If you're familiar with the Peace Corps, you've probably heard about the importance of integration. But for those who have been volunteers, you know it's more than just a buzzword thrown around in the first three months of pre-service training (PST). As trainees, the PC drills the importance of integration into you, forcing you almost to become numb to the word and the idea. You develop an almost "whatever happens will happen" attitude towards everything just to make it through the never-ending three months. So, this hypothetical "integration" seems almost futuristic.
Shockingly, these fantasies of moving from Peace Corps Trainee status to volunteer status become a reality. And now the integration process you learned so much about, yet simultaneously nothing, becomes your reality — your only reality.
Let me be honest here. I'm not sure I've ever been anything but, but to let this serve as a disclaimer. I am a single volunteer with my own identity, experiences, and perspective on the world, all impacting my integration. No two volunteers have the same or similar identities, experiences, or perspectives, and I learned that firsthand from my best friend, who was also a volunteer in my village. We were a ten-minute walk from one another, yet we led vastly different lives and had vastly different experiences. For example, her house was close to her neighbors with many kids, and she had a daily work schedule. Meanwhile, my house is far from my neighbors, and the work I do daily is up to me to determine.
My perspectives on integration may or may not be similar to any other individual confronted with the task of integration. However, I hope some can resonate or find comfort in my experiences integrating into a community.
Now that's out of the way… what is integration? To me, the definition of what it means to integrate and to be integrated is fluid and ever-changing. The verb to integrate sounds like a singular task — in this context, to mix myself and my identity with that of my community. But how does someone do that?
I have been a Peace Corps Volunteer for eight months and have lived in Cameroon for almost a year. Throughout the past month, I have come to understand that integration is not something that is visible or can be measured. It is not necessarily something that someone can give you feedback on, though some try. It is purely a feeling and something you must determine on your own. Of course, people in my village have said to me, "Oh, you're so integrated!" in response to me properly using a machete or when I speak the indigenous language, which is one of the best feelings in the world. But other people in my village think that being a vegetarian and a white American will never allow me to integrate into the community.
All to say, in my experience, no one can determine what integration is for you. It is something that you have to find and feel on your own. So, how have I felt integrated?
Well, the reality of it is I didn't feel integrated for my first seven months in my village. I would not say my first seven months were hard or unpleasant by any means. However, my first seven months were primarily spent twiddling my thumbs. I would often go to the market, attend community events like Youth Day or Women's Day, attend meetings for different organizations, help women in their fields, or lead an agriculture training. I would not say that I never left my house. I actually took any opportunity I could to leave my house. But notice that all the things I did were pre-planned and organized. Nothing I did around my community was spontaneous. I went where I was invited. I enjoyed meeting new people and learning more about my community while there, but once it was over, I went home.
Again, I was not struggling through this time or wishing I was somewhere else. I took this time to learn about myself and think about what I wanted to get out of my time in Cameroon. I was able to plan projects and learn about my community at my own pace. I even began teaching English to get into the community and meet more people. But the days were long, and I started feeling indifferent towards my service.
After a week at an agriculture training and speaking with other volunteers, I realized what I was beginning to feel resulted from not feeling integrated into my community. I did not feel a sense of belonging or purpose. Of course, I felt welcomed and helpful when it came to agriculture-related work, but I could not be satisfied through work alone. I needed a sense of community.
Once I returned from my agriculture training, I began snail and palm weevil farming (think beetle larvae), which are both delicacies in my village. With the help of my friend Marie and some students from the school where I teach, we built a small shed to house all of my new friends. This small act opened many doors for me. I had my neighbors and other community members come to check out what we were building, and I was given the opportunity to introduce myself and share a little about the work I was doing. I was able to share that I don't eat the palm weevils or the snails as I am a vegetarian and that they are solely for the community. I shared my plan to use the palm weevils and snails to conduct trainings with community members to help teach them how to construct the necessary habitats, breed, and care for the snails and palm weevils before giving them materials and animals to start their own small businesses.
The shed will house my snails on the far right side, and the shelving on the left will house the palm weevils. I am currently in the market for two baby ducks, which will also call the shed home!
The finished snail enclosure, which will ideally house 150-200 snails
These are giant African land snails, which I will care for and breed for the remainder of my service before passing them on to a community member.
We are expecting (200 baby snails)!
The best helper!
In these moments of sharing my work, I gained the trust of those around me as someone who wanted to help and be involved in the community, as someone worthy of getting to know. I have also found many people who are invested in these projects and want to help in any way possible. Friends and strangers alike will collect potato vines to come over and feed the snails. I also sometimes wake up to an early morning shipment of snails on my front porch. I have had children I've never met before come over and ask if they can see the snails and palm weevils or gather snails for me. My previously secluded house is now never short of curious children or new friends.
I am now known as "tantine avec les bonbons" (aunty with the candy)
Again, never a shortage
As a result of the relationships I have made through my critters and the trust I have earned, I feel more confident going out into my community despite not having a specific place to be or a specific job to do. When I leave my house, I never make it too far by myself before someone sees me and asks to hang out, join me in whatever I'm doing, or practice English, French, or the local language together. These are sometimes people I have met before, but not always. I think there remains a curiosity around the young girl who moved over 6,000 miles away from her comfortable life in America to live in a rural African village. But what previously felt like a standoffish curiosity has become a genuine desire to get to know me.
This shift in how I perceived my community's feelings for me has served as a significant shift in my service. The Peace Corps shares a chart that marks how the overall mood of the volunteer changes throughout service. The "cycle of vulnerability and adjustment" chart shows volunteers' typical highs and lows and why. Some of the lowest of lows that volunteers face are towards the beginning of service when they are not feeling integrated. Though I have been relatively steady throughout my time in Cameroon, the feeling of integration significantly changes my outlook on my life here for the better. I have always been excited about what my future looks like within the Peace Corps, but now I am excited about my future as a proud community member and the relationships that can form and grow stronger.
I recently celebrated my goddaughter Grace's 5th birthday! Her family and I baked her a strawberry and a chocolate cake over an open fire!
All clean!
When I was younger, I used to think I wasn't much of a people person. I think this was mainly because I always had all the support I could have ever needed. I grew up incredibly close to my entire family, and I always had great friendships, so I never felt like I was lacking in the relationships with those around me. Though I still have the exact same support system I grew up with, my time in Cameroon has allowed me to realize that I can never have too many people in my corner, and I can never be in too many corners.
Some incredible women I am proud to have in my corner!
I have learned the value of other ways of living and the perspectives that come from those in Cameroon. I have learned new ways to love, appreciate, and grow. Being integrated into a community opens doors. As much as I want to open as many doors as possible for those in my community, I know that it will never amount to all they have and continue to give me.
Integration is not linear, measurable, or simple. Integration is slow, confusing, and frustrating. But nothing truly worth having comes without adversity, and that is one thing I continue to take away from this experience.
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