The Foreign Service Journal, November 2008

N O V E M B E R 2 0 0 8 / F O R E I G N S E R V I C E J O U R N A L 53 That experience led me to join the Foreign Service. Thanks to Jerry Kyle, a branch public affairs officer and one of the few foreigners to visit the area, I learned what a U.S. Information Service officer did. Jerry regularly bumped about the region showing movies, passing out Thai-language brochures and carrying out the USIS mission of building con- fidence in the government’s plans to improve rural life and counter the threat of an incipient insurgency. He made a deep impression on me. But it was not until after graduate school, in 1967, that I accepted an offer to join the Foreign Service. On my flight to Thailand for my first FS posting, I recalled many positive things about my time in Kamphaengphet. But I also remem- bered the occasional conferences in Bangkok when we were briefed by FSOs who spoke little Thai and adopted a patron- izing and self-important manner with us. I was dead set against turning out like them. So over the next 32 years, whether in Thailand, Japan, Ireland or Great Britain — the four countries I was posted to with USIA — I went out of my way to be a Peace Corps Volunteer in FSO clothing. I polished my language skills (even making a futile effort to learn Irish in Ireland), got out of the office to meet all levels of people, ate the local cuisine and demonstrated my interest in the local culture. Throughout my Foreign Service career, I often asked myself: “How would a good Peace Corps Volunteer handle this?” or “What would have worked in Kamphaengphet?” More often than not, the answer was the right one. Robin Berrington FSO, retired Washington, D.C. F ROM M UN -J U TO Y U About halfway through my “rest year” after college, I accepted the Peace Corps’ invitation to teach English and math to middle school students in Boda, a remote village of 4,000 people in the Central African Republic. I went for public service, but came back two years later with personal and professional growth I could never have gained else- where. I was the only Peace Corps Volunteer there and one of only a dozen “mun-ju” (“white person” — though I’m Asian- American) in our village. Each day, I walked 20 minutes from one end of town to the other on my way to and from school. In the beginning, children ran alongside me shout- ing, “mun-ju, mun-ju.” Old women pointed and laughed. I later learned they were all bewildered because no mun-jus walked in Boda; they all drove through town in their Toyota trucks. The lack of respect bugged me at first, but it was a humbling experience. Over time I realized that I needed to find my proper place in village society and become a respect- ful partner in this assistance/human relationship enterprise. After I did, the yells became “Yu, Yu, Yu,” and the women stopped laughing. It was easy to lose hope as a teacher in the CAR — too many children squeezed into too few school benches in grim classrooms, without books and often without chalk. Most of my students would not go on to high school; they were called back to their future as subsistence farmers. We all knew escape from the village was a long shot, yet in many of these kids’ eyes there was an incredible hope and enthusiasm for learning. Now, when facing the direst of circumstances at work or home, I sometimes think back to those students and remind myself of how lucky we all are — and of our obliga- tion to help others. My first exposure to the Foreign Service there was almost my last. The ambassador’s Office Management Specialist took pity on a grungy volunteer and invited me over for lunch whenever I made the 60-kilometer, six-hour journey to Bangui, the country’s capital. On one visit, she invited me to dinner with two FS couples. I put on my cleanest jeans and was ready to regale the group with all the classic Outward Bound-like stories that volunteers love to trot out. But there was no interest. Instead, discussion centered around the hardships of FS life in Bangui — which sounded pretty good from where I was sitting! It was when all of them (except my friend) complained far too long about their frozen turkeys not arriving in time for Thanksgiving that I swore to myself I would never join an organization of such namby-pambys. Obviously, I broke that pledge, but I have tried to main- tain the other life lessons of gratitude, optimism and humili- ty in my post-Peace Corps life. Alan Yu Political Counselor Embassy Kabul O PENNESS G ETS R ESULTS I see the influence of my Peace Corps experience on my State career in two broad areas: cultural and cross-cultural approaches, and management practice. My Peace Corps service in Gabon left me with a legacy of wanderlust and a sense of adventure. Learning in such detail about another culture only whetted my appetite. There is always more to be learned, and I find it exciting that, for all their diversity, humans have more in common than not. There is no place that I don’t want to go, for the world is a busy, buzzing, phenomenally interesting place to be. There is almost something spiritual about it. The roots of my management approach derive from my days as a volunteer leader, post administrative officer, and