Status on Peace Corps - October 17th, 2011
Thanks to those who send their encouragement as we await Peace Corps placement. This is an update of that process.
What's happened since the last post
At the most practical level, nothing has transpired: We still are awaiting for a placement.
But behind the scenes there has been activity at the DC headquarters, so our hopes have not been dashed, and we're still getting encouragement (from you and from PC).
Since our last posting we've sent emails to our placement person at PC. The temptation, at this juncture, is the tap our foot with our hands on our hips and chide her with questions like "What's taking so long? ! ?." In fact, many of our local friends roll their eyes at the delays.
But we have cordially requested explanations, and then when the answers we received didn't exactly match what we understood to be happening, we dug deeper (and deeper) to try to figure out what went awry.
For instance, last time around (when they were placing couples) they submitted our portfolios to a number of programs in North Africa. But there was something in our medical profiles that wasn't accurate. In my case, it was a very slight allergy to certain kinds of sea foods. In Judith's case, it was a limitation in the weight she could lift (nothing over 25 pounds). As a result, (we believe) the portfolios were returned with a rejection for placement by these programs.
But the placement officer had no visibility into why we were rejected, other than a sort of blanket "because of medical restrictions." She had no visibility, even, of what was in our medical portfolios. And of course, because we also have no visibility into their records, we were really at the mercy of whatever the medical sector of PC had written about us.
So we went back to the PC evaluation nurse, got her on the phone, and "cordially" argued that there was something amiss.
Poor Nurse! We've spent so many phone calls with her, trying to get past the obstacles that she saw in our medical evaluations. But, because we were pleasant - but persistent and insistent - she had begun to listen to us. We'd overcome a number of these obstacles in the past, and each time she seemed just at thrilled as we were that our health "on paper" seemed to be "improving". So, this time, she said point-blank, that probably the reason our portfolios were being rejected by the programs was NOT my wife's restrictions, but my incredibly minor food allergy to certain shellfish.
So, the long and the short of it is that I had to explain to her that I never died from this allergy, but merely had the usual problems people do when they eat something that their body doesn't like. And since, in Cambodia and Laos, I've eaten things that Poor Nurse would probably not even consider as food (frogs, red ants, crickets, snakes, pre-historic-looking bar fish that stared at me with jaws filled with a mouth full of sharp teeth, etc.) and suffered only from the usual maladies of "bodia-belly" and other lower intestinal parasites, I actually laughed over the phone at her deep and sincere concern. And I realized that absolute honesty on the medical evaluation forms is unquestionably a hazard if one really wants to go into PC.
Fortunately, Poor (lovely) Nurse said "Oh! Well, I'll remove that restriction from your records!"
Wow! I felt like Kafka, in "The Castle", getting permission to move into the next waiting room. A victory! "I really am NOT a crippled, decrepit, lunatic with grandiose dreams of serving in Peace Corps. I'm just a healthy world traveler with something to offer!"
So Lovely (but previously misunderstanding) Nurse then went down through our entire medical records and said she would consider removing all restrictions. It was like listening to a recalcitrant J. Edgar Hoover suddenly turning into Bobby Kennedy over the phone.
And I realized that she must have the most thankless job in Washington, DC: A job of rejecting hundreds (thousands?) of people who sincerely want to serve, but are not physically up to the challenge. Her voice softened over the phone. Her affect of "sympathetic sternness" shifted in key, and it actually seemed as though she were thrilled to "white out" those restrictions. A thankless job, being Nurse. How many arguments has she gotten into over the phone? How many people has she had to disappoint over her years as PC Nurse? How many people have hung up on her "Bang!" after they lost their appeals? What a thankless job!
So I said, in my most sincere voice, with a light ironic laugh, "Thankyou! I really appreciate your special effort on our behalf."
And she said, quite simply, "You're very welcome. I KNOW they want to place you. You had a placement, but the program got canceled. I KNOW they are trying to figure it out. You have real skills that can be useful!"
Wow! THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU I was thinking.
Kafka, eat your hear out!
So we hung up the phone. And waited. And waited. And waited.
Then last month, as we were returning from a trip from Colorado, in the waiting area between flights, I got a brief email on my cell phone from the placement officer. A couple who had been assigned to Central Asia had suddenly dropped out of placement. "Would you be interested? You'd leave in January or February! Can't guarantee anything. Have to send them your records. What do you think?"
Would we be interested? WOULD WE BE INTERESTED? I immediately key-in "Yes! Fingers Crossed! Hope to hear from you soon!" And then Judith and I sat in our cramped airline seats, hoping the answer would be "Go!" and what we would Skype to our daughter in Cambodia who is returning home in November "You'll have the whole house to yourself!" And trying to remember which "stan" is in Central Asia where the Peace Corps has projects. And trying to keep our enthusiasm under control.
A couple of days passed. The email was received. "No! For medical reasons!"
Whose medical reasons? What happened? Why - if our medical portfolios have been purged of restrictions - have our portfolios been rejected? The placement officer could not tell us. But, she said, the next round of placements will begin in Jan.
So that's where we are now. We've made progress! But only to the next room within the Castle.
Are we disappointed? Yes! We never thought that trying to get into Peace Corps would be a career path, but here we are.
Are we discouraged?
No! This is not a whim for us. This is a very strong desire for both of us. A kind of calling. And maybe with some added fortitude we'll make it yet.
