12/02/2004

As we walk into the house, Fox News is blaring, there are bowls of microwave popcorn and salted peanuts sitting on the coffee table, the air-conditioner is keeping the room at a pleasant 75º (about 20ºC), and the living room is filled with overstuffed easy chairs and couches. At the other end of the room is the dining area, which is piled high with ham, mushroom and cheese pizza, Fanta, Coca-Cola, paper plates and plastic silverware. Bill O'Reilly finishes his nightly ranting, and we switch the channel over to catch the beginning of Monday Night Football. This could be a typical house in anywheresville, USA, but something makes this seem a little strange; Monday Night Football happens on Tuesdays in N'Djamena, Chad.

To say that the ex-pat community lives a different lifestyle than that of Peace Corps Volunteers would be a little bit like saying it can get chilly in Anchorage in January, and sub-Saharan Africa has some minor poverty issues. Brightly lit, air-conditioned houses, refrigeration, satellite television and Internet connections. It's just like a little piece of home here in Chad- people even live in gated communities, but again, there are a few differences- the steel-plated gates here are topped with razor wire and broken glass, and the Embassy-issue guards each have large guns and nightsticks at the ready to keep out trespassers. If the American ex-pats are concerned about safety, however, they can take comfort in the fact that they're receiving a 30 percent pay bonus- 15 percent for 'hardship,' and 15 percent on top of that for 'danger.' Even without the bonus, many will make more in a month than we'll earn during our entire Peace Corps service, which is stunning when you consider that we consider ourselves wealthy by Chadian standards, pulling down a total of about $300/month.

The more cynical members of the diplomat and ex-pat community have often dubbed these miniature fortresses 'Golden Ghettoes.' Behind the walls, with the water tank full, the air-conditioner running, the TV blaring, and the hum of the generator powering it all, it can be easy to forget that you're not in the States, that you even went abroad at all.
The past week and a half has been what could best be described as a taste of how the other half lives, and then some. We've been in N'Djamena doing practice teaching in local schools, and the ex-pat community has opened their homes to us several times, for dinners, parties, games, and more. I think they may be taking a bit of pity on us, since they know we're heading out to rural villages in less than two weeks, after we officially swear in as Volunteers. Over the past 10 days, we've been to Nelson, our Country Director's house three times- once for lunch, the next evening for a Mexican feast (using ingredients purchased entirely in Chad), and yesterday a brunch for 'Liberty and Democracy Day,' the commemoration of the violent coup that brought President Colonel Idriss Deby to power 14 years ago.

Nelson and his family, I can begrudge a bit of luxury to- they've earned it. Both he and his wife Judith were Peace Corps Volunteers for three years in Niger in the early 1990's, and have definitely experienced the other end of the ex-pat lifestyle, our end. In addition, they have three young children now, nine-year-old Max, Avery, who's five, and eight-month old Zayk, who certainly didn't sign up for the Peace Corps experience. Although they definitely have a comfortable ex-pat lifestyle, the place still has a very African feel to it; wooden chairs are carved in shapes of hippopotami and elephants, hand-woven tapestries adorn the walls, leather-covered pillows and pictures of wildlife are everywhere. As a counterpoint, there's also the blissfully cool air-conditioner, the iBook at the corner desk, a GRACO playpen, and a library of children's books neatly arranged on the corner shelves. The kitchen is stocked with both American and African foods, and even has a wondrous invention of which we'll soon be deprived– a refrigerator. To actually work for Peace Corps, not just volunteer, makes for a pretty nice lifestyle- obviously I don't know specifics, but I'm sure that Nelson is well-paid, the homes are beautiful (on the inside, at least), the family is given Diplomatic Immunity and use of the State Department mail system, and virtually every expense is covered by Uncle Sam. Supposedly, many State Department (and perhaps Peace Corps employees) invest almost their entire yearly salaries- they don't need them when everything is already covered.

Nelson's house still has a semblance of African life- this isn't the case for many though. Stepping through the front door of Aly's (our Administrative Officer) house, it feels like a place in the States. When we went to watch Monday Night Football on Tuesday, like I described before, it seemed as though we could've been anywhere in the US, anywhere but Chad, really.

For the ultimate in surreal First World reverse culture shock though, we had Thanksgiving dinner with US Ambassador Marc Wall last Friday. His house is on the grounds of the US Embassy in N'Djamena, and although it's definitely a nice place by American standards, in Chad, it's positively palatial. One thing you notice immediately about N'Djamena is the dust; it's constantly settling on every surface, including your lungs. It almost seemed as though the Ambassador had managed to import air from the States as we walked in– it felt fresh, which means that it had to come from somewhere else. We spent the afternoon swimming in the pool, playing volleyball and Frisbee on the lawn, while Chadians dressed in white coats served us turkey, stuffing, ice-cold Castel and Gala beers, and chocolate cake. It sure was nice, but it was about as far from an authentic African experience as we could possibly get and still be on the same continent.

Many people say that ex-pats in Chad aren't truly happy, even if they do have all the creature comforts they could ever want. I can see why that would make sense; it's like an artificial version of American life, and it gives you plenty of time to focus on all the things that aren't here: friends, family, paved roads, and more. The Peace Corps lifestyle is so incredibly far from the American experience that we never have the opportunity to feel like we're almost home, which might make it easier, in a way. Although I'm sure I wouldn't mind having an air-conditioner in April, when it's 120º (about 45º), that'd defeat the purpose... I didn't come here to live in the States, I came here to learn, and that's something you'll never truly do behind fortified walls.

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