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About Oregon daily emerald. (Eugene, Or.) 1920-2012 | View Entire Issue (Feb. 27, 1998)
CONTACTING US NEWSROOM: ADDRESS: (541)346-5511 Oregon Daily Emerald E-MAIL P.O.BOX 3159 ode@oregon. uoregon.edu Eugene, Oregon 97403 ONLINE EDITION: www.uoregon.edu/-ode Perspectives EDITOR IN CHIEF Sarah Kickler EDITORIAL EDITOR Mike Schmierbach NIGHT EDITOR Nicole Krueger Corps forces CULTURES TO MIX Current Peace Corps volunteers often find more difficulties than they expect If you are thinking it’s time to get in touch with the altruism within, and intend to fertilize it by joining the Peace Corps to make your signature contribution to the less fortunate in worlds as signed different ordinal numbers than this one, forget about it. Others who were propelled to become vol unteers with such motivations ei ther quit, were asked to leave or were “psycho- / medi-vac-ed” (evacuated for psychological and/or medical reasons), usually within the first six months at their post. However, none of this applies to those who volunteered in the early to mid-1960s. In their crewcuts, Jackie-’dos, Pe ter Pan collars, madras Bermuda shorts, penny loafers and hootenan ny culture, they passionately em braced Kennedy’s vision. Their naivete can be excused, their epic idealism commended and even en vied. The world was a vastly differ ent place then. They were the trailblazers, will OPINION ing to live ana work in places they had never heard of, where rneir peers coma not boast about having been — Hannah places they could- p»;|i __ n't read about in UWOn the “Lonely Plan et" or look up on the Internet. This took some courage. The other day, while sitting in Espresso Roma between classes, I heard a recent graduate telling two friends about her trip to East Africa. She had always dreamed of going to that region and had finally made it, only to be confronted with the great disparity between her imaginings of the place and its reality, the former X proving better, actually. She was there for six months, and when she returned to the States, she experienced culture shock tor three, finding herself spelling out to the barista how to make (like) chai step by step as she had found it necessary to do while abroad because (like) they simply didn’t know now, having never heard or Be the stuff. Then, startled to real ize she didn’t need to be direc tive and catching herself before she enumerated all of the procedures to chai-making, she was instead em barrassed to find herself employing such accustomed behavior here in a cafe at home, of all places. She summarized that it was all part of having to readjust to her birth culture. 1 began to question what students meant when they said they needed/wanted interna tional experience, and, after the travelogue just overheard, I de spaired for the country of destina tion, for the certainty that Freya Stark and her ilk had become ex tinct, and for our future. Peace Corps still parades its pithy promise: "Tbe toughest job you’ll ever love.” For the volunteers who make it, it is not about the job, never was. The “toughest job” is merely the vehicle. One joins for all sorts of reasons — escape, change or bore dom often being the most active sur face prods. But the most deep-seat ed and compelling reason is just to look around and see and then touch it, be touched by it and with grace, sometimes live it. It works changes on you, and the ones noticed initial ly are not the most important. The most important will grab you after your return. And suddenly, years later, in another place. Peace Corps — “Learn to love your beer even with that fly.” Peace Corps — “Challenge your sense of humor — learn to look at yourself as your host nationals do and v y guffaw." Peace Corps — “Culti vate an appreciation for the art of life’s fine little foibles and grand follies.” Peace Corps — “Be glad to be of use to ^ the host nationals who discipline their chil dren bv threatening them with you.” Peace Corps, Niger, West Africa: The spice man, as I thought of him though his name was Issoufou, sat on his speckled black and white goat-skin prayer mat with an array of goods piled around him in Maine-Soroa’s mar ket. I never did find out what the bark-like pieces were used for, but I learned that the light brown balls I initially mistook for animal drop pings were called kooli-kooli, made from groundnuts (peanuts) and used to make spicy, mouth-water ing sauces poured over millet dumplings. The spice man was Hausa, and his full-moon face always broke into a broad smile when he saw me ap proach. We would exchange greet ings in Hausa about health, house hold, work and weather. My favorite part of the litany was, “Ina gajiya?" How is your tiredness? And no matter what, even if on your death mat, the response had to be, “Babu gajiya.” There is no tiredness. I would kneel on the sand and carefully survey his goods. He knew what I had come