Tami Lynn Volunteers Ch 1
Posted: Tue Jan 11, 2022 12:03 pm
Tami Lynn Volunteers
BY: Hooked6
Copyright January 2022 by Hooked6 (Hooked6@hotmail.com) all rights reserved. Reproduction, redistribution, reposting on another Internet site whether or not a charge or profit is made is forbidden without the expressed written consent of the author. All characters are over 18.
Author’s note: This story is a spin-off of “Going Native” by Joe Doe and the character Builder Bob and parts of the story concept and village are used with the gracious permission of Joe Doe. This story takes place several years after the original story and the plot ultimately evolves in a radically different manner from the original. I do hope I do justice to his marvelous idea. It is not necessary to read "Going Native" to understand and enjoy this spin-off as it stands on its own but the original is quite interesting.
Chapter 1 Part A
I was bored. I was a 35-year-old stay at home housewife. With my sons all grown and leading lives of their own away from home at college and my husband busy accomplishing fulfilling things with his career, I began to think that there had to be something more that I could do with my life – something much more interesting than just being a housewife. Since I had my children very early in life, I was still young and attractive and full of energy but I was stuck in a rut at home.
During this time of sitting on my little pity-pot, we had a new neighbor move in down the street named Bob. He was a former member of the Peace Corps and now did short-term volunteer work for some new organization in under-developed countries in addition to his main job which earned him a living.
To make a long story short, we ran into each other in Walmart the other day and we got to talking. He was excited about his latest upcoming trip to help improve sanitation in a remote African village and to bring donated medical and school supplies to the village’s inhabitants.
It all sounded so interesting – actually DOING something to improve the lives of those whose daily existence was dismal; fraught with hardship and without hope. Here was somebody that I actually knew making a small but meaningful difference in the world. I wished I could do something like that.
“Say, Tami, why don’t you come with us. We are only going to be gone 10 days and we do have a vacancy. The Trans Global Volunteers organization (TGV) would cover your expenses. It is a great opportunity to expand your horizons and see people and places ordinary people never dream of. I am sure that I could arrange everything. We can sure use another pair of hands. What do you say?”
He must have seen the excitement in my eyes as he was talking. It all sounded so . . . so . . . exciting. Here was an opportunity to actually make a difference and I knew this was just the thing to relieve my mini-depression. But, as usual of late, self-doubts and negative thinking took over my thoughts. I was rather timid in dealing with other people and, well, in taking risks in general.
“Oh, I couldn’t do anything like that. Besides, it sounds so dangerous.”
“On the contrary, we have been to this village many times doing various projects and it is quite safe and we are made to feel most welcome by the tribe. Of course, you might feel a bit of culture shock being so used to all the creature comforts and luxuries you have here in Tampa, and I understand that someone as upper middle-class as you are might not want to get her hands a little dirty. Oh well, it was just a thought.”
His comments cut me to the quick. “Hey, I don’t mind a bit of hard work. I take care of a self-absorbed husband, don’t I? I was just worried about, well you know, my safety – Africa? It sounds very unsafe, especially for young, attractive and desirable woman like myself.” (Okay, I was flirting a bit, but at that moment Bob was so attractive and manly looking with his rugged appearance and his unselfish work on behalf of the unfortunate was warming my heart.)
He put his hand on my arm and said, “I can assure you that it is quite safe. You don’t have to take my word for it. You know Dr Dan Westin, don’t you? The Family Doctor? I think your husband mentioned him a while back.”
Dr Dan was indeed our family doctor and took care of my boys as they grew up. I liked him a lot. “Yes, I know him.” I replied.
“Well, he’s our medical advisor for this trip and will be going with us. He has been to this village several times. Why don’t you ask him if the trip is safe? Tami, I am not trying to be pushy or anything but we could really use your help and there isn’t really time to find anyone else as most of our regular volunteers are already committed to other projects.”
“But I don’t really have any skills that you could use. I’m just a housewife. I don’t know anything about construction or sanitation and I am certainly not a nurse or anything. I don’t see how . . .”
“You can move boxes, distribute food and supplies to the women and children, do a little paperwork, take photos documenting what we did; You can do those things, right? You’d be surprised how valuable you can be. Why even a ‘go-fer’ is a welcome pair of hands. We will show you what to do. I promise you that you will come back with such a positive sense of well-being and a whole new outlook on life. There is no feeling quite like helping your fellow man.”
