On PCV Culture

As a Peace Corps Volunteer (PCV), I interact with a culture different from my own every day. This took some getting used to, but through our three-month training and by spending time with locals as much as I can, it is easier for me to navigate my new environment than when I arrived. However, while this training and spending time with locals helped me to integrate better into Ghanaian culture, it did not prepare me for the other culture into which I would soon be immersed: PCV culture.

The way PCVs behave and communicate is unique to ourselves. In fact, much like our host countries’ cultures (as PCVs are found in nations across five different continents) as well as our own native U.S.-American culture, there are both positive and harmful aspects of our way of life that have come about to help us cope with the unique challenges we face.

The most notable parts of PCV culture, of course, are the “strange” ones that most people cannot understand from the outside looking in but are central to PCV life. One such example? Being incredibly open and blunt about what is going on with our bodies. This could be just how we are doing in terms of mental health or exercising, but most of the time, this takes the form of statements like:

“It was just coming out of me from both ends! And it was green!!”

“This is the first time I’ve pooped normally all month!”

“I have this crusty red rash right in my armpit-- do you think it means anything?”

or “Ai! Look at all this mucus coming out of my blister!”

In other words… not exactly things you would include in normal daily conversation.

Another strange aspect of PCV culture is the overuse of acronyms. Most position, office, disease, and program names concerning Peace Corps have long titles that are often shortened into a few letters. Unless one is a PCV (or even if you are), hearing dozens of acronyms thrown around in conversation is unsettling and confusing. An example of (maybe slightly exaggerated) PCV banter:

“Hey! Did you ever get that project off the ground?”

“No. I’m still working on my grant. I’m doing a PCPP but the DMO is giving me a hard time.”

“Aw, that is the worst. Sorry. Are you headed to the TSO right now?”

“Yeah! I have a few emails to send to my APCD and I think I want to send a picture of my wonky front gate to the SSM and see what he thinks I should do about it.”

“Oh yeah-- and while we’re at it, I think the PCMO just sent up meds. I hope I got some. I’m running out of doxy.”

“Oh perfect! I came into town on the right day!”

Perhaps the strangest of all PCV behaviors, however, are the topics of typical conversations. When PCVs come together, no topic under the sun is off-limits. Want to discuss the pros and cons of Ulysses S. Grant’s presidency for two hours? You got it. Care to have a lengthy conversation about the merits of Cardi B’s career? Join us. Desire to engage in a debate about which American city is the most boring? You are welcome. Anytime. Feeling like what you really need right now is a group of people who have all read “Infinite Jest” and can critically analyze every page? You have come to the right place. (Note: These are all conversations I have had while in the Peace Corps, but this is certainly not an exhaustive list.)

In other words, we are all huge nerds.

I don't think Uly or Cardi ever imagined their pictures ever being side by side, but here they are.

While these weird and wonderful aspects of PCV culture are amusing to those who are not deeply entrenched within it, there are other parts by which these same individuals would be discomforted. Let me just start by saying that Peace Corps is a trying experience for PCVs. Over the course of two years, all of us struggle with loneliness, depression, anxiety, harassment, humiliation, and health problems. As a result, PCVs’ mental health is not always 100%, leading many of us to try to cope in unhealthy ways.

One such way is to tear others down to bring one’s self up. There are many ways of doing this. For one, PCVs find themselves in constant competition to see who is “roughing it” more. PCVs’ living situations run from living hours away from other volunteers with no electricity to living in an expat’s house with a washing machine (the latter would be a member of the so-called “Posh Corps.”) Nevertheless, this “game” is an unfortunate one, as it takes away attention from our communities (who should always be the center of attention, as that is why we are here) and showers it on ourselves, all with the aim of putting others down. There is obviously no correlation between the state of a volunteer’s house and the quality of the work they put in. However, many a volunteer likes to shame others for “not being a real volunteer” because they have running water or working cell coverage-- a part of PCV culture that can wear at a PCV’s emotional well-being.

Peace Corps?

Or Posh Corps?

 

This sense of competition also occurs when speaking about early terminations (ETs). A volunteer early terminates when they suffer from a health, safety, or mental health issue that prevents their being able to stay at site and are thus sent back to the States. Every cohort experiences volunteers ETing for a variety of completely valid reasons. However, volunteers remaining in country tend to treat the situation as if ETing constitutes failure. For example, my cohort arrived with 34 volunteers, with four of those volunteers leaving over the course of the year and a half we have been here. We tend to brag that we have such a high number remaining in country, saying we have a “strong group of people” (as most cohorts leave with only half of the number of people they came in with) but this has unhealthy connotations. Treating volunteers who choose to ET as if they are somehow “weaker” or “less of a volunteer” is harmful, as it leaves those who leave feeling like they have failed. More damaging, however, is the harm it does to volunteers who would be better off leaving for various reasons, but choose to remain in country and suffer the physical and emotional effects of doing so because they want to avoid this “weak” label. This results in many turning to “self-medication” just to get by, which is the reason some PCVs engage in unhealthy behaviors like drinking, smoking, or eating too much.

