During training, we were constantly told to remind our
counterparts, agencies and other organizations and individuals we would work
with about meetings. Give a set
time from the start, don’t change it.
Remind groups daily, for at least a week. And prepare for people not to show up.
On June 15, my associate Peace Corps director, the one in
charge of my sector in my country, arrived to the island prepared for a meeting
between the ecotourism group I was primarily working with, the environmental
agency acting as rangers for the protected area, and any others who wished to
show up to address environmental issues.
Since the end of May, I planned this meeting. Where it would be, who I wanted to invite. I obsessed over the details, over-thinking
things as usual. Finally, the week
arrived, and I began finalizing the details.
Monday, I went to each group, reminding them of the
meeting. Everyone answered with
the affirmative. They would be
there, they were excited, and they couldn’t wait to see what food I would
bring. (It’s custom to bring an
incentive in the form of food to meetings.) Every day the next week, they all said they would be
there. Until Thursday, the day
before, when ANAM revealed – after initially saying yes, we will be there,
again – that the majority would be in Las Tablas, with the regional office,
partaking in a party for father’s day.
My jaw literally dropped. A
party?
“You’ve been telling me for two weeks that you would be
there. That it was important for
ANAM to meet with the Ecotourism group and Peace Corps. My boss is coming here expecting to
meet with you and the office, and you won’t be here?” I was more than upset.
“It’s required,” was all they responded with. A lie told to appease me. Little did they know I would contact
the regional office.
“Oh no, it’s not required. It’s just an opportunity for us to show our appreciation for
the fathers in our country. The
meeting with Peace Corps should be more important.”
As I explained the situation to my boss, I walked to the
school. We had another meeting
scheduled there, before the teachers would leave for the weekend. Each one was packing up to leave. I quickly found the director. “What’s going on?”
“Ana, we’re so sorry.
Meduca told us yesterday about a seminar we have to be at.” That’s an excuse I could believe. The educational authority is notorious
for this type of behavior.
Surprise, last minute seminars that often go on all week, leaving students
without a teacher, without a class and without education. Even the teachers dislike the
organization of their agency.
Finally, my boss showed up on Friday. We walked around the island, looked at
my renting house, approved it, and talked. I voiced my frustrations with ANAM to him, and he seemed
unsurprised. He asked all the
right questions: “Do they respect you as a professional? Do they listen to your ideas? Are they interested in working with
you?” No, they humor me and they
want me to do their job for them.
Finally, the hour rolled around for the meeting. My official counterpart was in the
hospital, half of his group was out of town, in school. He stepped out briefly for the meeting,
but we decided quickly – this won’t work.
The two youths with ideas were not there, and ANAM left two, who openly
said they were only there because they could not fit in the transport. My boss and I openly gave them one last
chance – be there on June 30, or we will not work with you.
Community Analysis, take two.
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