finding it hard to say goodbye to my village—especially to the children, who have become my de facto grandchildren. Most of my age peer group have grandchildren, and frequently talk about them. Not having any grandchildren myself, I didn't fully understand their fascination. However, after spending two years working closely with the children of the village (including younger siblings who aren't yet in school), these children have won my heart. I now have a far greater appreciation for my peers who are constantly going on about their grandkids. I will miss their hugs!

This is just one of the many life lessons I have learned during my 27 month tour of duty with the Peace Corps. Below are nine more life lessons (in no particular order) that add up to my “Top Ten” list of what I learned while serving:

2.) The more you give, the more you get! I knew this basic tenet before I left the USA, and tried to practice it, but I saw it in action more than ever down here. Call it karma or God's blessings or whatever, I constantly found myself the recipient of someone else's generosity, often when I least expected it. I also have to thank all of my friends, some of whom I haven't seen in many years, who donated to the Courts for Kids project, or mailed “care packages” to me, or who donated school supplies at my class reunion, or supported me in other ways. Whether it was as simple as mailing a bunch of fancy address labels that I could give to the children as stickers, or as sophisticated as donating airline miles towards my flight to attend the high school reunion, I can't thank you enough for helping me (and my village)!

3.) I can't over-emphasize how welcome and appreciated I feel here. The folks in my village may not have much in comparison with Americans, but they have huge hearts. I am convinced that I am much safer living in my village than I will be when I return to America (with the growing drug-fueled crime wave). I feel in some ways as if I'm leaving Andy Griffith's Mayberry only to return to a divided, dysfunctional, and even dystopian America. As our president often tweets, “Sad.”

4.) A positive attitude makes life much easier. Again, this is another belief I held prior to my arrival here, but I believe it was a key ingredient to whatever success I had here, and thus I hope to continue holding onto it. There is a restaurant in a touristy village on the Atlantic side of the island ran by a Canadian man. His nickname, and the name of his restaurant, is “POZ.” He got the nickname because of his positive attitude, and I hope to continue carrying a POZ attitude throughout the remainder of my life.

5.) Americans tend to think they are the only ones who give foreign aid to needy countries around the world. Little do most Americans realize how much other countries (especially China) are providing. Besides China, I have seen signs around the island touting the involvement of Great Britain, France, Canada, Iceland, and others. Cuba provides many healthcare workers, and gives scholarships to Dominican students for higher education. Venezuela discounts oil to the islands. Heck, even the Mediterranean island of Malta, which is about half the size as Dominica (but Malta's population is more than six times greater that Dominica), donated the huge black plastic water tank on the roof of my school, so that when the public water system inexplicably cuts off, we can still flush the toilets and thus not need to cancel school. This list doesn't even include all the special assistance this island received after Tropical Storm Erika from countries like Argentina and Barbados.

6.) As a former WVU-P adjunct instructor (plus to a lesser extent my eight years on the Wood County School Board), I thought I had a little bit of an idea of what teaching was like. I will tell you that after two years here, I have a whole new appreciation for teachers of the early elementary grades, especially those trying to help children to learn to read. I found that personally, I much preferred teaching the older students than the younger ones. I love them all as my grandchildren, but there were times when they were quite a challenge in the classroom! [I forget where I copied the painting below of a Caribbean classroom, but I could certainly identify with the teacher on some days.]

7.) Humans are humans, regardless of the amount of melanin in our skins. Having just spent two years as the only white person around, I have a renewed vigor about the equality of all humans—color doesn't matter. I wrote a blog story to this effect, but given recent events in America, it can't be stressed enough. Also, along the same lines, I will admit that I have a new found respect for the beauty of black women. One of the amazing high school students who came down to help build the playing court had started a club in her school called YPB, for Young Pretty and Black. Its purpose was to promote self-confidence and provide support to black females at her school. I want to tell all her club members that they indeed are beautiful, and they shouldn't allow America's overstoked media machine to let them think otherwise.

8.) I'm surprised at how easy it has been for me to live here on the equivalent of $10,000 American dollars per year. I have a view of the ocean from my porch, and swim at the beach whenever I want, hike countless trails without worrying about snakes or ticks, and have plenty of good food to eat. Of course, there are many luxuries that I don't have (e.g., car, television, microwave, washer/dryer, dishwasher, blender) which many Americans could not live without. But for me, the simple life is the best life.

9.) As a follow-up to the last point, I've learned how despite the fact that Americans have so much more stuff, I would venture that they are not as happy with their lives as most of the folks in my village. Americans have a wealth of choices, lots of luxuries, and countless opportunities, but many of them choose to complain and overlook the bounty that has been bestowed upon them by virtue of where they were born. Unfortunately, even the smartest students in my village have very limited options for them to achieve the success they would have had if they had simply been born in the United States. Americans should realize how good they have it.

10.) One of the cultural traditions in the Caribbean is that everyone greets others with a “Good Morning” or a “Good Aftanoon” (as it tends to be pronounced here, where the “r” sound is often dropped) or “Good Night.” If you walk into a bakery, even if you don't know anyone in there, you proclaim “Good Morning” just to announce your presence. Likewise, if you are boarding a bus (van), you had best say “Good Morning” to your fellow passengers or you will be seen as someone without manners. It is a good habit that used to be done in rural areas like my beloved West Virginia, but it has evaporated over the years. I know some folks will think I am crazy, but I hope to try to continue this social practice when I return to the states.

The bottom line is that serving in the Peace Corps has been one of the most significant things I have done in my entire life! I feel like I successfully crafted the perfect escape from a career in the bureacracy. It has been a great way to transition into retirement. I'm not exactly sure what the next chapter of my life will be like, but it will not be easy to beat the joy the last two years have given me.

Plus, I was finally able to “repay” the Peace Corps for “having my back” during my law school years. If I had quit or flunked out of law school, I had planned to join the Peace Corps as a back-up plan (which I explained in the very first story on this blog). As it turned out, I didn't need to invoke that alternative plan, but I always appreciated the discussion I had held with a Peace Corps recruiter in the Mountainlair (WVU's Student Union). They were ready to pick me up if I had fallen down, so it felt good to finally help them out after all these years.

Also, I trust that by serving 800 days in “his” Peace Corps, I've finally paid a personal debt to the late President Kennedy. As I explained in the second article I wrote for this blog, one of my vivid memories of the aftermath of his assassination was that I wasn't able to watch the cartoons I enjoyed at that age. Perhaps now I don't need to feel bad about that anymore.

Thus, in closing, I'm glad I took the plunge (click here to read the story of the picture above), and feel blessed that I was assigned to Dominica. I'm able to depart from this beautiful place content with the feeling that I am leaving it in a better situation than it was in when I first arrived. It has been a wonderful experience and I will be returning over the years—I need to come back to check up on my grandchildren!