Besides, maybe it's time to talk to my congressman again.
What's happened since the last post
At the most practical level, nothing has transpired: We still are awaiting for a placement.
But behind the scenes there has been activity at the DC headquarters, so our hopes have not been dashed, and we're still getting encouragement (from you and from PC).
Since our last posting we've sent emails to our placement person at PC. The temptation, at this juncture, is the tap our foot with our hands on our hips and chide her with questions like "What's taking so long? ! ?." In fact, many of our local friends roll their eyes at the delays.
But we have cordially requested explanations, and then when the answers we received didn't exactly match what we understood to be happening, we dug deeper (and deeper) to try to figure out what went awry.
For instance, last time around (when they were placing couples) they submitted our portfolios to a number of programs in North Africa. But there was something in our medical profiles that wasn't accurate. In my case, it was a very slight allergy to certain kinds of sea foods. In Judith's case, it was a limitation in the weight she could lift (nothing over 25 pounds). As a result, (we believe) the portfolios were returned with a rejection for placement by these programs.
But the placement officer had no visibility into why we were rejected, other than a sort of blanket "because of medical restrictions." She had no visibility, even, of what was in our medical portfolios. And of course, because we also have no visibility into their records, we were really at the mercy of whatever the medical sector of PC had written about us.
So we went back to the PC evaluation nurse, got her on the phone, and "cordially" argued that there was something amiss.
Poor Nurse! We've spent so many phone calls with her, trying to get past the obstacles that she saw in our medical evaluations. But, because we were pleasant - but persistent and insistent - she had begun to listen to us. We'd overcome a number of these obstacles in the past, and each time she seemed just at thrilled as we were that our health "on paper" seemed to be "improving". So, this time, she said point-blank, that probably the reason our portfolios were being rejected by the programs was NOT my wife's restrictions, but my incredibly minor food allergy to certain shellfish.
So, the long and the short of it is that I had to explain to her that I never died from this allergy, but merely had the usual problems people do when they eat something that their body doesn't like. And since, in Cambodia and Laos, I've eaten things that Poor Nurse would probably not even consider as food (frogs, red ants, crickets, snakes, pre-historic-looking bar fish that stared at me with jaws filled with a mouth full of sharp teeth, etc.) and suffered only from the usual maladies of "bodia-belly" and other lower intestinal parasites, I actually laughed over the phone at her deep and sincere concern. And I realized that absolute honesty on the medical evaluation forms is unquestionably a hazard if one really wants to go into PC.
Fortunately, Poor (lovely) Nurse said "Oh! Well, I'll remove that restriction from your records!"
Wow! I felt like Kafka, in "The Castle", getting permission to move into the next waiting room. A victory! "I really am NOT a crippled, decrepit, lunatic with grandiose dreams of serving in Peace Corps. I'm just a healthy world traveler with something to offer!"
So Lovely (but previously misunderstanding) Nurse then went down through our entire medical records and said she would consider removing all restrictions. It was like listening to a recalcitrant J. Edgar Hoover suddenly turning into Bobby Kennedy over the phone.
And I realized that she must have the most thankless job in Washington, DC: A job of rejecting hundreds (thousands?) of people who sincerely want to serve, but are not physically up to the challenge. Her voice softened over the phone. Her affect of "sympathetic sternness" shifted in key, and it actually seemed as though she were thrilled to "white out" those restrictions. A thankless job, being Nurse. How many arguments has she gotten into over the phone? How many people has she had to disappoint over her years as PC Nurse? How many people have hung up on her "Bang!" after they lost their appeals? What a thankless job!
So I said, in my most sincere voice, with a light ironic laugh, "Thankyou! I really appreciate your special effort on our behalf."
And she said, quite simply, "You're very welcome. I KNOW they want to place you. You had a placement, but the program got canceled. I KNOW they are trying to figure it out. You have real skills that can be useful!"
Wow! THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU I was thinking.
Kafka, eat your hear out!
So we hung up the phone. And waited. And waited. And waited.
Then last month, as we were returning from a trip from Colorado, in the waiting area between flights, I got a brief email on my cell phone from the placement officer. A couple who had been assigned to Central Asia had suddenly dropped out of placement. "Would you be interested? You'd leave in January or February! Can't guarantee anything. Have to send them your records. What do you think?"
Would we be interested? WOULD WE BE INTERESTED? I immediately key-in "Yes! Fingers Crossed! Hope to hear from you soon!" And then Judith and I sat in our cramped airline seats, hoping the answer would be "Go!" and what we would Skype to our daughter in Cambodia who is returning home in November "You'll have the whole house to yourself!" And trying to remember which "stan" is in Central Asia where the Peace Corps has projects. And trying to keep our enthusiasm under control.
A couple of days passed. The email was received. "No! For medical reasons!"
Whose medical reasons? What happened? Why - if our medical portfolios have been purged of restrictions - have our portfolios been rejected? The placement officer could not tell us. But, she said, the next round of placements will begin in Jan.
So that's where we are now. We've made progress! But only to the next room within the Castle.
Are we disappointed? Yes! We never thought that trying to get into Peace Corps would be a career path, but here we are.
Are we discouraged?
No! This is not a whim for us. This is a very strong desire for both of us. A kind of calling. And maybe with some added fortitude we'll make it yet.
Besides, maybe it's time to talk to my congressman again.
