I’m not working at my dream job. I’d love to be more optimistic about it, but guilt keeps me honest (freaking guilt). My real passion is making lists. If a person in charge of hiring listologists is reading this, please hire me. I’d be an artisan of the craft —my lists would mean something and stir emotions in people. Imagine reading a list of included items in a cooking set:
1 Nonstick Pan that resists even the most stubborn adversary.
1 Sauce Pan impervious to the brutality of metal whisks.
1 Large Pot that rejects the beauty standards of today’s world.
3 Lids designed to help keep the pot from boiling over literally and metaphorically.
and plenty of packaging to pollute the oceans and keep your material items safe for short periods of time. *insert a picture of sea otters caught in plastic*
Unfortunately, large corporations (or even non-profit listizers) have yet to recognize my gifts. So, in the mean time, I’m doing the next best thing: volunteering in Comoros. Yes, my priorities are (1) Make lists, and (2) Volunteer in a third world country. Numbers 3 and 4 both involve the liberal and/or gay agenda (number 5 is argue with that conservative guy from my church on Facebook (number 6 is put everything in parentheses)) because agendas are basically lists in the form of activism (and agenda is a fun word that I couldn’t spell until Sophomore year of college, so take that agenda! I SPELL YOU).
So…volunteering… My job is a confusing paradox of the most difficult thing I’ve ever done and the easiest job in the universe. In every aspect of volunteering I face this dichotomy: I can’t seem to get the language right, but I only need to know like five phrases for everyone to think I’m fluent; I’m thousands of miles away from everyone I have ever loved (pre-Comoros), but I’m also on a beautiful tropical island with lots of beautiful people; I have to teach new-beginner middle schoolers (enough said, trust me), but I only teach 10 hours a week; I have to talk to people I don’t understand who also don’t understand me, but it’s in my job description to just talk to people sometimes.
So, that’s what I do. I talk to people. I talk to basically every native Comoran about how the heck I’m supposed to talk to them because I can’t figure out this “you all” tense (vosotros for those Spanish-speaking people), and the word for bathroom sounds just like the word for bedroom, and I never know for sure if people are interested in how I slept or how I pooped, and when I try to ask about words I just get laughed at because I’m sure my accent is hilarious, so I try to just laugh with them —which results in plenty of smiles, but seriously which room are they talking about?! I talk to my English-speaking friends about American politics and Comoran politics (usually resulting in apologies from both parties). I talk to my director and other teachers about libraries and literacy and the importance of the collective global knowledge of online news sources that I’d like students to be able to read some day. I talk to Americans about life here and ask them to help make it better for my students, my community, or for me (I will be accepting all MnM donations. Please contact pcvlggcomoros@gmail.com for shipping details).
I also show Americans ways Comoros is already great. I tell them about my host mom who feeds me every night even though I’ve almost always already eaten. I talk about the delicious food my best friend Mousna Farihata Ali is teaching me to cook. I show my students working hard in their studies or cleaning rooms for future libraries. I speak about the peace countless Muslim Comoran people voice to me because many Americans mistakingly think Islam and Peace are the antitheses of each other. Because Comoros is full of people that love Comoros, and I love to spread that love like butter on rye (or the bread (or non-glutenous alternative) of your choice).
Today, my school had a meeting with all of the teachers here. It was about the students’ trimester scores (of which half of the students in the whole school failed). At first I was discouraged, and it seemed like the rest of the teachers were discouraged with me. But instead of sitting through the meeting and begrudgingly continuing to teach students that just don’t seem to learn, we had a brainstorming session on how to improve our teaching methods, and how to improve the school system as a whole. This is what keeps me coming to class every day. It’s hard to enter an admittedly broken system with students who can’t learn within it, but passions ignite when the empowered get together to make a change for good.
And that’s what I do —what everyone does, I guess: I build on the work of those before me to create a better future. And I don’t even have the hassle of getting paid for it like the rest of you guys! Win.
Luke Garfield graduated Indiana Wesleyan University in the fall of 2016 with a bachelors degree in Writing and TESOL. He is currently a Peace Corps Volunteer stationed in the island country of Comoros off the eastern coast of Africa. Luke enjoys sitting on his roof watching fruit bats swarm at sunset because they’re awesome.