The more Bob talked, the more I knew that this was just what I needed to take me out of the dumps and feel alive again.
I told him I was interested but still had reservations and that I would give Dr. Dan a call that day and get back with him. As we left to go our separate ways, I knew in my heart that my husband would NEVER let me go on such a trip. Still, there was no harm in researching things a little. Even that would be exciting even if nothing ever came of it.
- - - - -
I took a chance and dropped by Dr. Dan’s office and to my surprise he was able to see me. He was most encouraging. He assured me that the trip was safer than walking around downtown Tampa during the daytime. He showed me some pictures he had of a previous trip to the village. It was small and primitive but not threatening or disgusting looking. Like Builder Bob, as he called his friend and my neighbor, he strongly encouraged me to go. He also said that he would have a word with my husband to allay any fears he might have – especially since Bob was not only new to our neighborhood but that he was young and ruggedly handsome as well. He said he would assure my husband that he had nothing to worry about and that he would look after me and gave me some pamphlets on the Trans Global Volunteers organization.
I was so excited after leaving his office that I could hardly stand it. I wasn’t sure what I was going to say or how or even IF I was going to broach the subject to my husband, but I was determined to give it a try.
As I was waiting for my husband to come home, I got a call from the organization informing me that my trip had been approved and my tickets had been arranged and would be waiting for me at the airport. Apparently, Dr. Dan had talked to the person in charge of the project and had spoken very highly of me, so much so, that they went ahead with getting me enrolled as an official volunteer with the organization based on the information Dr Dan had supplied to them from my medical records. The man also said that he had my ID, visa and information kit that Dr. Dan would give me at the airport. He told me to pack VERY light suggesting a small duffle bag for what few clothes that I would need and to leave everything electrical at home as there was no electricity at the remote village.
Things were moving so fast I didn’t have time to take it all in. I wasn’t even sure I could go on this trip, yet here I was already signed up! Boy, was my husband going to be cross with me when he finds out that I did all this without discussing it with him first.
Just then I heard the front door opening and in walked my husband. I was in for it now.
He gave me a big hug and stepped back while holding my hands and spoke enthusiastically, “Hey, I heard about your trip to Africa! How exciting! I wish I could go but work is a mess right now. What an opportunity for you though!”
“You . . . you know about it? How . . .”
“Dr. Dan called me and told me all about it and how he talked you into helping him and about how you were worried that I’d be a stick in the mud and stand in the way. Honey, you know me better than that – a stick in the mud? Puh-lease. I told everybody about it at work. It turns out I was the envy of the office and I wasn’t even the one that was going. Apparently, our company president is a huge benefactor to Trans Global Volunteers. He even called me into his office when he heard about you going from his secretary, who heard it on the grape vine and he told me that he’d have to keep an eye on me; that I was just the sort of person with the values that the company endorses that could help me go far with the firm and it was all because of you, honey!”
“You mean . . . You’re okay with me going . . . all the way to AFRICA?! BY MYSELF?” I had to stop myself from adding “with that virile young stud down the street?" I was thinking it, but I was smart enough not to say it out loud.
“Of course I am, honey. I am proud of you. You are doing a great thing here. What’s for dinner? I’m starving.” With that he just left me standing there with my mouth wide open as he went to change.
Even after he was long gone, I just stood there in shock. My husband actually said he was proud of me. Without being prompted, no less. Never in a million years did I think he would ever agree to this trip. In fact, deep down I thought his refusal was my safety net. I had planned on telling Dr. Dan and Bob that it was my husband’s fault that I couldn’t go. I could have saved face and then daydreamed about being asked without having to actually make myself do it.
My heart began to race and I felt clammy all over. What the hell just happened? I WAS GOING TO THE CONTINENT OF AFRICA to some country I had never even heard of!!! All afternoon I had been so caught up in my own fantasy of being someone important that the full impact of what that entailed hit me hard now that it was becoming a reality. I felt faint.
I hardly slept a wink as I was so nervous. With my husband pushing me along filling my mind with what he saw as a once in a lifetime opportunity, I somehow managed to let him drive me to the airport.
