Jumanji

I’ve always loved playing board games, and as a child, Jumanji was one of my favorites. “Every month at the quarter moon, there’ll be a monsoon, in your lagoon,” one of the cards read. In my youth I likely misunderstood “monsoon” as meaning a big flood in your living room, but now there’s no doubt about it. Monsoon means rain, and lots of it. Unprepared for today’s torrential downpour and not wanting to wait until after dark to go home, I hopped on my bike and braved the journey down National Highway 4.

With wind in my face, water soaking through my pants and shirt, and bike skipping out of gear, I weaved my way through the tangle of motos, cows, and factory workers returning from a day of monotonous needlework. For some reason, the time I feel most like a real Peace Corps volunteer is when I’m trekking through unfavorable conditions on my bike. As I rode along, I pondered why I feel that way.

 Some volunteers bemoan their “posh” living conditions of western toilets and stone houses. Indeed, many of us thought we would be worse off, more like jungle scavengers or hunter-gatherers than professional English teachers or community health educators. Amongst volunteers and international aid workers there sometimes seems to be a “no pain, no gain” mentality, a sense that there is somehow a positive correlation between our physical and emotional discomfort and our ability to help those around us. While Peace Corps’ Core Expectation #3 compels volunteers to “serve where the Peace Corps asks…, under conditions of hardship, if necessary,” the last two words are often left unstressed.

When we volunteer or give of ourselves, we want to feel like we are involved, like we are sacrificing or really doing something. It is this very sentiment that is currently affecting Cambodia’s orphanages where the presence of numerous well-intentioned volunteers only further disrupts the already fragile stability which at-risk children so desperately need. In many cases, it would be far better if instead of buying a plane ticket and flying in to “help” for a week, volunteers simply wrote a check for the amount they would have spent on travel and sent it to the staff who knows best how to manage the orphanage’s resources to benefit the children. Of course, corruption is of great concern, but careful research and follow-up should mitigate some of that risk.

The reality is that I’m doing my best as a volunteer when I’m in my classroom demonstrating new teaching methodologies, chatting with a bicycle repairman about democracy, or learning about Buddhist traditions at the local pagoda with my host family, not when I’m battling amoebic dysentery or slogging through the wet and mud of monsoon season. Hardship is not a requisite for helping others, although sometimes it is necessary to reach some of the most disadvantaged. We can do good in the world while still taking care of ourselves and feeling comfortable. Let altruism be enjoyable, and take delight in your unique service to others.