A letter to a new VSO volunteer Pt.2

You can find part one here.  (Part one covered the practical stuff – this is the touchy feely bit).

Dear new VSO volunteer,

In my two VSO posts I feel like I have witnessed the highest highs and the lowest lows of volunteer life.

The highest…hitching a lift on the back of a motorbike in Hanoi, following the ridiculous urge to hold my arms out, arching my back and letting the smell of autumn blossom fill my lungs.

The smell somehow further boosting my euphoria.

Whizzing around Hanoi was often when I felt happiest. I could see it all fly by me – the markets, the chaos, the colour, the people.

I could further remove myself from it and see me – right in the middle of it all – on that bike. Living a life that after a dozen years in an office, I really thought belonged to other people.

To be able to have that thought – this is me doing this. Me.

In no time you’re no longer the newbie. New volunteers arrive and you’re showing them how to get around, how to haggle, where to eat, where to buy what you need.

And the “this is me”, never far away.

I suspect most people like me had a life plan already mapped out – it’s not something we made a conscious decision to do, but school, work, marriage retirement, all in the one country, was what we expected.

Those people who did volunteer work overseas were the stuff of local papers. Local boy in Asia.

The word I use most is “lucky”. I seemed lucky. Lucky because the existence of VSO meant I could be there and hopefully I could help. Heartbreakingly lucky because I had been born somewhere affluent and developed and I’d never have to deal with the problems that the kids I worked with had. I even felt lucky to feel lucky – if I hadn’t seen this for myself then I might have known just how blessed my life is.

And the lows – in both Vietnam and Cameroon it’s hard watching the efforts of local people being undermined by corruption.

It’s hard to witness the rights that we take for granted not being there without money to grease the wheels.

In Hanoi I never wanted for a social life. It was a double edged though – I also felt suffocated by that expat village. I also felt uneasy with the walled-compound and SUV crowd when I worked during the day with people who had so little.

But even in Hanoi it was still easy to feel lonely at times. It took me a while to recognise it but not having easy access to “home” can be harder to deal with than you think. On the occasions when life was tough it was hard to escape. It was hard sometimes just to find support and reassurance.

Cameroon, in that respect, is harder still. Ten hours to the nearest airport – only a handful of other volunteers in town – it’s hard not to feel that the rest of the world is a long way away.

I’ve had evenings that have gone on forever. I’ve had hours where I’ve willed my phone to bleep. I’ve switched on my laptop and been genuinely depressed to find no emails and nobody online.

Other times the electricity has been off from the time I woke up on a Sunday and the day has unfolded in front of me with seemingly nothing and no one to fill it. Boredom and loneliness together are the worst.

But, as with Vietnam, I never stopped feeling lucky. Even lucky that I had this experience – even if it hasn’t all been positive. Lucky that, as hard as it gets here, it will make future plans and future experiences seem so much easier.

Lucky that I have seen for myself , in a very small way, how people live in one of the poorest countries in the world. Lucky that I’ve met people for whom this isn’t context or an experience – this is life and they are coping with it the best they can.

VSO as a rites of passage? Absolutely.

I strongly believe that if you can do it – then you should.

Good luck.

A letter to a new VSO volunteer Pt.1

(Prompted by a spate of emails from new VSO volunteers)

Dear new VSO volunteer,

So, you’re doing VSO. Nice. You won’t regret it.

Or at least, by the end, you won’t regret it. I am yet to meet anyone who does. Sure we all bitch, moan and rant at times but remember this – we could all go home right now if we wanted to. We don’t.

So let’s get those standard questions out of the way.

The money – it’s enough to get by on but if you want a little luxury then you may have to find a little extra. But to put it in context – I don’t think I prepared a single meal for myself in my first year in Hanoi. Imagine the cost of eating out that often back home.

The next question is the house, right? Okay I’m pretty certain it won’t be a mud hut. I know that’s what you were thinking.

I’ve lived in three VSO homes – a lovely French-style villa in the burbs that I shared with three other volunteers in Hanoi. Later, on the same posting, I got a basic but beautifully located studio style flat.

Here in Bamenda I’ve a brand new spacious home on a quiet road. I even have rooms for guests.

You want to know about the toilet don’t you? Yes I have one. Actually I have two. It flushes – just so long as the water is on. Most of the time it is. I am sure there are volunteers out there that use a latrine but the majority have a very adequate WC.

Then again when we’re on the road, or in the field, things can get a little less sanitary – but you adjust.

Going back to your volunteer home you can expect to have basic furniture, a bed, cooking utensils – or you’ll be given a small grant to purchase your own. A fridge is the norm too – as is whatever cooling apparatus is needed to make your life bearable whatever the heat.

Okay so we’re not talking Embassy style living here – VSO stops short of an SUV, a driver, cook and maid. Just so you know.

The work hours? It varies but it’s likely to be roughly equal to what you do back home. Most volunteers work office hours, take weekends off and enjoy three or four weeks holiday a year. Some even more.

Your very next question is bugs isn’t it? Yes, if you’re going somewhere tropical there is bugs. The good news is I am yet to meet anyone who hasn’t got used to them. Living with them, avoiding them where possible and occasionally killing them becomes second nature. Honestly.

And yes healthcare is provided too. Minor ailments can be treated locally or, if not, they’ll transport you somewhere that can help you.

Food ? Good question. Some people take to local food – some people don’t. Me I tire of limited local choices pretty quick but I’m yet to live anywhere that doesn’t sell fresh fruit and veg by the tonne in the local market.

You can always cook your own food. It’ll be fresh if nothing else. You might want to bring some dried herbs with you though – just for livening things up. Or maybe even some seeds. I’d pay good money for coriander seeds right now.

Meat’s another issue – you want flies with that? Seriously – you get used to cooking it a while and you stop worrying.

The work? Exasperating and rewarding in randon measures. It can drive you mad or it can be a source of euphoria never previously known without chemical assistance.

Ooh something else –  there’s a small box to fill out that says something along the lines of “What can’t you live without and what would you not like to be considered for?”

It’s a very important box.

Be honest with yourself. Me? I don’t do isolation posts. Village life isn’t for me – although I understand that many volunteers love it and wouldn’t have it any other way. Each to their own.

I also, as you might have guessed, require internet. I can only remove myself from the world so much.

Then there’s the blogging. I’d blog if I were you. Very therapeutic and it saves poor VSO staff from listening to my whinging. It also gives friends back home something to read in their lunch hours at work and you can enjoy being the focus of their envy.

What should you bring?

All the obvious items and a plan for entertaining yourself – you might have to do that a lot.

Depending on where you end up, you might spend a lot of time on your own. The iPod, the books, the downloaded movies – all good. Listening to podcasts in the dark keeps me sane when the power goes again.

Next I’m taking it a step further – I’m visiting home at Easter and I’m bringing back a Wii Fit. Hey it’s that or watching badly copied Jet Lee movies. What would you go for?

Give me time and I’ll post a part two. It’ll be less practical and much more of the touchy feely stuff.

However, all you need to know at this point – beyond what I’ve just typed – is that you’ve made the right choice.

But if you’ve any more questions then feel free to ask.

Good luck.