- - - - -
On the plane Dr. Dan told me that the village in question had been experiencing periodic cholera outbreaks because of poor sanitation. As strange as it may seem, the solution was to install a septic tank, which another group of college kids was already building and then connect it to underground drain fields near the village to prevent the tribe from using the river for dumping. Our group’s job this trip was to build toilets and showers and to get the natives used to the idea of routine bathing, getting medical inspections and vaccinations.
I still felt that I didn't have much to offer, especially after I found out that the tribe had a very low view of women. The guys both assured me that I was indeed needed and that they were sure I would adapt and fit in.
I felt good about what they were doing and I figured that the cultural differences I could deal with. That is until they told me that all of the women in the tribe were kept totally naked except for a red bandana with feathers in it and some crude leather sandals. For the most part the women rarely left the village as they had so much to do.
And, whenever a woman had reason to leave the village, she had her hands bound behind her back to prevent her escape.
I naturally protested this mistreatment of the native women, but I was reminded that we were there only to solve the cholera problem and NOT to liberate the tribe’s women.
Then a horrible thought hit me? “Um . . . you guys know that I am a woman, right?” My comment caused them to laugh. “What I mean is, I’m not going to have to be naked all the time, will I?”
Dr. Dan tried to reassure me on both of my concerns. He told me that the tribe was used to seeing Westerners and had learned that we were different. As long as we didn’t disrespect their culture, they wouldn’t disrespect ours. It was hoped that by seeing us and our ways and seeing the improvements we could bring to village life that, over time, they might adapt to our way of life. He said so far that change had been slow in coming but some progress had been made. He cautioned me in the strongest possible terms NOT to be judgmental and to try and avoid disrespecting or criticizing their tribal ways. He was most emphatic that I just accept whatever I saw as perfectly natural and unobjectionable otherwise I might be the one that undoes all the good work TGV has worked so hard to do thus far.
- - - - - -
Upon arrival after our long grueling flight, we made it through customs easily enough, thanks to Bob’s paperwork and experience. I had a little scare though as one of the customs officials inspected my luggage and made a big deal of holding up several of my panties to his coworkers, who all got a good laugh at seeing the frilly sexy under things. His motions were very animated and prolonged even prancing around to several others waving them in the air so they all could get a good look. I was embarrassed enough having the customs people ogling my intimate things but when I saw that Builder Bob and Dr. Dan were also enjoying the view, and laughing, I wanted to crawl under a rock and hide!
After several more hours of travel in an all-terrain vehicle over what I guess passed as roads in this remote area we finally arrived. The village was just like the photos Dr. Dan had showed me back at his office. They lived in primitive grass huts in a heavily forested area.
We joined other TGV volunteers who had already been there a week installing the septic system, all men, mostly college aged kids except for Dr. Dan who was my age and of course me, the only women in the volunteer group. We were all to stay in the same primitive hut constructed by other TGV volunteers on a previous trip. The tribe was indeed very courteous and welcoming. I was uncomfortable learning I was going to sleep with 6 young men in the same small hut, but my body thought differently and seemed to welcome the idea.
Builder Bob, as he was even called by the natives and Dr Dan were somewhat fluent in the language and dialect of the Tribe and all communication was handled through them. I say “somewhat” fluent as it seemed extensive use of hand gestures were an important part of filling in any gaps in the language and supplementing their understanding. The native food was actually good, though we religiously used the bottled water that we had brought with us for drinking and washing utensils. During down time, I enjoyed entertaining the children and watching the women cook and go about their daily chores – all naked, of course which was disconcerting to me. The men wore loin cloths thank goodness and a few of the tribal men also wore primitive-looking vests which was probably a status thing, but the women just let it all hang out.
I got many curious looks from both the tribal men and women, which I surmised was based on the fact that, as a woman, I was fully dressed. I suspected that they didn’t get to see many Western women in this remote area. I couldn’t help but wonder if I was the first one! The fact that I had shoulder length blonde hair and fair white skin only added to their curiosity marking me as “different” from the rest of the tribal women.
Dr. Dan used me as an assistant in the infirmary that he set up getting supplies that he needed and helping to hold an uncooperative child while inoculating them. It was really VERY rewarding work and I was glad that I found the courage to come along. At the end of each day, I was exhausted.
There were only 7 TGV volunteers – 6 men and me - on this trip and we all slept communal style in hammocks that hung from the walls. Being surrounded by all those virile muscular guys was a bit exciting but, aside from the occasional good-natured sexist jokes here and there to relive tension, it had been a great experience so far.
