familiar feelings.

My sister sent me this article (linked below).  The same sister who, when visiting me in Uganda told me, “You’re not as nice as you used to be.”

She insisted she didn’t mean it in a bad way.  She meant that my service had made me tough.  I had changed.  I stood up for myself in a big, unapologetic way, especially when I felt someone was trying to take advantage of me. I fought, because I saw the ways that “help” was creating dependency and certain images of white foreigners.  I fought the stereotypes assigned to me (even when they were true), even as I fought the tendency to become numb to the need all around me.  I fought when I felt anyone was trying to cheat me, even over pennies.  I fought with men who believed a white lady “friend” was their ticket out of poverty.  I fought with co-workers who thought if only I found the right rich donor friend, they could skip the formal grant-writing process.  I fought when my mother wanted to send gifts to my Ugandan friends and co-workers, lest it create a certain image.  What image did I leave in the end?  I don’t really know.  Sometimes all the fighting made me tired.  Sometimes it gave me purpose.

In my experience, all Peace Corps Volunteers go through similar frustrations over the boundaries and effects of giving.  We struggle with what sort of impression we’re leaving, what sort of image we project of America and Americans.  This writer, who worked in Northern Uganda, describes some very familiar situations- particularly the question, “Will you be my friend?” from a pushy random passerby.  In his article, Andrew Morgan captures many of the questions we ask ourselves:

ethical dilemma: giving more than we thought we gave