Sadly, such competition is not the only way we PCVs tend to cause emotional harm to each other. Additionally, Peace Corps is known for its gossip culture. If something happens to one person, and that person shares their experience with another PCV to help deal with their emotional state, oftentimes that second PCV shares it with someone else, who shares it to someone else until pretty soon, everyone in Peace Corps knows what happened. This is especially true now that we all have smartphones with which we are involved in different friend groups. Unfortunately, this ends up rendering the victim feeling violated knowing that everyone knows every detail of one of the worst moments of their service but probably knew nothing else about them. As there is no way to “fact check” the information that is passed, false information is oftentimes being spread that can harm innocent volunteers. Additionally, there have been times when PCVs spread false information on purpose to clear their name of wrongdoing or to “get back at” someone who they felt harmed them. This occurred to a good friend of mine, who, just upon beginning her time at site, became the victim of a lie spread by the previous volunteer at her site. The volunteer blamed my friend for reporting the illegal behavior of another volunteer (which eventually sent that person home) on my friend, although she herself had reported the volunteer. This caused many Upper West volunteers, who were close to the volunteer sent home and were confused about what happened, to refuse to talk to my friend. Sadly, she had no idea why no one would talk to her and felt alone until she heard it through the PCV rumor mill! While most examples of PCV gossip culture are not nearly this harmful, it has led to some similar situations that have resulted in all of us getting a firm talking-to during our pre-service trainings.

While I have just shared some very negative aspects of PCV culture with you, please do not jump to the conclusion that Peace Corps only serves to harm one’s mental health. That is far from true. In fact, I have grown positively by being in the Peace Corps, and a lot of that stems from what I learn from other PCVs. Because we are placed in a country that does not have as many amenities as we are used to in the United States, volunteers are always sharing things-- even items we get special in care packages. I have been the beneficiary of such kindness many times, whether it be someone letting me sleep over at their house so I don’t have to pay for a guest house or giving me a piece of chocolate their parents sent from the States. I, in turn, have done the same. This is especially true for me when it comes to sharing housing, since I live in a big city that volunteers in my region stop by all of the time.

PCVs also have a culture of passing things on. When a volunteer leaves, there is an understanding that pretty much everything (except for sentimental things of course) will be left behind for newer volunteers. For example, when I arrived at my school last year, I found that my room was fully stocked with a mattress, books, clothing (although at a slim 4’11” to my stocky 5’9”, the previous volunteer’s clothing items did not fit me very well), silverware and bowls, and even a fridge! I hardly had to purchase anything and that made my transition so much easier. Additionally, volunteers are known to leave things they don’t need or want anymore in the “Free Box” at PC offices, making visits to the office like a trip to the thrift store. I have scored many things this way, from clothes to extra malaria meds to GRE prep books. The biggest gift passed on to me, however, was a ukulele. After a volunteer decided to head back to the States, he decided to leave the instrument at the PC suboffice. A week later, I came upon it during a trip to the office and decided to try teaching myself ukulele. Since then, thanks to the generosity of that volunteer, I have been able to pick up a few chords and can play some songs-- something I’d never been able to do before!

The most wonderful part of PCV culture, however, is the family you become part of when you join. Upper West was known for its “Upper Best family” culture, and I benefited from it in many ways. When I was having a hard time coping at site or having a bad day, I always knew I could text a fellow Upper Bester and they would talk with me until one in the morning if I needed it. If I needed to get out of my site for awhile, I could always go to Prisons Canteen (a local spot) and there would always be at least one PCV hanging out that I could catch up with. Although I had a Peace Corps-designated mentor assigned to me, I knew I could ask any single volunteer for advice and they would willingly help me. These people gave me haircuts, massages, extra mangoes, music, and laughs-- all without expecting anything in return. Even when the older generations “pass on” (really, move back to the States or other countries), the relationships continue: I’ve already gotten a care package from one of my best friends now in Massachusetts and a visit from my mentor, who got a freelance job in Accra after finishing her service. Every few months, returned volunteers schedule hangouts and send us pictures, reminding those of us still in service that, even though we may be in different parts of the world, we will forever be a family.

So, even though PCV culture has its share of negative aspects, I find that the sense of community I have found within it far outweigh those parts. After all, doesn’t each family have its share of ups and downs, problems and supports, frustrations and joys? That’s just what makes a family a family.