leaving
When you’re volunteering, you throw yourself heart and soul into a project. As Michelle
Hawkins, who volunteered in Ghana and Costa Rica with Raleigh International (p108), says:
You end up putting a lot more energy into work overseas as the need is so much greater.
This often means you make strong bonds with the people you work with which can make
it hard when the time comes to leave your volunteer programme. Kate Sturgeon, who
volunteered in Zimbabwe with MSF (p145), remembers:
It was quite hard to leave. After 16 months I’d become very attached to all my patients,
the staff and the work I’d put into the clinic. The clinic put on a wonderful send-off party
where all the staff said a few words and we had a special lunch (take-away pizza, which is
a real treat in the clinic!) and they gave me some leaving presents. Then a friend of mine
also organised a farewell party at the MSF house where we were living and a surprise band,
which was fantastic. They had to drag me to the airport the next day, I really didn’t want
to leave.
Jacqueline Hill volunteered for a year with VSO (p94) in Bangladesh and felt the same way:
There is a strong tradition of celebration at Dipshikha. I not only had more than one
‘leaving do’ with speeches and gifts, but they also put on a party with cake, balloons and a
photographer for my 40th birthday. Leaving was quite an emotional time, as I realised that
I might never see these people who I had spent one of the most significant years of my life
with again.
If you have volunteered with children, become part of their lives and started to care about
them, leaving can be heartbreaking. Poonam Sattee who worked with street kids in Guate-
mala, recalls:
I was incredibly upset leaving. I felt like I was abandoning the children – particularly as
they equated ‘needing to leave’ with ‘wanting to leave’ and they couldn’t understand the
difference. Before I left, I organised a thank-you party for the children to say thanks for
everything they shared with me: the fun times, their patience with me and for accepting
me like a friend. I was given lots of handmade cards with messages that were incredibly
beautiful and meant a lot – my emotions were really running high that day.
And it is not that much easier if you have volunteered as a team member on an environ-
mental rather than development project. Robin Glegg, who has volunteered on three sepa-
rate expeditions in the Altai, Namibia and Oman with Biosphere Expeditions (p174), says:
On all three expeditions there was a sense of deflation and disappointment that they were
coming to an end. Everybody bonds, enjoys the work and the time just goes
too quickly.
reverse Culture shock
It is hard to know which is greater: the cultural unease that you can feel when you start
your placement, or the shock of life back in your home country when you return. Reverse
culture shock is a perfectly natural thing to experience on coming home.
Poonam Sattee found it very hard to adjust after one year in Guatemala:
I hated being home! I think the biggest culture shock was when I was sent into the
SavaCentre by my mum to buy some tinned tomatoes. I was used to buying plain fresh
tomatoes from the market! I went into the aisle for tinned veg and saw tinned tomatoes,
chopped tomatoes, tomatoes with peppers, tomatoes in juice, brined tomatoes, tomatoes
in salsa etc, and I pretty much had a breakdown in the aisle (tears and everything). I
couldn’t understand the consumer society we live in where we sell about 25 different
varieties of tomatoes. It was ridiculous.
After 12 months in Bangladesh, it was mayonnaise that did it to Jacqueline Hill:
I felt quite numb for a few months. I put off seeing people for the first couple of weeks
because it was enough just to absorb being with family and in a modern, Western house
again. I went to the supermarket one day and was paralysed by the choices available.
‘Mayonnaise’ said the list. There were two rows of different types. How to decide? In
Bangladesh there was only ever one of anything, if it was available at all! I regret having
everything available all the time. I loved the seasonality of food in Bangladesh. I miss the
excitement of the run-up to the very short lychee season and the gloriously long mango
season. My first trip on the London underground felt like I was in some kind of nightmare,
futuristic movie. No-one smiled and they were all wearing black and grey.
It’s not just the abundance and waste of commodities that returned volunteers find hard to
accept, but the values and attitudes of people back home. Kate Sturgeon remembers:
I found everyone incredibly superficial and preoccupied with how they looked and what
people thought about them and all those neuroses everyone has. Compared to how I’d
been living, it all seemed grossly out of proportion. I found it very hard working back at
the hospital, as I was overwhelmed with the amount of drugs, resources and equipment; I
was so sad and angry thinking about how little we had in Zimbabwe where the real need is.
I also hated the way patients expect so much here and are forever complaining. They just
don’t realise what they have. Everything’s taken for granted.
Elaine Massie and Richard Lawson, who have volunteered on some 15 wildlife projects,
agree wholeheartedly:
It has made us realise how lucky we are and how much we as a society take for granted. In
Mexico very little is thrown away, even old nails are taken out of wood to be reused, yet we
live in a throwaway society where just about everything is disposable.
These experiences certainly make you stop and think which society is ‘developing’ one.
But what about friends and family; do they help you get back into the swing of things back
home? It’s hard to generalise, but Poonam Sattee says:
Talking to friends and family was hard as my life there, the culture, my living conditions
etc were so different. They just couldn’t comprehend why I found it so difficult to adjust.
However, coming home is a much more positive experience for some volunteers. Ann
Noon, who volunteered in Peru for 10 months, recalls:
At first it was almost as if I hadn’t been away. I’d expected to have trouble settling back in,
but really I just slipped right into my old ways – probably because it was just so great to see
people again and be back in my flat. It was probably three months down the line when I
realised that I was restless and missing the beauty of the Sacred Valley around Cusco.
And, even for Jacqueline Hill, who had trouble readjusting after a year in Bangladesh, there
were compensations for being home in the UK. As well as creature comforts, there was the
reassuring thought that she’d left certain creatures behind:
I had to get used to not reacting to flying insects which were unlikely to bite me and creepy
crawlies which were likely to be nothing more alarming than small spiders. I could also
leave a glass of juice on the table without finding it full of ants! I found sleeping without
a mosquito net quite unnerving at first, but gloried in being able to leave the washing-up
knowing that it would survive without becoming overrun by cockroaches!
settling back In
Resuming your life back home after a placement requires practical planning. For many
people, it also means establishing links that will help them to integrate their volunteering
experience into their life in a meaningful and rewarding way for the long term.
09: Coming Home :
Settling Back In