3/15/05

I knew it'd happen eventually, but having Volunteers in our group leave has still come as a bit of a shock. News gets around fairly quickly, especially now that many of the Volunteers in southern Chad have cell-phones, and even without, the Peace Corps grapevine is legendary.

I'd just heard about Robin, one of the two Volunteers in the city of Abéché, in the far east of the country, and was mentally adjusting to the loss. It sounds cliché, but it really does feel like we've all been through a lot together, with almost six months of training and service so far, host families, isolation, travel nightmares, and red millet boule. I also knew that there hasn't been a single group in Peace Corps history to have everyone serve the complete 27-month term, with most groups losing a few while still in training. I was taken aback though nonetheless, when this message popped up on my cell-phone screen, courtesy of Aaron, in Kélo.

'[Robin's] old news, homie. The new news: Roger ET'd' (Early Termination, i.e. quitting Peace Corps).

I was shocked, honestly. I'd just heard a few days before that Robin had left, but now Roger too? Among our group I'd say he was one of my closer friends, and I'd assumed that I'd see him again in just a few weeks, when we'll be meeting for a training session near N'Djamena. I sent a message to Jonathan, a 2nd-year Volunteer who's good with advice what it was like for his group, how the first ET's had affected them. He wrote back, saying: "After everyone gets through training, it sorta feels like they'll always be there. Even later ones are always a shock."

Like I said, on a rational level I knew it would happen sooner of later. Even though we have a privileged life here as Peace Corps Volunteers, respected professionals in our communities, it's incredibly difficult compared to the lives that most of us lead at home. Clearly, it's not for everyone, and even those who have been through training, swore-in, and begun working can find it to be too much.

I haven't really given any thought to ET'ing, more than in the occasional moment of frustration, when I find myself thinking, "damn, it'd be really nice to be home right now." The truth is, I'm happy here, and despite (maybe because of) the difficulties, I feel like I'm learning new things constantly. Six months ago you could've handed me a ganoum, charcoal, and kerosene, and I would barely know where to begin. Six months ago I had no idea that a large water-filled clay pot can serve as a primitive refrigerator, and when I heard the word 'latrine,' I thought of boot camp or prison, and I had no intention of going to either place.

During training, we'd talked about ET's, and how they affect the collective spirit of a group. Charles, one of the second-year Volunteers told us that when people ET it undoubtedly changes the bond that we have, and our group dynamic, and in spite of the sadness we feel at losing someone, nobody sees it as a failure, that they simply weren't strong enough. Now that we've had our first departures I can see he was right- I don't know what made Roger and Robin decide they didn't want to be Volunteers any more, but I, and I think I speak for the rest of my group as well, certainly don't see them as having failed. I imagine they felt they had to do what was best for them, which is absolutely correct, and if that meant leaving, so be it. From talking with some of the other Volunteers, I know we're sad to see them go, but it isn't about what we think, honestly. If they're happier back home, that's the important thing, and I'm happier for them.

I remember meeting Robin for the first time at Staging, in the Holiday Inn in Philadelphia. She and Josh, currently a Volunteer in the city of Bongor, had just gotten off the plane from New Orleans, and from the way they laughed and joked together I thought that they were the married couple we'd heard would be in our group. We quickly discovered that wasn't the case, although it was fun to see how close they were- at times it was like watching a brother and sister. My knowledge of Louisiana consisted mainly of Forrest Gump and Britney Spears, and it was a bit of a shock for me to discover people really did talk like that. To compound the stereotype, Josh's family owns a shrimp boat, and when Robin wore her hair in pigtails during training, it almost looked like Britney had dropped by Darda, Chad. Unlike Britney, however, Robin was very intelligent, having already earned a Master's degree in French Literature before joining Peace Corps, and despite the fact that she was sick for much of our training, managed to pick up more Arabic than most of us combined. Try to imagine what the words 'salaam aleikum, inti aafe' sound like with a 'bayou twist.' Of course, the same thing happened in English- I never knew that my name could be pronounced 'NAY-than-yul.'

Strangely enough, I think my friendship with Roger also began with an accent. One of my friends back in Berkeley, named George, is originally from Chicago, and even after more than 20 years, he's still retained the slightly nasal twang in words like 'Chi-KAA-go,' and on the freeway, when he'd 'p-AAA-ss' someone. Once again I heard the same accent, again at the Holiday Inn, although this time it belonged to someone about 25 years younger than, and much more Chinese-looking than anyone named George Collins is likely to be. On our last night before we left the US for Chad, we were walking through Philadelphia's Historic District, heading towards a bar that supposedly had almost 500 different beers. As we walked along the cobblestone streets past gas-lamp-style streetlights and 300-year-old buildings, I asked Roger, seemingly out of nowhere, "Do you know that you have a really strong Chicago accent?" It was a harmless observation- we were just meeting each other, discovering everyone's little quirks. Plus, it was obvious. He looked at me with a look of either shock or bewilderment, and said, "I have a Chicago accent?"

I tried not to laugh- Roger could probably have given Mike Ditka a run for his money in the accent department.

During the next few months of training it seemed to me that Roger had two sides to his personality- on one hand he could be funny and pleasant, making the most of a challenging and new situation along with all the rest of us. On the other, he seemed to go to great lengths to isolate himself from the group at times, with nobody except him understanding why. I remember him telling me once that he was feeling homesick- I don't know for sure, but I wouldn't be surprised if that was the main reason he decided to leave.

Like I said before, this whole Chad thing isn't for everyone, even those who actually make it here. I know that Roger and Robin probably won't be the last in our group to leave, and I'm sure it'll be a shock, whenever and whoever the next person is. Every one of us has our own reasons for wanting to be here, and I suppose it's inevitable that not everyone will have their expectations met. I can imagine that the decision to make that phone call to the Peace Corps office in N'Djamena must be extraordinarily difficult, and one that I hope I won't find myself faced with. If Robin and Roger felt that that was the right thing to do, and they're happier for it now, I'm glad they did it...

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