It was awkward seeing the women of all ages completely naked – all women except me, of course and that was still very unnerving. It didn’t take long for it to become apparent to me that the men in the tribe seemed puzzled that we allowed "our woman" to wear clothes and run around without a male escort. I was starred at a lot with what I took to be disapproving looks but, in fairness, they could have been looks of curiosity I suppose. After all I suspected it was rare for them to see a modern Western woman dressed like I was doing the work of men. Still, they were friendly and helpful to me, though it was obvious their own women weren’t afforded such polite deference.
When Builder Bob and his college guys finished constructing the sewage pipes, lavatories and bathing facilities, it seemed to be fascinating to the tribe as they had no idea what these structures were. As I had already painfully learned with first-hand experience, clearly “going in the bushes” or worse, “going in the river,” was the norm here and they didn’t see the need for all this stuff and some serious education on the necessity of changing their sanitation habits was needed if their health was to be improved.
It was clear it was going to take a fair amount of effort to get the tribe to use the toilets we installed, but apparently it was even going to be more difficult to get them to use the showers or submit to the medical exams. The chief insisted that we demonstrate this newfangled stuff. He even suggested, jokingly I hoped, that I should be the first, since, if something went wrong, it wouldn't be much of a loss.
The next day Dr. Dan was told by the chief that after much discussion from the tribal elders that they definitely were insisting that I be the first person to demonstrate the new facilities as they weren’t sure what was involved or even if they wanted to bother with it at all. They distrusted the modern looking devices. I kept shaking my head “no,” totally at a loss for words.
The guys called Dr. Dan and I aside and Bob explained that he was at that meeting with the chief the previous night and that he had thought he had persuaded them to try out the showers and that he told the Chief that he should lead by example and be the first to take a shower and go through a medical comprehensive exam. Bob thought everything was settled but this morning he found out that apparently, after much discussion with the elders after he left, that the consensus was that it was foolish to risk the life of their leader on something so strange and the women unanimously with refused to go through with the exam by a strange man. There was nothing wrong in their eyes with the old ways they have used for years. The only way they would agree to it was if “our woman” went through it first as they looked on. The thinking was that if it was really safe then we shouldn’t be afraid to do it first. After all, I was only a woman of no consequence if things went bad.
I began to get a little nervous but Dr. Dan said that he wanted to have a private word with the chief. He was sure he could work something out and he could explain how these things would keep them from getting sick and dying.
We all returned to our hut and several hours passed. It was beginning to look like things weren’t going to be as easy as Dr. Dan had thought.
More time passed. Then more time went by. Occasional laughing could be heard from the Chief’s hut which I took to be a good sign but the meeting seemed to drag on.
Finally, Dr. Dan returned looking rather defeated and disappointed. “Damn it all,” he said angrily. “All of our hard work for nothing. I just can’t believe this.”
Bob and the others gathered around wanting to know what happened but Dr. Dan just sat there looking out at nothing in particular as if in deep thought. No one dared interrupt this awkward silence.
Finally, he looked at me and let out a sigh and in a forlorn soft voice said, “Tami, I should never have talked you into coming.”
“Why? What’s happening? What’s wrong?”
“The chief says that if we aren’t willing to do as they ask and have you demonstrate what we want the tribe to do, then we can just pack up and leave and not come back. They will see our hesitation as not dealing with them honestly – that we are up to something or don’t believe in what we are saying. Our failure to accede to their demands reinforces their distrust.”
“Oh . . .” I said softly. “I see . . .”
Dr. Dan shook his head. There is a lot riding on this to be sure and naturally I’ll not force you to comply.”
After some period of silence, I spoke up, “I don’t mind. I see how hard you all have worked and how primitive their culture and their simple life is here and I believe the changes you all have made can make a big difference. I’ll do it.”
“That’s very nice of you but there is something you should know. While I suspect that the chief is being honest in his concerns, the chief also said that the men of the tribe had told him that they had never seen a naked white woman before and were looking forward to seeing one. That sounded a little creepy to me.”
