2.7.12

I'm Waiting for the Man, David Bowie


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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