A lot of what Peace Corps volunteers talk about is possibility and promise. We tend to be unabashedly positive people. However, recently Peace Corps Morocco was forced to acknowledge the negative possibilities that we walk along side throughout the course of our service. A volunteer from one of the southern provinces died unexpectedly on the afternoon of November 17th in a hospital in Marrakech. We can't know the details of her passing due to the strictures of the confidentiality agreement we all sign at the beginning of our service. Despite this the volunteers close to her have put the pieces together and have determined a few illuminating things.
First, we know that she was sick for about a month before being forced to seek medical help. On the morning of the 17th her illness escalated rapidly, resulting in extreme nausea and a blinding headache. She was then taken to a hospital nearby where they determined that they could do nothing to help her. Afterwards they transferred her to the larger hospital in Marrakech where she died late in the afternoon with a Peace Corps medical officer by her side.
She was twenty three years old. She was a member of my Peace Corps family, and though I only met her once I feel her loss keenly. We volunteers, especially those of us far from Rabat and the well served Northern provinces; often feel that we are our first and best support network. We are a family. To lose one of our own unexpectedly in this way can be devastating even to those who aren't close.
Last Saturday, as of the writing of this post, less than a week after her death; her friends, her Peace Corps family, gathered in Rabat to pay homage to her life with us and the loss we all feel. I went, personally, because many of my friends were very close with her and I felt it was important to support them. The memorial service took place in the Peace Corps compound on a beautiful sunny morning. I remember being able to smell the sea that morning as a fresh breeze came in off the Atlantic. As if the earth itself was trying to fill the void we all felt as her body winged toward the other side of the sea.
Her friends stood in front of us to share the ways that their sister had affected their lives. Her program staff stood up to say a few words about the work she had done and the lives she had touched. The Peace Corps librarian stood up to tell us about his relationship to her, she was a particularly widely read PCV, and during his speech something happened that sticks in my mind. He said, choking through tears, that he was sorry she had to die in his country.
Now, almost five days later I can't let go of that moment in my mind. She had to die here. Why did he phrase it like that? Africa, the continent that probably birthed humankind has probably drunk more blood than any other place on earth. That is part of why we are here, because so much of that blood has been shed by innocents and bystanders in seemingly unending conflict. Some places are so soaked in human blood that the locals claim it has turned the soil red. Why? To what end have all of these lights been extinguished before their time? Is it really necessary? These are, of course, questions that we are largely unable to answer.
In this instance I can answer this question, at least partially. My sister, my friend, sold her life dearly. She opened up beautiful possibilities in the lives of both her fellow volunteers and the children she worked with in her site. She was teaching some of the kids in her youth house German. No other volunteer has done, or probably will do, that. She forced the shyest volunteer I know to share her life story in a way that made her want to do it. She brought art and life to people for whom pessimism, cynicism, and perhaps even despair were standard operating procedure. She pushed and pushed and pushed her friends and colleagues to focus on what could be and not what is. She was relentless. I met her once and instantly liked her. Was all this worth her life? Who can say, the knee-jerk reaction is always no to that question. It's inappropriate to react otherwise, especially to the loss of someone who is so young; someone whose life had only just begun.
However, the cold reality of the situation is this; it's something that all Peace Corps Volunteers have to live with. We are living in a place, no matter what country we get posted to, that could take our life. We have come specifically because there aren't the services and support infrastructure that exist in the states. The odds of something like this happening are fairly low, but it does happen. I've heard that the life expectancy of a PCV is ten years lower than the national average in the US. I don't know if that's statistically accurate or not, but the principle holds for every single PCV I've met. We are people who value the quality of our lives over the number of years we live it. We push ourselves outside of what is comfortable and familiar, some of us do so recklessly. Maybe this is difficult for our loved ones to confront when stated so plainly, but it is an enduring fact. We are here giving it our best despite circumstance every day. We are here living our ideals. We are here for you, for each other, and for the dream that JFK stated so plainly when he sold his bold plan to congress. Look up the speech, it's beautiful. We are here, and here we will stay, each taking his or her turn, until we are no longer needed. We are here until that happy day when the dream of peace and equality for all is realized.
This is why my sister, my friend, had to die. This is the price of that dream sometimes. So if you share that dream I urge you to pay homage to the loss of a young and bright life by putting your money where your mouth is. Go out and volunteer somewhere. Go give comfort to those who suffer. They are everywhere. If you truly regret her death then help us end the need. Help us make the world a better place for everyone who lives now and even those who do not yet draw breath. It's easy. It's necessary. You can do it now. Don't wait till tomorrow, or until after your hair appointment or until your rent check clears. Don't wait till someone in your life is suffering to see that the need is everywhere. Go. Help. Do it now. Thank you.
Thanks for articulating what I could not.
ReplyDelete::hugs::