Corps values: Volunteers share their experiences in foreign countries that broadened their world perspectives

Roberta Malmgren had never taught a class and held no teaching credentials when she stood before her first group of students in Tanzania.

With only a bachelor’s degree, Malmgren joined the Peace Corps’ first teaching group in 1963, where she prepared seventh- and eighth- grade students for their school’s exit exam.
“I went there for idealistic reasons; I wanted to accomplish something that matters,” she said.

Now a professor of epidemiology at the School of Public Health, Malmgren said the experience altered the way she saw the world and gave her confidence to approach new projects and challenges.

“You still think about how you can match that experience,” she said. “I don’t think you ever can.”

Malmgren’s decision was common among young college graduates who joined the Peace Corps in the 1960s and 1970s in response to President John F. Kennedy’s call for volunteers. Since then, tens of thousands have followed suit, hitting a pause button on their schooling and careers to take on a new life in a foreign country.

Culture shock

Although every Peace Corps volunteer went through months of training before beginning service, each faced some shock upon arrival, said Anne Rimoin, an assistant epidemiology professor at the School of Public Health. Isolated in different parts of the world, many found difficulty connecting and communicating in spite of language and skills training.

When Ashley Kissinger arrived in Guatemala, no one in the community had seen blue eyes before.

“They knew I was an outsider who didn’t speak Spanish well,” said Kissinger, a master’s of public health student who ran a preventative health program in Guatemala from 2008 to 2010. “People ran away from me my first couple months there; they had never seen a woman wear pants before.”

In her village, Kissinger spent every other day in a small clinic, teaching preventative health measures to local women. Often, she said she heard villagers talk in hushed tones, wondering why she had settled down among them.

The feeling of being alone and disconnected affected her more than any physical obstacle there, Kissinger said. She was the only volunteer in the community; the nearest lived two hours away.

“I didn’t have electricity or hot water or even water ““ I could only carry one bucket’s worth ““ but my body was going into survival mode,” Kissinger said. “The hardest was being so alone. When you go home, you want to tell your friends and family about your day, and now, when you’re home, you’re just alone.”

Kissinger said she remembered talking to her father nine months into her service. Disappointed with her lack of ability to communicate and understand the villagers, she sought his advice.

“He told me “˜You’re in it to win it, or you come home,'” she said.

“Once I knew of the option of going home, I said I was going to stay.”

Over time, locals learned that Kissinger truly cared to improve their living situations. They began addressing her as “loved one,” and each morning, she would wake up to a dozen thankful visitors at her door.

Blossoming friendships

Malmgren, too, said she found difficulties adjusting to the culture of Tanzania. As a teacher, she was expected to discipline students through corporal punishment.

“We had to take a stick and slap (students) behind the legs and the arms,” she said. “As an American, I was shocked. My switches on the hands were pretty mild, but I feel like there was an improvement in discipline.”

As she grew more accustomed to the culture, Malmgren said she was able to develop strong relationships with prefects, students elected to discipline their classmates.

“I would invite a lot of them to my house, and on weekends they would come over for tutoring and for tea and cake and sweets,” Malmgren said. “We would chat, and there were students I got to know quite well.”

Malmgren said she especially won the trust of a prefect named Clement, who eventually began calling her “mother,” even though she was only five years older than he was.

The friendships lasted even after Malmgren returned to the United States. She and her students continued to exchange letters for five years, but eventually lost touch because most did not have permanent addresses.

Coming home

Eight months after she returned from Guatemala, Kissinger said she is still readjusting to life in the United States.

She enrolled in the UCLA School of Public Health in September, but has found herself distracted from her studies, her mind still thousands of miles away.

“My first day, I was walking around school with a backpack on my front, the way people did in a bus station in Guatemala,” Kissinger said. “When you’ve been in the Peace Corps, you have those days when you’re (in awe) of walls and with electricity. But when I saw a huge portrait of Guatemala in the medical cafe, I thought, “˜I’m OK now.'”

Kissinger met Malmgren shortly after she began her graduate studies. Although decades separate their Peace Corps experiences, Malmgren said former volunteers take on a similar world view after their service.
“I run into volunteers when they’re right out, and they’re one-third my age, but we have the same view and perspective ““ you feel just the same,” Malmgren said.

Kissinger’s two years in Guatemala altered her perception of everyday life. Sometimes, she said she still catches herself reacting to her surroundings the way a Guatemalan native would.

“It took me five times to try to make coffee; I just couldn’t remember,” she said.

The feeling of straddling two worlds is something all Peace Corps veterans share, said Malmgren, who took nine months to readjust. Kissinger, who returned to the U.S. in July, said she still finds herself in the transition process.

“(Everything) is so familiar, but so strange at the same time.”