Bittersweet

I’m not sure if I have ever mentioned in my blog that the actual reason Peace Corps sent me here was to design and manage a water project with the purpose of providing water to a community that currently has no running water. You might have noticed that I have spoken very little of this grand task, but trust me, it was for your own good. Rather than have given you the agonizingly slow step-by-step explanation of this miserable bastard of an assignment, I’ll save you the grief and give you a quick and easy synopsis of my wretched battle of futile returns.

September 2009: Arrive at site. Find out that instead of being assigned to a typical PC water project with 30-60 houses, I am given 224 houses and an old damaged set of underground pipeline to work with. I find out that my x-boss, (a man who weighs 300 pounds and has such trouble falling asleep at the wheel that PC has assigned him his own personal driver), had left his main duty of volunteer site development to the last minute, and had never actually visited my site to make sure it had a feasible project. Thanks Peace Corps. I am also immediately informed that the water source is located on the land belonging to a mean-old-lawyer-man that lives in the nearby city, and who has prohibited the community from using this water. My community project partner tells me that she is resolving the problem by way of asking her political friends for assistance. I trust her, and I wait patiently. Meanwhile, my fellow water volunteers are starting and finishing their land surveys and pipeline designs, and fundraising for their respective projects. I begin to feel worthless and bored.

End of January 2010: My project partner announces defeat after the governor, mayor, and senator all fail to provide assistance. I contemplate switching sites, but decide to see if I can make something happen with the name of the U.S. government backing me.

February 2010: I call the governor and senator atleast 4000 times each, spending half of my PC salary on phone cards. The politicians tell me each time I call that they are busy but will call me back, meaning that I was told 8000 lies. I slip into the beginnings of depression and desperation. I give up with politicians and seek assistance from the government water agency. This avenue initially appears promising, but ultimately resolves to nothing. My self worth diminishes to nothing. Just as I am about to give up for good, I get a tip from a fellow volunteer that the governor wants to talk to me. I call the governor and she sets up a meeting with the mean-old-landowner, herself, myself, and the members of my water committee. The meeting concludes with the landowner granting us permission to conduct the land survey, and with the understanding that if he approves the design, we can proceed with construction. An unimpressive slam dunk, but a slam dunk nonetheless. This glimmer of hope helps bring me out of my pathetic state of self-pity, and the fleeting thoughts of suicide begin to subside.

April 2010: We conduct the land survey and discover that the water source is of too low of an altitude to reach a large part of the community. After making a design and calculating the budget, we discover that the project will cost right around US$30,000, the most expensive PC water project to ever exist. I hit rock bottom once again. However, being so close to receiving permission to work, I figure we should keep fighting. We present the design to the landowner, promising him 3 of his own water taps, and he verbally agrees to the proposal, but tells us to wait for him to draw up a written contract before we start to work. Verbal slam-dunk. Landowner goes on vacation.

May 2010: I call the landowner at least 500 times to get the contract in order so we can start asking politicians for money. The landowner declares that he wants his son to come to the community to see exactly where the project will take place and to give his approval. I call the landowner’s son atleast 700 times and talk to him twice. The landowner calls me for the first time one morning only to tell me that his son had informed him that they just realized that there are cattle that belong to another man that drink from the river that is formed by our desired water source, and because of that, we can’t continue with the project. I throw in the towel and regret wasting the last 8 months of my life. I down an entire bottle of malaria pills.

June 2010: I bounce back. I decide that I didn’t really like engineering projects that much anyway, and that from this day on I would be a youth volunteer. Peace Corps doesn’t particularly agree with this decision, which I had actually made without consulting anyone. PC finds another water project for me in a nearby town. I agree to work on it as long as I can continue living in my original community.

July 2010: New beginnings. Miraculously, after 2 meetings with my new community, we have a fully funded project ready to start within a few months. The water system will be gravity fed. There do not appear to be any non-compliant landowners. Now that’s more like it.

While I did waste a lot of time waiting for the first water project to begin, it was time well invested into gaining the trust and friendship of community members. After being here for 11 months, the community members support all of my initiatives and efforts, something that can only be accomplished through personal time investment. For this reason, within a short period of time, we have quickly gotten a few new projects off the ground such improved stove construction, technical skills courses, and youth group activities. It was actually a blessing that the landowner never came through on his half because now I can just blame the failure of the project on him. Otherwise, I would have been faced with an outrageously expensive project that probably would have failed, upon which I would likely have been chased out of the village by and angry mob carrying flaming torches.

I guess that explanation wasn’t actually that brief, but considering this story took place over the better part of a year, it’s not too bad. Sorry this blog entry wasn’t that funny, but I needed to vent. Thanks for listening.

As a final plea for those who are willing to support, the youth camp we have planned for August 23-25 is still in need of funding. During the three-day conference, participants have a safe environment in which to examine their own culture, be introduced to other cultures, and gain the tools to combat discrimination in their communities. The conference will give my youth the opportunity to share and learn with 80 other young Dominicans throughout the northern region of the country. The conference will be financed by a grant through donations from each participating community, and from volunteers’ family and friends. The grant is through a program called Peace Corps Partnership, which allows family, friends, and the general public to donate to sustainable Peace Corps projects in a tax-deductible safe manner.

How Can You Help?
Donate! Tax-deductible donations can be made at this link.
https://www.peacecorps.gov/index.cfm?shell=resources.donors.contribute.projDetail&projdesc=517-389

Tell friends, parents, and co-workers to donate!
Thank you for all your love and support!

Cheers,

Justin