for, as I always did, but I liked to prolong the process, having spent my week with 400 high school students. I’d ask him again what those barkish things were and a lengthy, detailed expla nation followed. I would nod with relieved enlightenment, having fol lowed very little. Then, while I con tinued studying his display, he’d mix in French and ask after my hus band. 1 would respond that they, my three husbands, were in health, and I’d have to reiterate where each one lived. Sometimes I forgot what I had said the week before so that when 1 mentioned that my senior husband was in Tchad, the spice man’s brow wrinkled and he asked when CHRIS HUTCHINSON/Emerald “mai-gida” (chief of the house) had moved there from Cameroon. Then he would giggle, slap my readied palm and lecture me about how bad it was having three husbands. After all, how was the baby to know who his father was, and worse, how was the father to know which baby was his? Despite, why was I still child less? I would inquire about the spice man’s wives, all three of them. They were happy, and inevitably he’d tell me that we should get together since my husbands were away, accompa nied by a gesture of hands that was unmistakable. I’d shake my head, roll my eyes, sputter as if speechless and wag my forefinger back and forth. He would explode in delight and make the gesture again. I’d re peat the pantomime with more vig or and demand some garlic while staring at the ground. He wouldn’t move until 1 glanced up and instant ly, the gesture was thrust before me. I’d heave an exasperated sigh of impatience and disgust and tell him, in limited vocabulary, that none of it was good and all of it im possible while he chuckled and rummaged through his mound of garlic, seeking the perfect cluster for me. I’d drop centimes in his palm as if leprous, stand up and wave a brisk, “Sai wata rana,” (until the sun and moon) used when you will probably not see someone for a long time or wish not to see him again. I would start off with the finality of a concluded transaction and after trudging some distance, he’d call, “Miss! Miss!” I was Maine-Soroa’s only English teacher and the school’s only non-African. I was The Miss. I would stop, turn slowly around and ask crisply what he wanted. He would grab at the air with his right hand as if trying to en trap a fly, the gesture of come here. With slumped shoulders and reluc tant steps, I would return. The spice man had selected another large cluster of garlic and motioned with his head for me to open my bag. Then, we would shake hands and laugh. Every week on market day, we enacted this ritual. Peace Corps — “Give yourself (for) two years, get life-long com panions and a lifetime of pungent memories.” Hannah Dillon is a columnist for the Emerald. Her work appears on alter nate Fridays. Her views do not neces sarily represent those of the newspaper. CORRECTION The yearly budget numbers were reversed in the “Programs Financing” graphic in the Feb. 26 edition of the Emerald. The num bers in the 1998-99 column should have run in the 1997-98 column, and vice versa. The Emerald regrets the error. Thumbs TO KENNETH STARR: Though we have cer tainly found cause to criticize President Clin ton Inthe past, we think “independent" counsel Starr is going too far. And we aren't the only ones: in iwent weeks, even some GOP leaders have sug gested Starr's apparent lack of objecth% de stroys any credence his charges might oth erwise rave. There are several rea sons to suspect Starr's judgment might be clouded by political in terests. Many of these were compiled in a chart on the major players in the Clinton investigation that ap peared in the Feb. 23 Nation. According to the collection of writers and researchers who created the graphic, Starr has numerous ties to right-wing groups. In addition, he has received an ap pointment to chair a i row iropat urrotii m Pepperdine University, a position created by donations from a pas sionate foe of Clinton who has aiso spent millions funding right wing media Investiga tions" Of the president. Worse, Starr's law firm, Kirkland & Ellis, was being sued by the Resolution Trust Corp., one of the groups fetter subject to investigation in connection with Whitewater, when Starr was assigned to took into the scandal, finally, Starr has been accused of condoning numerous (and illegal) leaks of privileged in formation by his staff. So, if Starr is such a bad candidate for the job, how did he get the position in foe first place? The answer, ac cording to Nation abashedty conservative three-judge panel that selects independent counsels, including Starr.Rehnquist,a Nixon nominee, has never made a secret of his political interests or his desire to see asimi larly far-right judicial coalition. Clinton may be foe one accused of conspirato rial actions, but the biggest political ma chine appears to be the one, centered around Starr, that is out to get the president.