My heart began to beat a little faster and I felt that familiar tingle ‘down there.’ I stood there silently trying to collect my thoughts until I heard myself speak out, “I understand and I still think it’s important to continue your work with the tribe. I know men will be men but the women here are apparently also concerned about what we are asking them to do and I think I owe it to them to help improve their lot in life. I may not be able to fix all of their problems socially but I can help you to improve their health. If a little demonstration to the chief and a few women will help allay their fears, a little embarrassment on my part will be worth it don’t you think?”
I could see from the expression on his face that Dr. Dan was very proud of me at that moment. This tribe and the work he had done for them over the years was obviously very important to him. I was glad to help. Little did I know what I was getting myself into.
Dr. Dan and Bob went back and continued their dialog with the chief. When they had finished it was getting quite late and the women still had the evening meal to prepare for, so it was decided to schedule the demonstration for the next morning.
- - - - -
BY: Hooked6
Copyright January 2022 by Hooked6 (Hooked6@hotmail.com) all rights reserved. Reproduction, redistribution, reposting on another Internet site whether or not a charge or profit is made is forbidden without the expressed written consent of the author. All characters are over 18.
Author’s note: This story is a spin-off of “Going Native” by Joe Doe and the character Builder Bob and parts of the story concept and village are used with the gracious permission of Joe Doe. This story takes place several years after the original story and the plot ultimately evolves in a radically different manner from the original. I do hope I do justice to his marvelous idea. It is not necessary to read "Going Native" to understand and enjoy this spin-off as it stands on its own but the original is quite interesting.
Chapter 1 Part A
I was bored. I was a 35-year-old stay at home housewife. With my sons all grown and leading lives of their own away from home at college and my husband busy accomplishing fulfilling things with his career, I began to think that there had to be something more that I could do with my life – something much more interesting than just being a housewife. Since I had my children very early in life, I was still young and attractive and full of energy but I was stuck in a rut at home.
During this time of sitting on my little pity-pot, we had a new neighbor move in down the street named Bob. He was a former member of the Peace Corps and now did short-term volunteer work for some new organization in under-developed countries in addition to his main job which earned him a living.
To make a long story short, we ran into each other in Walmart the other day and we got to talking. He was excited about his latest upcoming trip to help improve sanitation in a remote African village and to bring donated medical and school supplies to the village’s inhabitants.
It all sounded so interesting – actually DOING something to improve the lives of those whose daily existence was dismal; fraught with hardship and without hope. Here was somebody that I actually knew making a small but meaningful difference in the world. I wished I could do something like that.
“Say, Tami, why don’t you come with us. We are only going to be gone 10 days and we do have a vacancy. The Trans Global Volunteers organization (TGV) would cover your expenses. It is a great opportunity to expand your horizons and see people and places ordinary people never dream of. I am sure that I could arrange everything. We can sure use another pair of hands. What do you say?”
He must have seen the excitement in my eyes as he was talking. It all sounded so . . . so . . . exciting. Here was an opportunity to actually make a difference and I knew this was just the thing to relieve my mini-depression. But, as usual of late, self-doubts and negative thinking took over my thoughts. I was rather timid in dealing with other people and, well, in taking risks in general.
“Oh, I couldn’t do anything like that. Besides, it sounds so dangerous.”
“On the contrary, we have been to this village many times doing various projects and it is quite safe and we are made to feel most welcome by the tribe. Of course, you might feel a bit of culture shock being so used to all the creature comforts and luxuries you have here in Tampa, and I understand that someone as upper middle-class as you are might not want to get her hands a little dirty. Oh well, it was just a thought.”
His comments cut me to the quick. “Hey, I don’t mind a bit of hard work. I take care of a self-absorbed husband, don’t I? I was just worried about, well you know, my safety – Africa? It sounds very unsafe, especially for young, attractive and desirable woman like myself.” (Okay, I was flirting a bit, but at that moment Bob was so attractive and manly looking with his rugged appearance and his unselfish work on behalf of the unfortunate was warming my heart.)
He put his hand on my arm and said, “I can assure you that it is quite safe. You don’t have to take my word for it. You know Dr Dan Westin, don’t you? The Family Doctor? I think your husband mentioned him a while back.”
Dr Dan was indeed our family doctor and took care of my boys as they grew up. I liked him a lot. “Yes, I know him.” I replied.
“Well, he’s our medical advisor for this trip and will be going with us. He has been to this village several times. Why don’t you ask him if the trip is safe? Tami, I am not trying to be pushy or anything but we could really use your help and there isn’t really time to find anyone else as most of our regular volunteers are already committed to other projects.”
