Story by Cody Newton
Photos courtesy of Chelsea Harrower
September 28, 2008. She stood in the Redmond Airport, saying the final goodbyes to her parents. She didn’t cry this time. She had spent the previous few weeks sharing tears with friends and family, buying and packing supplies, finishing a crash course in Portuguese, and doing her best to mentally prepare for what was to come. By September 28, University of Oregon student Chelsea Harrower was exhausted from anticipation and ready to board the plane to begin her adventure.
It was a dream she’d had since childhood: to work as a Peace Corps volunteer. However, what was supposed to be a 27-month commitment in Mozambique quickly turned into an emotional carnival ride of solitude, communal rejection, pain, and physical danger. She fought hard and reveled in the good times, always staying positive, but in the end, Africa gave this young woman a little more than what the average Peace Corps volunteer receives. Ethos sat down with Harrower to learn more about her journey.
Cody Newton: You’d been thinking about the Peace Corps for years. How did you picture it before you left?
Chelsea Harrower: I was definitely naïve about what the Peace Corps would be like. A lot of volunteers, myself included, romanticized how serving would be. I mean, this is a big commitment, so of course you want to think that it’ll make a big impact and that you are doing something that will be immediately recognized as important.
CN: Do you feel like you had a different experience in the Peace Corps than most other volunteers? If so, why?
CH: Absolutely. I had several difficult, random, incredibly sad things happen. I had repeat events that wore me down slowly. It took having a screwdriver to my neck for me to realize that I was not serving a normal Peace Corps experience and so I could not react normally. I needed to leave.
CN: Would you be willing to elaborate on the screwdriver incident?
CH: Yeah. It happenedFebruary 27, 2010, my 24th birthday. I was visiting a site close to mine to celebrate with a few other female volunteers. We were in a small village along the beach. It was really hot so we were outside most of the night, cooking, listening to music, and drinking beer. Their bathroom was outside of the yard gate, but it had a door with a lock. Around 10 p.m. I walked out to wash my face and get ready to pass out. As I left, I turned to lock the door again. When I got about two steps away from the bathroom, a man came up from behind me, put his arm around my neck with his hand covering my mouth. In his other hand, he shoved a rusty screwdriver to my throat.
It all happened so fast and was so unexpected that my first thought was that it was Emma [fellow Peace Corps volunteer who was in the house] playing a joke. It took me about five seconds to realize this was actually happening. He was saying something to me, but I can’t remember what. I think he was “shhhh”-ing me so I wouldn’t scream. I kept trying to say “Tenho dineiro, tenho dineiro” [“I have money”] but his hand was too hard against my mouth. We started walking into the yard and I remember thinking he was going to rape me.
Once we got halfway in [the house], I called out Emma’s name as loud as I could and twisted around to fight him back. I started punching his gut with my left hand, but the screwdriver started scraping on my neck harder so I stopped. We stood in the doorway of the house in the same position while Stephanie and Emma [another friend, Becky, was sleeping and walked in later] tried to process what was happening. Steph started handing him money and a camera, whatever was on the table really, just so he would let go of me. I reached out for Steph’s hand and she started trying to pull me away from him. I started pushing him out the door with my other hand and then we shut it in his face. We pretty much just collapsed in shock after that.
We contacted Peace Corps immediately after and were instructed to head to the capital as soon as possible for trauma counseling. That was kind of a joke. One session couldn’t do much. I tried to stay after it happened and I returned to my site. I found it really difficult since I lived by myself and my bathroom was outside with poor lighting in the yard and I knew that I wouldn’t be able to see the rest of my service the same. That guy ruined it. The most frustrating part is that he probably doesn’t give a second thought to what he did that night. He got what he wanted and completely altered my mindset. Ever heard the saying “Life isn’t fair”? [Laughs]
CN: What was the most challenging situation you were faced with?
CH: Situation or overall obstacle? I mean the most challenging situation would probably be when my bus killed a young boy while I was traveling to the capital. On August 24, 2009, I was traveling down to the capital for Peer Support training. It’s a 10-hour ride, depending on the day, people, number of chickens, etcetera from my site in Morrumbene to the capital [Maputo]. I was traveling with another volunteer, Vic, who lived about thirty minutes from me. We were only three hours away from the capital, passing through Xai-Xai [pronounced “shy-shy”] when our bus hit a bump. I was looking all around, along with everyone else, to see what happened. The buses are notorious for breaking down so I assumed our engine had fallen out or something equally ridiculous. When I asked the woman next to me what was going on, she said we’d hit someone. I looked around more frantically, asking where the person was. She said he was under the bus. “Is he alive?” I asked. The woman responded with a slow shake of her head.
