In a world full of people whose concept of charity extends only to forwarding inspirational Facebook messages, it's impressive to hear of people who actually fly across the world and spend years of their lives living with the needy people they're trying to help. And we're here to tell you, that shit is even harder than it sounds.
Mark Hipwood spent 15 years providing medical aid to isolated villages in the Pacific Islands. Cracked sat down with him to learn the pains, pitfalls, frustrations, and reams of B.S. that go along with trying to make the world a better place. He told us ...
5Nothing Can Prepare You for the Culture Shock
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My first time out, I strode into a village with my clipboard and crisp, white button-down shirt, plastered a big, helpful "I come in peace" smile on my face ... and watched helplessly as the village's entire child population ran screaming into the jungle.
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Behold the face of evil.
This was a remote village in Vietnam, and many of the kids there hadn't seen a white person before. The kids didn't think I was a god or anything, but my blazing whiteness was utterly alien to them. I looked like some sort of nightmarish cartoon character, only these kids hadn't seen cartoons, either. If this was a movie, we would be just a few humorous misunderstandings away from realizing that deep down, all people are the same, you guys! But in real life, the gulf between cultures can be almost incomprehensible. I'm talking about things like the basic concept of time. At the same village, I had this exchange:
"How long does it take you to fetch water?" I asked.
"No," he said.
"No, sorry. What I mean is: How long does it take to get water from the well?"
This went on for ... well, a long fucking time. Then I realized I'd been missing what his eyes were saying: "It takes as long as it takes, dickhead."
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"I usually get home sometime between dumbass-American o'clock and half after take-your-shit-elsewhere."
See, it turns out not everyone measures time in minutes and hours. Sure, the people I was working with had a basic idea that time exists: Stuff happens and then something else happens after that. But there isn't much point in keeping track of minutes and hours if you can get by just fine without it (remember, watches weren't even commonplace in the west until a few hundred years ago). When your major daily concerns are getting water and avoiding crocodiles, you care a whole lot less about how fast some arrow moves around a dial. That stuff isn't done by appointment.
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"Besides, they keep eating our damn clocks."
And the culture shock hits you twice -- when you spend a few years in that environment and then come back to "normal" life, it really is jarring to realize how time-oriented our society is. People are absolutely insulted if you show up late and twitchy about things running too long. You have to wrench your head back into that mindset after you've become used to waiting an hour for anyone to show up -- because that's how it is in a situation where everyone has just a vague idea of what time of day they should be somewhere.
So then you start to resent how rigid life is in a developed country: You think, "Geez, does everything have to be so exacting?" You go to Starbucks and find yourself with an overwhelming variety of options. Do I really need six different types of latte? Would it be worth making do with lukewarm instant coffee to never see one of those brightly lit menus again?
Only if it still costs $4.75.
And then, there are the desperate women.
At home, I am straight down the line average: a single white guy with no kids and a little bit of disposable income. Maybe I get three responses a month on OKCupid. But in these villages, I'm seen as somebody's ticket out. Every time I went into a new location, I had to deal with the shock on people's faces when I gave an honest response to the simple question, "Are you married?" Then the offers would come. A relentless barrage of desperate women and desperate parents of young women would approach me, and I would have to awkwardly decline "come save me" sex again and again.
This isn't a boast -- it had nothing to do with me and everything to do with them seeing an easy way out of a tough situation. If I had it all to do over again I'd have gone to Walmart, bought a cheap ring, and lied my ass off to everyone who asked.
4People Can Make It Hard to Help Them
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We were doing a sexual health program, and we put a whole bunch of condoms into the health dispensary to get them out to brothels, bars, pretty much anywhere people hook up for casual encounters. On our first visit, a huge number of condoms went missing. We investigated, and it turned out those condoms actually worked great as fishing lures. So the fishermen stole all the condoms and the people celebrated with well-fed but unprotected sex.
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We imagine the fish who managed to get away had one hell of an evening too.
Another time, we bought a car for a local hospital and the minister for health pulled the engine out and put it into his own car. We left a shiny new vehicle, came back a couple of months later to do an inspection, and found a shiny new wreck. The guy who did that wasn't an evil guy; he was dedicated and probably put years of work into the health of his fellows. But he wanted that car. And the fact that it didn't belong to him mattered exactly dick. Clearly we had plenty of cars, so many we were just giving them away. To paraphrase Fiddler on the Roof: Would it ruin some vast, intricate plan if he could just have one car to do wicked donuts in?
We call it corruption, but many don't view it that way at all. They consider it inventiveness. It's easy for the people you're helping to start to see aid funds as the only way to get anything done, so, it's in their interest to game that system. Every activity imaginable in these islands somehow winds up requiring laptops and cars. They're flashy things that all people want, and they're also hip things for Westerners to give away. Why not go for it?
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"While you're at it, our irrigation system could really use a new PlayStation."
So, immediately post 9/11, a lot of funds became available for anti-terrorist stuff. You can guess what happened next -- everyone looking for funds found a way to work their project under the anti-terrorism umbrella. "We need this car to transport patients between hospitals, because if they don't they'll leave the village and might become terrorists."
Along the same vein: They get very clever about over-reporting deaths and attributing them to certain diseases to keep getting funds. If someone old bites it, the hospitals can be pretty creative about ascribing them to "complications from Tuberculosis." Why? Because that means more sweet donor dollars for all the living TB patients. So you could get mad at them for lying, but your anger will last right up until the moment you get TB.