The Meaning of Work

The Meaning of Work

I think it is well known that being Peace Corps volunteers is a very different type of work. It's a far cry from a 9 to 5 office job in front of a computer. Even back in the PC interview stages I was asked how I would deal with such a different work environment in which I must make my deadlines, projects, goals, even work hours instead of these things being delegated by a boss or office rules. I admitted it would be a different way of life compared to my agenda, list-making, schedule obsessed daily routine back in Albuquerque, New Mexico where I went from being an avid university student to a paralegal in a law office. Yes, it will be challenging I remember saying. And here I am waking up to daily chicken screeches wandering if a scheduled meeting will actually take place later in the afternoon and hoping that girls mejenga I've been planning for weeks will actually have more than 4 people in attendance. That's life in my rural Costa Rican town of 156 people. Not only is there a totally different attitude about scheduled group events, but there are just not that many people. I've begun to get this through my thick skull and shrug it off when things don't pan out according to plan.

But here's the thing about work I really want to emphasize; here in rural Costa Rica work is physical labor. Period. Work for men is agricultural; planting cultivating, growing, chopping and clearing plant-life, using machetes, shovels, bare hands and raw muscle. For women it's scrubbing, mopping, sweeping, raking, washing, using amazing arm strength and a seemingly unlimited reserve of energy. After watching my host mother beat the crap out of clothes in the pila on a daily basis, I'm pretty sure she could take me in an arm wrestling competition.

I certainly respect this physical labor that signifies my community and probably many other rural Costa Rican communities. The problem that I have met is their lack of respect, and more importantly lack of knowledge when it comes to labor or work that is not physical. What about intellectual labor? Planning, organizing, writing, calculating, and even just thinking. I appreciate a good physical job where it is totally unnecessary to engage the brain and your body goes into robot mode as you allow your muscles to engage in a continuous pattern. And I definitely take every opportunity to participate in physical labor when the community needs me. But I also consider myself an intellectual. I like to read, I like to write, I like to learn and challenge myself with new ideas. It seems it shouldn't be an issue to continue with that facet of my personality in a new place, but I have met with some challenges.

After a super long and unproductive meeting about a new aqueduct system one day, my counterpart asked if I had a minute to talk. Sure, I said in my chipper PCV voice that I use to hide my discouragement about seemingly impossible projects like a new aqueduct system. After a nervous sigh he told me that several members of the community had approached him with complaints about me. These complaints in general were that I am a vaga volunteer, lazy, I don't like to work, and I generally just sit in my room listening to music. Wow, that was a bombshell. I was totally taken aback with surprise. There was absolutely no one in the community I could think of that I did not have at least a friendly relationship with. And I couldn't imagine anyone saying these things about me to my local counterpart. This is a whole other topic of course; the indirect culture of Ticos in which they give you one incredibly supportive and friendly face and then rear a totally different one to others on the chisme train. I mean, come on, if you think I'm not doing crap, approach me an tell me what you think this community needs, what you want to see change, what projects are important to you. I'm not Jesus, but I will always give a listening ear and always see if there is anything I can do. But no, instead I have be slapped in the face with these shocking words spoken from the mouth of my poor counterpart who tell me he's sorry and that he doesn't agree, and that he thinks I'm doing a great job teaching English, organizing mejengas, aerobics, attending all the committee meetings, etc etc. And in my heart I know I'm doing the best I can, but it doesn't soften the sting of resentment and that lurking feeling of unwarranted betrayal.

After much thought on this topic as well as discussion with other community members, volunteers, and friends and family back home, I have realized that differing conceptions of meaning of work is the culprit to this misunderstanding. They see me in my room, on my computer, a book in my lap, or a pen and paper in front me, and they think I'm just hanging out, passing some down town before the “real work”. And yes, I have my music on a lot, I certainly won't lie about that, but I also don't feel like defending my personal choice to “work” while listening to music. You know what I'm doing while I'm on my computer? Organizing English class lesson plans. You know what I am reading in that book on my lap? Possible funding options for your new and ridiculously expensive aqueduct. But the perception is different. The majority of my community did not attend school past the 6th grade and their lives are defined by physical labor. When they don't see sweat dripping off my brow or some tool in my hand, the significance is that I am lazy. They don't realize how much time and brain power is necessary to accomplish the non-physical goals of this community that they themselves have articulated to me.

Hopefully as time passes I can prove the benefits of this type work through real accomplishments and projects, or simply by introducing to people the beauty of newly acquired knowledge. And in doing this, I hope to better my personal image here as a Peace Corps volunteer.