“But I don’t really have any skills that you could use. I’m just a housewife. I don’t know anything about construction or sanitation and I am certainly not a nurse or anything. I don’t see how . . .”
“You can move boxes, distribute food and supplies to the women and children, do a little paperwork, take photos documenting what we did; You can do those things, right? You’d be surprised how valuable you can be. Why even a ‘go-fer’ is a welcome pair of hands. We will show you what to do. I promise you that you will come back with such a positive sense of well-being and a whole new outlook on life. There is no feeling quite like helping your fellow man.”
The more Bob talked, the more I knew that this was just what I needed to take me out of the dumps and feel alive again.
I told him I was interested but still had reservations and that I would give Dr. Dan a call that day and get back with him. As we left to go our separate ways, I knew in my heart that my husband would NEVER let me go on such a trip. Still, there was no harm in researching things a little. Even that would be exciting even if nothing ever came of it.
- - - - -
I took a chance and dropped by Dr. Dan’s office and to my surprise he was able to see me. He was most encouraging. He assured me that the trip was safer than walking around downtown Tampa during the daytime. He showed me some pictures he had of a previous trip to the village. It was small and primitive but not threatening or disgusting looking. Like Builder Bob, as he called his friend and my neighbor, he strongly encouraged me to go. He also said that he would have a word with my husband to allay any fears he might have – especially since Bob was not only new to our neighborhood but that he was young and ruggedly handsome as well. He said he would assure my husband that he had nothing to worry about and that he would look after me and gave me some pamphlets on the Trans Global Volunteers organization.
I was so excited after leaving his office that I could hardly stand it. I wasn’t sure what I was going to say or how or even IF I was going to broach the subject to my husband, but I was determined to give it a try.
As I was waiting for my husband to come home, I got a call from the organization informing me that my trip had been approved and my tickets had been arranged and would be waiting for me at the airport. Apparently, Dr. Dan had talked to the person in charge of the project and had spoken very highly of me, so much so, that they went ahead with getting me enrolled as an official volunteer with the organization based on the information Dr Dan had supplied to them from my medical records. The man also said that he had my ID, visa and information kit that Dr. Dan would give me at the airport. He told me to pack VERY light suggesting a small duffle bag for what few clothes that I would need and to leave everything electrical at home as there was no electricity at the remote village.
Things were moving so fast I didn’t have time to take it all in. I wasn’t even sure I could go on this trip, yet here I was already signed up! Boy, was my husband going to be cross with me when he finds out that I did all this without discussing it with him first.
Just then I heard the front door opening and in walked my husband. I was in for it now.
He gave me a big hug and stepped back while holding my hands and spoke enthusiastically, “Hey, I heard about your trip to Africa! How exciting! I wish I could go but work is a mess right now. What an opportunity for you though!”
“You . . . you know about it? How . . .”
“Dr. Dan called me and told me all about it and how he talked you into helping him and about how you were worried that I’d be a stick in the mud and stand in the way. Honey, you know me better than that – a stick in the mud? Puh-lease. I told everybody about it at work. It turns out I was the envy of the office and I wasn’t even the one that was going. Apparently, our company president is a huge benefactor to Trans Global Volunteers. He even called me into his office when he heard about you going from his secretary, who heard it on the grape vine and he told me that he’d have to keep an eye on me; that I was just the sort of person with the values that the company endorses that could help me go far with the firm and it was all because of you, honey!”
“You mean . . . You’re okay with me going . . . all the way to AFRICA?! BY MYSELF?” I had to stop myself from adding “with that virile young stud down the street?" I was thinking it, but I was smart enough not to say it out loud.
“Of course I am, honey. I am proud of you. You are doing a great thing here. What’s for dinner? I’m starving.” With that he just left me standing there with my mouth wide open as he went to change.
Even after he was long gone, I just stood there in shock. My husband actually said he was proud of me. Without being prompted, no less. Never in a million years did I think he would ever agree to this trip. In fact, deep down I thought his refusal was my safety net. I had planned on telling Dr. Dan and Bob that it was my husband’s fault that I couldn’t go. I could have saved face and then daydreamed about being asked without having to actually make myself do it.
