May 30, 2011: Another Look at Memorial Day

A Chapter by Marie Anzalone

Reflecting on the experiences of the other group who served their country: Returned Peace Corps Volunteers

It's funny how fast things can hit you. This morning, I got up after a bad night's sleep, reeling from a revealing and hurtful fight the night before. The fight had lasted until 1:00 AM, and I did not sleep much afterward. I came down the stairs of my rented apartment, still hurting and thinking about the things that were said, the accusations made; and wondering if I really do have to choose between a life alone doing what I want, and a life with a husband and family.

Truth be told, I've been feeling kind of "off" since I got back to Guatemala; like something is wrong but I cannot quite put my finger on it. I've been feeling very much isolated and alone, even though I've had wonderful interactions with people at work, in stores, in restaurants, etc. I'm fine when I'm out around others. When I'm alone, I'm a nervous wreck. I couldn't figure out why.

So this morning, I turned on the computer, and saw it was Memorial Day. I went to the National Peace Corps page, and read their annual statement about remembrance of the over 280 volunteers who died as a result of their service. It got me to thinking about the nature of service, and recognition. I started investigating other articles, and hit upon several discussion threads regarding rapes in the Peace Corps, and how the central offices both in country and in the US treated their female volunteers.

I believe that when there is a highly emotionally charged event, you will start over in the same situation feeling exactly the way you left, no matter how much time has elapsed; if you are placed back into a situation where you have to confront what happened. All of a sudden, I knew exactly why I have been out of sorts. This time, the circumstances of my visit have changed. I'm not here to visit friends and former neighbors, or set up working remotely. I'm here to finish my service, ended suddenly 7 1/2 years ago.

I was medically evacuated from my service for issues surrounding rape. I had a sudden onset of PTSD that was triggered by violence against several other volunteers (4 raped in Guatemala in 5 months), and by another event. Hearing the stories of the other volunteers who have had the courage to step forward about what happened to them, and how they were treated, I am very glad that my rape occurred 12 years prior to my service. The officials couldn't blame this one on me.

I've hinted at what happened that led to my eventual termination of service, but never actually detailed it en toto. I had started having flashbacks and nightmares, and was having a nervous breakdown. I couldn't figure out exactly why, and started seeing a counselor every 2 weeks in the capital. My ex-boyfriend, Adam, another volunteer, had the emotional understanding of a hemnorrhoid on the a*s end of a burro. He called the Peace Corps office and them I had anorexia (a lie) and was going to commit suicide. In reality, I was recovering from a 9 month amoeba infestation, which left me at just 66% of my body weight by the time I was diagnosed. Finally free of illness, my mind was coming to grips with other things.

Two days before he made the call, Adam told me he had been having sleepovers at his house in site for the neighbor's girls. In fact, he loved having them sleep with him in his bed. Let's skip the gory details and say only that this triggered some pretty bad memories for me. I actually put what he said out of my mind after he said it, because I could not cope. I remember hitting him so hard I was sure I'd left a bruise. Everything else is a fog.

I was ordered to the capital, and given two days to leave site for treatment in the US. I had to give away my horse, my dog, and my cat; and leave behind the formation of a $25,000 project that was going to help a lot of people improve their lives. Just like that, one phone call, and I was whisked away for "health reasons". Never mind the fact I was not in the least suicidal, which was the offical statement on record.

After 3 months of grueling treatment, the maximum allowed by Peace Corps, I was denied re-entry, pending 3 more months of psychiatric care. I was on my own, and I took a temporary job in order to complete treatment. Towards the end of treatment, I remembered one night what Adam told me, and called the Peace Corps nurse in country to talk about it the next day. She promised me they would look into it, but also I was told that they did not want a scandal on their hands. She asked about his drug use, since that WAS grounds for dismissal (apparently having children in bed with you is not).

