Greg Emerson began his Peace Corps journey in Morocco but was evacuated from the country before swearing in, when the US invaded Iraq. Months later, he flew to Peru, where he would spend two years working high in the Andes mountains.
On this Episode:
* Taking on a new name in a new country
* Trying to be the same as the locals, and learning that it would never be possible
* How a foreign Peace Corps volunteer could bring people working in the same community together
Photos from Greg’s Story
Greg’s Peace Corps Story
Where and when did you serve? What did you do?
My Peace Corps service began in Morocco in 2003, where I was sent as an environment volunteer. I was assigned a site on a gazelle reserve near Safi but never got to serve there because the program was suspended when the Iraq war began.
I was reassigned to Peru and served two years as a community health volunteer in the high Andes, living in a Quechua village and spending most of my time on nutrition and general hygiene projects.
What is one of your favorite Peace Corps memories?
I had many positive moments in my Peace Corps service, both in Morocco and Peru, related to the work and to my life outside of development work, but one moment that stands out to me comes from the end of my service in Peru, and the goodbye party that we had when I left.
It wasn’t just a good party – it was a tangible example of how my presence there, I think, bridged some gaps among the locals themselves that otherwise would not have happened.
As the lone foreigner in this mountain valley, everyone was curious about me for different reasons. For the group of mothers in my Quechua villages, I was not quite a child, not quite a partner, not quite an authority figure, but rather a little bit of all of them. For the teachers who came from the nearby city to our school, I was a peer, a fellow outsider. For the health post workers, also from outside of the village, I was a coworker and assistant. For the men and leaders of the village, I was, like them, a trusted and respected elder.
My “despedida” from Collon brought all of these groups together around the same table.
The conversation quickly turned into a discussion of my staying in Collon, taking a local girl as my wife and living out my days in the mountains. When I respectfully declined, it was suggested I marry the nurse from the health post, and once again live out my days in the high Andes. As we ate and drank more, inhibitions dripped away until we were engaged in a frank and hilarious discussion of sex in the village, sex in the city, masturbation and everything in between. These were subjects that rarely came up in plenty of other drunken conversations I had had (certainly not that graphic), and certainly never with such a mixed group as this.
I remember sitting at one end of the table and watching them talk with each other about all these things, laughing in part because of the taboo, but also learning about each other and about how differently they all experienced lust and intimacy. The villagers learned that city people take off all of their clothes to have sex (!), the city folks learned that a knobby potato could double as a sex toy, and they all came away from it with a much more nuanced view of how the other side lives despite the desires they all share.
I am quite sure that that conversation wouldn’t have happened without my presence, and it was humbling to see how, without my actively doing anything, I could facilitate Peruvians of different backgrounds understanding each other more than they had before I arrived.
What is one of your least favorite Peace Corps memories?
Most of the negative experiences I had in Peru have to do with money, and there was one incident about halfway through my service that reminded me that to some people, no matter how much the town accepted me as one of their ...