Vic decided to exit the bus and see what he could do to help. I followed him out and saw the boy. My first thought was that he could have been one of my eighth grade students. I distinctly remember his face being in a puddle. The most disturbing part of the entire incident was the complete lack of reaction from the other passengers. They were all concerned about continuing on their way, not the dead boy who five minutes ago was selling eggs. I’ve told myself that I grew up in a culture that reacts to death differently and that I couldn’t expect the same there, but logic doesn’t really play a role in that situation. You know, it’s nine months later, and I still don’t know how to feel about what happened. I had a brutally honest view into how many countries in the world have to approach death, no matter how surprising or tragic it is. My beliefs on humanity were seriously altered that day.
As for an overall obstacle, it was probably my daily battles with being an outsider; of not feeling understood, missing my culture, language, and home. I lived alone so that amplified those feelings some.
CN: Do you feel the training you received adequately prepared you for those difficult situations?
CH: [Laughs] No, not really. But I don’t blame Peace Corps for that. There’re just certain things that you need to experience for yourself before you truly understand them. Training tried to prepare us for all the possible scenarios we’d encounter at our sites, but it just wasn’t possible. We had to get out there and do it ourselves and then we’d look back and think: “Ohhhhh, that’s what they were talking about.”
CN: When was it that you realized going home with nine months left, was best?
CH: I didn’t have an “I know I need to leave moment.” I was never really sure, and I kept debating it up until I was getting on the plane [to head back to the U.S.]. Even now, I’m not absolutely positive it was the right choice. It was a combination of things that made me tell Peace Corps I needed to leave. I knew that I’d probably be staying more out of stubbornness than anything else. I’d learned that I could convince myself into doing just about anything—so I knew I could have finished out the last nine months. But I also knew that I wouldn’t be happy doing it. I chose to abandon ship rather than sink with it. I also had a lot of family members pressuring me to come home. I can’t blame them, but it made it feel like the decision wasn’t just about what I wanted or thought was best.
CN: Is there anything the Peace Corps could’ve done differently that may have altered your decision?
CH: No, the Peace Corps couldn’t have done any more than they did. It’s true that there aren’t a lot of options for volunteers who have experiences similar to mine, but I don’t believe that to be a choice made by Peace Corps. It has to do with lack of funds, time, and resources. Things are harder there! Some things just don’t work out. But my Country Director offered me everything they could and I don’t feel let down by them in the slightest. [A Country Director is employed by the Peace Corps to oversee operations in a specific country. They report back to Washington D.C.]
CN: What did you learn most about yourself?
CH: That’s complicated. Well, like I said before, I learned I can do just about anything I set my mind to. I’d never been the most confident person, but I gained it while living there. I really appreciate that. I also got so much perspective about life and what’s important. I know that seems so corny and cliché, but it’s true!
CN: In your opinion, what is the greatest challenge Peace Corps volunteers face?
CH: I guess, maybe, being misunderstood by people back home. When you first get there, you cling to the memories of what’s familiar back home. As volunteers we’d reminisce about people, things, food, activities back home that we missed. At some point how you view those things start to change, and the people that you were closest to back home stop understanding what you’re doing, what your life is like, how you’re feeling, etcetera. I found that pretty disconcerting.
CN: After having been in the Peace Corps for a year and a half, would you say it went at all how you pictured it before you left?
CH: [Laughs] No, it did not. Like how I said in the first question: I romanticized what my Peace Corps experience would be like before I left. Reality is a cruel force no matter where it is! But in all the ways it was awful, it was great in ways I hadn’t been able to anticipate before going there.
CN: Do you have any regrets?
CH: Absolutely! I regret coming home, to a certain degree. I regret not appreciating everything more, taking enough pictures, or trying new things. I think I’d probably have those regrets even if I’d finished my service when I was supposed to. How much I miss Mozambique surprises me!