Adam was discharged from service within a few days, but he was given 2 weeks to leave country. He was never told the real reason for his discharge. Instead, he was discharged for violating the zero-tolerance drug policy. From what I can tell, the policy is only in effect in order to get rid of problem volunteers, so there is a safety net of sorts. Adam took those two weeks to paint me as avindictive ex who narced in order to get revenge, as he knew full well he had made the call to have me removed because I knew too much, and he wanted me out of his life.

The Peace Corps is a very tightly knit group- and you're either in or out. I cannot begin to describe the vitriol in the letters I received from other volunteers regarding Adam's termination of service. In my opinion, he got off lucky with no charges pressed against him. I received death threats and so many nasty missives that I was unable to even reach out to other volunteers for years. I did send an open letter explaining the real reason he was released from service, once my three months were up and my request to re-enter service was denied. I've been trying ever since then to get back to complete the great works I started.

What is really harrowing to me is that, without the direct guidance of someone to own the economic development project we started in country, it dissolved and has not returned the vlaue it should have for the people who needed it the most. I learned today that aid workers in the region have recently been shot, and even Guatemala is giving up on the people in the region until Mexican drug trafficking can be curtailed. I can only wonder, had the project been able to move forward as it should have, with technical schools and the building of a secure economic base, would the people have been able to be more resistant to the influence of norcotic and human trafficking? Poverty breds violence; this has always been.

It struck me today that Adam liked Guatemala as much as he did because it is a very male-oriented country. I never asked if he did more than sleep with those girls- I did not feel that was my place. I will say the younger of the two, Elvia, was, at 8 years old, in the habit of walking up to adults and fondling their genitals and breasts. He had been sleeping with her for months. Many children here are abused, and in some regions, the women have no voice. I was not given a voice, or a chance. It was a classic case of turning on the whistle-blower and blaming the victim.

I was told I was the best volunteer in country. The way I was dismissed, and the way my leaving was handled, traumatized so badly I had nightmares and work issues for the past 8 years. Back here, I am realizing I needed to come back to heal me as a primary goal, and will not be able to return to normal until I do so. Even today, the memory of what happened had me curled in a ball, sobbing, before I got up to go to work. I don't rightly know that there are any easy solutions. When I left, my dog was given away, my horse was held for ransome, my research materials were stolen, and my house was robbed. Adam had taken the lock off my front door. The only thing was the leather laptop satchel I gave to Chris earlier this year. Had I been permitted to return, I would have had to start over from scratch. I still have not been able to replace my veterinary medical reference library.

People join both the Peace Corps and the military to serve their country, but the people who join the Peace Corps usually join becuase they have a vision for a world where war is a last resort, not the first line of strategy. They dream of a place where children are free from oppression and servitude; where women have voices; and where a land can improve its economic future for itself.

Of course there can be no comparison between our troops and our RPCVs; not really. Still, I wish our country recognized the Peace Corps volunteer service as being equally valuable. We give years of our lives, and, I am finding out, more and more of us come back emotionally traumatized by our expereinces, with next to no compensation for our medical or psychological treatment.

I am hoping for reform in the system. There is legitimacy in what the women volunteers have said about the difference between how men are treated, and how women are. There is absolutely no reason for the same officials to believe the word of a drug using, neo-New Testament prophet male over that of a hard-working, career-minded female; except for rampant sexism in the system. The sexism has to be so insidious that it is hard to see.

I know that our female armed forces face much of the same discrimination. Rape and sexual assault by men are covered up. Mental illness and PTSD are treated as "weaknesses" of character, or the result of a flawed mind. Female values are wontonly denigrated, put down, destroyed.

My wish this Memorial Day is two-fold:

1) That we we can learn from the experiences of our young people and create a nurturing environment for their mental and emotional needs as they seek to represent what is best about America

2) That one day, America will ahve the maturity to recognize that Peace Corps service is just as demanding a service as the military, and deserves its own recognition as anational holiday dedicated to the veterans of Goodwill and Peace.

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