My heart began to race and I felt clammy all over. What the hell just happened? I WAS GOING TO THE CONTINENT OF AFRICA to some country I had never even heard of!!! All afternoon I had been so caught up in my own fantasy of being someone important that the full impact of what that entailed hit me hard now that it was becoming a reality. I felt faint.
I hardly slept a wink as I was so nervous. With my husband pushing me along filling my mind with what he saw as a once in a lifetime opportunity, I somehow managed to let him drive me to the airport.
- - - - -
On the plane Dr. Dan told me that the village in question had been experiencing periodic cholera outbreaks because of poor sanitation. As strange as it may seem, the solution was to install a septic tank, which another group of college kids was already building and then connect it to underground drain fields near the village to prevent the tribe from using the river for dumping. Our group’s job this trip was to build toilets and showers and to get the natives used to the idea of routine bathing, getting medical inspections and vaccinations.
I still felt that I didn't have much to offer, especially after I found out that the tribe had a very low view of women. The guys both assured me that I was indeed needed and that they were sure I would adapt and fit in.
I felt good about what they were doing and I figured that the cultural differences I could deal with. That is until they told me that all of the women in the tribe were kept totally naked except for a red bandana with feathers in it and some crude leather sandals. For the most part the women rarely left the village as they had so much to do.
And, whenever a woman had reason to leave the village, she had her hands bound behind her back to prevent her escape.
I naturally protested this mistreatment of the native women, but I was reminded that we were there only to solve the cholera problem and NOT to liberate the tribe’s women.
Then a horrible thought hit me? “Um . . . you guys know that I am a woman, right?” My comment caused them to laugh. “What I mean is, I’m not going to have to be naked all the time, will I?”
Dr. Dan tried to reassure me on both of my concerns. He told me that the tribe was used to seeing Westerners and had learned that we were different. As long as we didn’t disrespect their culture, they wouldn’t disrespect ours. It was hoped that by seeing us and our ways and seeing the improvements we could bring to village life that, over time, they might adapt to our way of life. He said so far that change had been slow in coming but some progress had been made. He cautioned me in the strongest possible terms NOT to be judgmental and to try and avoid disrespecting or criticizing their tribal ways. He was most emphatic that I just accept whatever I saw as perfectly natural and unobjectionable otherwise I might be the one that undoes all the good work TGV has worked so hard to do thus far.
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Upon arrival after our long grueling flight, we made it through customs easily enough, thanks to Bob’s paperwork and experience. I had a little scare though as one of the customs officials inspected my luggage and made a big deal of holding up several of my panties to his coworkers, who all got a good laugh at seeing the frilly sexy under things. His motions were very animated and prolonged even prancing around to several others waving them in the air so they all could get a good look. I was embarrassed enough having the customs people ogling my intimate things but when I saw that Builder Bob and Dr. Dan were also enjoying the view, and laughing, I wanted to crawl under a rock and hide!
After several more hours of travel in an all-terrain vehicle over what I guess passed as roads in this remote area we finally arrived. The village was just like the photos Dr. Dan had showed me back at his office. They lived in primitive grass huts in a heavily forested area.
We joined other TGV volunteers who had already been there a week installing the septic system, all men, mostly college aged kids except for Dr. Dan who was my age and of course me, the only women in the volunteer group. We were all to stay in the same primitive hut constructed by other TGV volunteers on a previous trip. The tribe was indeed very courteous and welcoming. I was uncomfortable learning I was going to sleep with 6 young men in the same small hut, but my body thought differently and seemed to welcome the idea.
Builder Bob, as he was even called by the natives and Dr Dan were somewhat fluent in the language and dialect of the Tribe and all communication was handled through them. I say “somewhat” fluent as it seemed extensive use of hand gestures were an important part of filling in any gaps in the language and supplementing their understanding. The native food was actually good, though we religiously used the bottled water that we had brought with us for drinking and washing utensils. During down time, I enjoyed entertaining the children and watching the women cook and go about their daily chores – all naked, of course which was disconcerting to me. The men wore loin cloths thank goodness and a few of the tribal men also wore primitive-looking vests which was probably a status thing, but the women just let it all hang out.
I got many curious looks from both the tribal men and women, which I surmised was based on the fact that, as a woman, I was fully dressed. I suspected that they didn’t get to see many Western women in this remote area. I couldn’t help but wonder if I was the first one! The fact that I had shoulder length blonde hair and fair white skin only added to their curiosity marking me as “different” from the rest of the tribal women.
