Swear Words

“I – state your name – do so solemnly swear…” The last time I saw these words I had absolutely no idea what I was getting into, at least until someone informed me that NAVY actually stands for “Never Again Volunteer Yourself.” Of course, when you’re 18 and saying those words, six years doesn’t sound like all that much time…until you’re in your 5^th year under a tyrannical Captain (think The Caine Mutiny except someone much less likable than Humphrey Bogart’s character) and a lead officer that (A) has the intelligence of a clump of dirt, (B) lacks the managerial competence of even a below average McDonald’s manager, and (C) possesses the people skills of an eel. It turns out that the easiest way to eliminate incompetence in your unit/division in the Navy is to promote the problem to their highest level of incompetency. Some say that in the military the cream rises to the top. Well, that may be true, but turds also float. Between enlisted officers with 15 years of experience and the leadership skills of a goat in addition to line officers that only had authority because they were born with a silver spoon between their butt cheeks and possessed a college degree (usually in business no less; the worst were the legacy “Academy Grads” that had less brains than a houseplant but a lineage dating back to the Civil War), like most of my shipmates I left the Navy less than enchanted with my experience. So after one less than palatable volunteer experience in government service I didn’t come to the decision to volunteer in the Peace Corps lightly.

The difference is that in the Navy, you’re stuck. Once you swear in and sign the papers the only way you’re getting out is (1) shutting up, keeping your head down, and doing your time (also a successful strategy for prison), (2) even if you weren’t asked, telling leadership that you like showering with other men…a lot, (3) knocking over a convenience store during your off time and getting thrown in jail, or (4) coming home in a box draped in an American flag. Numbers 1 and 4 will get you an honorable discharge, but obviously come at a considerable cost. Death may be forever, but 4-6 years of conscripted service can seem that way too. Numbers 2 and 3 can shorten your term, but will also obviously be at a considerable cost in which both potentially involve uncomfortable descriptions of sodomy. Given the consequences of options 1-3, at times number 4 may even seem like a preferred option. Don’t get me wrong, I will be forever thankful for and proud of my military service. I, in fact, excelled while I was in the Navy, acquiring several leadership roles and awards. And there were at least a few outstanding examples of leadership, such as a Chief that I knew that should’ve been a Captain but for that whole silver spoon thing I referred to earlier. However, while I wouldn’t take a million dollars for my experience in the Navy I wouldn’t take a billion to do it over again.

In contrast, the term volunteer takes on the actual meaning it is supposed to have in the Peace Corps. In other words, the Peace Corps is not about to force someone to stay in a placement that they despise. Nothing good comes out of forcing someone to stay where they don’t want to be, as the military sort of learned with draftees in Vietnam. Moreover, it’s a little antithetical to the mission of the Peace Corps if you have someone who hates who and where they are trying to build the bonds of friendship and improve development. Just as voluntarily as one joins the Peace Corps you can voluntarily leave at any time as well.

But given all we went through just to get to Fiji, we, of course, have no intention of leaving. As we came to the conclusion of 7 weeks of Peace Corps training, all those long days of language and cultural training that amount to an intellectual and emotional boot camp also came to a close. The last thing to do was to say those magic words that changed us from trainees to volunteers. I’m not talking about “ala peanut butter sandwiches” or “pocuscadabra, abracapocus,” but almost those exact words that I had spoken almost 20 years ago. Only this time, rather than going into it “knowing it all” but in reality almost completely blind as I had before, I felt a resounding sense of comfort and tranquility in the confidence of the decision that Michelle and I had made together to join the Peace Corps.

On the day of swearing in, Peace Corps had erected a large tent on the grounds at Nadavi, the site where our journey had begun. They had invited several dignitaries to speak and, most importantly, had invited members of our host families to attend the swearing in ceremony. In reality, however, the ceremony itself seemed more like a formality at this point, with us more or less going through the motions after already passing our language proficiency exams and knowing our site placements. Nonetheless, the ceremony was very tastefully done, with some inspiring words spoken by a U.S. Ambassador for the South Pacific region and the Peace Corps Fiji Country Director, Ruth Larimer. When the time came, we all stood up and swore that we would proudly represent our country followed shortly by the announcement and presentation of the FRE-8 volunteers.

Like any graduation day, the moments that followed were filled with joy, anticipation, anxiety, and some bittersweet sadness in knowing that, almost immediately, friends that we had made over the preceding weeks would be departing for their prospective sites in all directions. We had one last opportunity for pictures and a few repeat meke performances before dispersing to all corners of the Fiji islands. Some were leaving straight away, others that evening, and, ourselves, we were in the last group leaving on the following day. As buses and taxis raced about between shouts of “Good Bye!” and “Take Care!”, we slowly prepared ourselves psychologically for our own departure the next day on the ferry M/V Suilvan, which would take us on a 12 hour ride to the port of Savusavu on Vanua Levu and, ultimately, to the place that would be our home for the next two years.

Staging and training was over and it was now time to get down to the core of Peace Corps service. As we stepped on to the ferry and said goodbye to our friends on Viti Levu I thought, “Let the adventure begin!”