My mother used to tell me, “Lower your expectations and you’ll never be disappointed.”
With that in mind, I set out on another day of uncertainty which has become my life. In this country, it’s not enough to lower your expectations; it is necessary to have zero expectations.
I went to the school and found the director in the middle of making announcements regarding the events of the upcoming Anniversary. He talked about proper attire according to the events of the week. Wednesday = street clothes to play sports. Thursday = school uniform to march in the parade. Tomorrow (Tuesday) he wanted the kids to tell their parents about the mandatory work day. Aha! Although I knew he wasn’t about to make an announcement about digging a mini-landfill, I could stop by the parents meeting tomorrow and steal some parents to dig my hole. I would take some parents with their tools!
After the announcements, I asked the director what the teachers had said about digging the hole. He said it was fine. Later today the maintenance guys would dig it. I’m thinking, “Yeah, right.” I tell him I will come back tomorrow, just in case. If the hole’s not dug, I’ll steal those shovel-wielding parents. Maybe there’s hope.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I return to my house and see the bag of yet another failed project sitting on my table. The tourist surveys. The planning meeting for the surveys was five months ago. The surveys were printed four months ago. My site-mate and I tried to train the worker at the park entrance booth at that time. He had NO idea what he was supposed to do with these papers we handed him. We did some role-playing activities. We explained how to hand out the surveys, then pretended we were tourists arriving in Cashapampa after our 4 day trek along the Santa Cruz trail. He still had NO idea what he was supposed to do. My site-mate yelled at him. This guy was living up to the nickname we gave him, George McFly. He was bumbling around and utterly confused. He said he wasn’t sure he was allowed to do what we were asking him to do. We explained that we worked on the surveys with the President and Board of Directors of the tourist association. I felt bad for him, that he hadn’t had the access to education like we had, and couldn’t comprehend the instructions we were giving him. He thought the surveys had something to do with something else entirely. It was a frustrating experience, and we told him not to worry about it. We would return another time when someone else was manning the booth.
The next time I had enough energy to deal with the surveys again, I decided to do it in true development-work style. I went to the president himself. This time, I wasn’t messing around. I arrived with clearly written instructions, clipboards with attached pens, extra pens, labeled folders, and a laminated paper to post in the entrance booth. The laminated paper said in English & Spanish: “Please fill out the tourist satisfaction survey located in the park entrance booth. Available in English & Spanish.”
The surveys were in the possession of the president for almost two months. During this time, he was fired as president and took off to Lima. In the meantime, I was in the Amazon thinking of the thousands of tourists coming through my town and how much data we would have for next year’s tourist season. Boy was I wrong.
Upon my return to Cashapampa, I went to the entrance booth to see how many surveys had been filled out. None, because no one knew anything about them and had never seen them. I try to find the president, and found out that not only is he no longer the president, but has also taken off to Lima. I ask his wife if the surveys are still inside the house after all this time, and she doesn’t know anything about them. She was STANDING there when I handed the prez the bag and went over the instructions line by line. Whatever. I had other things to worry about. [That was the week I was trying to find someone to bring to the PC workshop with me.] More weeks go by, and I finally get the surveys back. It is a miracle they are intact and the pens weren’t stolen. Luckily or unluckily, depending on how you look at it, the surveys never left the bag which never left the house of the prez.
Which brings us to today. I walk to the entrance booth with these damn surveys. It is September 7 and we are very near the end of the tourist season. I try not to think of it as a huge missed opportunity. Instead, I think of my replacement volunteer and the work he/she has cut out for them. ;)
Low expectations. Low expectations. No expectations. No expectations.
I arrive at the entrance booth. The man greets me by name as he’s registering a group of tourists. Although he is busy getting change and registering tourists, he asks what he can do for me. I explain the surveys. I post the laminated sign. He reads the Spanish version of the survey. “Sure,” he says. Just to make sure he understands, he repeats what he is supposed to do, without my asking him to do so. “Have the tourist fill it out and leave it in the red folder. Replacement surveys are in folders marked English or Spanish. Any questions, I’ll find you in your house.” He double-checks who I live with. I tell him I’ll come back in a few days to see how it’s going. I walk away, thinking maybe there’s hope.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Almost to my house, and a community member flags me down. He asks about “Recliclaje.” I don’t know if he’s referring to recycling, trash in general, or the municipal landfill in my site-mate’s town. We chat for quite a while, about the trash, trash collection, and his wanting me to give a community talk about separating garbage. Oh my god. Really? This is fortuitous. I tell him I am currently working with the municipality, the mayor, the techs and engineer that work in the landfill, and we’re coordinating the whole garbage management thing, and I’m planning on going from town to town to explain garbage separation & pickup. I told him that as soon as I know anything more, I will let him know.
Upon reaching my house, it is barely 10am and I have had an unexpected productive day.
I wonder if it’s all too good to be true. When I see physical results, I’ll believe. Until then, my success is yet to be determined.
No comments:
Post a Comment