A Musing on Development

I've been thinking a lot lately about international development and my role as a Peace Corps Volunteer. The issue of sustainability, lodged into our heads from the very beginning by the records and records of failed projects, continues to be a main concern. Senegal, a small country with over 200 volunteers, is well-known for innovative, successful work within the Peace Corps community. This is, in my opinion, due to the fact that the program focuses on cross-sectoral work, emphasizing collaboration between volunteers to the greatest extent. In Niger I was prepared to spend multiple days sitting and staring into space; that won't be the case here. 

As we become more and more immersed in local African culture, I begin to question my intrusion into these peoples' lives. Sometimes I wonder what right I have to come here, to preach about a better lifestyle, and to try and incite change. I worry about the effect I might have, positively or negatively. Of course this is ultimately an arrogant thought, for likely I won't be changing anything. 

It struck me, as I left Niger, that the local people in my village seemed indifferent to my arrival but devastated at my departure. This fact has been churning in my mind ever since. Did my presence mean something greater than I realized? By the time I left, I hadn't done anything to warrant my being missed. I'd only been there for eight days. Perhaps the impact of Peace Corps' withdrawal from Niger cannot help but be felt by its people, after so many years of service. That alone serves as proof that we did something. 

The debate about foreign aid in Africa rages on in intellectual circles. Why does the continent continue to be underdeveloped? Is it the culture, the climate, the poor structure, the political instability? A combination, surely. 

Cultural barriers are by far the widest and tallest. "I won't bring my son to the clinic because it is God's will that he be sick." At times I find myself wondering what right I have to question this statement, a dangerous position to take as an aid worker. It's easy to allow oneself to be sucked into the richness of African life and ignore the harder aspects, especially for me, one who doesn't suffer from hunger or thirst. The difficult part comes in seeing beyond the laughing, smiling teeth and looking into the hollowed eyes and sharp rib cages. I believe there is a better lifestyle awaiting those who will work for it (that's why I'm here, isn't it?) and I have to get over my hesitation of convincing those who will listen. But sometimes it's easier to eat my plain rice and laugh along with everybody else. 

<3 Phoebe