As I near having lived in Huantar for three months (!) I’ve
begun the series of interviews I will use to provide the data for my community
diagnostic.* Being a health volunteer, I
ask health-related questions: Do you wash your hands? Does your bathroom smell
(first, do you have a bathroom)? Does your child’s anus itch? You can see how
there’s room for awkwardness.
During my first interviews I probably asked about half of
the questions. I just did not feel
comfortable asking them all. By
interview six though I had lost all verguenza.
That’s right, I want to see that hot water container, I’m not taking
your word for it that you have one. You
say your child has all their vaccinations?
Show me their tarjeta de CRED. SHOW
ME THE BATHROOM. In other words, I meant business.
That said, while I did direct the flow of the
interview/conversation, I let the mothers I was interviewing say all they had
to say on the subject. My comprehension
was probably at about 70%, but my listening ears were on 100%. One of the women I interviewed was a
talker. We had a ten-minute conversation
about how she was willing to raise her husband’s daughter from another woman. Eventually we got into the meat of the
interview. Every question brought a
backstory. When we got to the questions
about breast-feeding, the dams broke. I
don’t know if it was because she knew that she had the attention of someone who
didn’t interrupt, or if it wouldn’t happened whether I was there or not, but
after telling me about her inability to breastfeed her second child, she burst
into tears, letting out all her life’s woes.
I won’t go into the individual details; suffice it to say
that she is poor, she thinks everyone in Huantar hates her because she’s from a
different town originally (I think was more of a heat of the moment thing cause
she seemed to be happily hanging out with people during Carnaval), and there
are days when she feels like throwing herself in the river.
Woof.
The health post worker I was with, kept mouthing, “We should
leave.” So that was helpful. In the end, I gave her a hug, said that I was
here in Huantar to try to help (though I’m not sure how much attending talks
about childhood nutrition will help her), and that we would talk later.
One of the things that I, and most other volunteers, are
confronted with is both the vast disparities between our own circumstances and
the circumstances of those we live with, as well as the limitations to what we
reasonably expect of ourselves. How to
walk the line between insensitivity and taking care of yourself, between greed
and generosity.
None of my interviews since have been so exciting, or so
exhausting. I’ll admit I’m thankful for
that. And hopefully, when I leave Huantar in 21 months or so, I’ll feel good
about the line I walked.
March 10th update: I greeted someone in the
street today and she started to tear up after I asked her name (she’s recently
a widow, I think I gathered). Maybe I
just have one of those faces.
* Community Diagnostic—a summary of the state of your
site. I believe it’s intended as a means
for volunteers to prove that they are needed in their community but it ends up
being more like bureaucratic bullshit.**
**Very worthwhile, necessary, and well-thought out bureaucratic
bullshit, she quickly amended.
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