Dr. Dan used me as an assistant in the infirmary that he set up getting supplies that he needed and helping to hold an uncooperative child while inoculating them. It was really VERY rewarding work and I was glad that I found the courage to come along. At the end of each day, I was exhausted.
There were only 7 TGV volunteers – 6 men and me - on this trip and we all slept communal style in hammocks that hung from the walls. Being surrounded by all those virile muscular guys was a bit exciting but, aside from the occasional good-natured sexist jokes here and there to relive tension, it had been a great experience so far.
It was awkward seeing the women of all ages completely naked – all women except me, of course and that was still very unnerving. It didn’t take long for it to become apparent to me that the men in the tribe seemed puzzled that we allowed "our woman" to wear clothes and run around without a male escort. I was starred at a lot with what I took to be disapproving looks but, in fairness, they could have been looks of curiosity I suppose. After all I suspected it was rare for them to see a modern Western woman dressed like I was doing the work of men. Still, they were friendly and helpful to me, though it was obvious their own women weren’t afforded such polite deference.
When Builder Bob and his college guys finished constructing the sewage pipes, lavatories and bathing facilities, it seemed to be fascinating to the tribe as they had no idea what these structures were. As I had already painfully learned with first-hand experience, clearly “going in the bushes” or worse, “going in the river,” was the norm here and they didn’t see the need for all this stuff and some serious education on the necessity of changing their sanitation habits was needed if their health was to be improved.
It was clear it was going to take a fair amount of effort to get the tribe to use the toilets we installed, but apparently it was even going to be more difficult to get them to use the showers or submit to the medical exams. The chief insisted that we demonstrate this newfangled stuff. He even suggested, jokingly I hoped, that I should be the first, since, if something went wrong, it wouldn't be much of a loss.
The next day Dr. Dan was told by the chief that after much discussion from the tribal elders that they definitely were insisting that I be the first person to demonstrate the new facilities as they weren’t sure what was involved or even if they wanted to bother with it at all. They distrusted the modern looking devices. I kept shaking my head “no,” totally at a loss for words.
The guys called Dr. Dan and I aside and Bob explained that he was at that meeting with the chief the previous night and that he had thought he had persuaded them to try out the showers and that he told the Chief that he should lead by example and be the first to take a shower and go through a medical comprehensive exam. Bob thought everything was settled but this morning he found out that apparently, after much discussion with the elders after he left, that the consensus was that it was foolish to risk the life of their leader on something so strange and the women unanimously with refused to go through with the exam by a strange man. There was nothing wrong in their eyes with the old ways they have used for years. The only way they would agree to it was if “our woman” went through it first as they looked on. The thinking was that if it was really safe then we shouldn’t be afraid to do it first. After all, I was only a woman of no consequence if things went bad.
I began to get a little nervous but Dr. Dan said that he wanted to have a private word with the chief. He was sure he could work something out and he could explain how these things would keep them from getting sick and dying.
We all returned to our hut and several hours passed. It was beginning to look like things weren’t going to be as easy as Dr. Dan had thought.
More time passed. Then more time went by. Occasional laughing could be heard from the Chief’s hut which I took to be a good sign but the meeting seemed to drag on.
Finally, Dr. Dan returned looking rather defeated and disappointed. “Damn it all,” he said angrily. “All of our hard work for nothing. I just can’t believe this.”
Bob and the others gathered around wanting to know what happened but Dr. Dan just sat there looking out at nothing in particular as if in deep thought. No one dared interrupt this awkward silence.
Finally, he looked at me and let out a sigh and in a forlorn soft voice said, “Tami, I should never have talked you into coming.”
“Why? What’s happening? What’s wrong?”
“The chief says that if we aren’t willing to do as they ask and have you demonstrate what we want the tribe to do, then we can just pack up and leave and not come back. They will see our hesitation as not dealing with them honestly – that we are up to something or don’t believe in what we are saying. Our failure to accede to their demands reinforces their distrust.”
“Oh . . .” I said softly. “I see . . .”
Dr. Dan shook his head. There is a lot riding on this to be sure and naturally I’ll not force you to comply.”
After some period of silence, I spoke up, “I don’t mind. I see how hard you all have worked and how primitive their culture and their simple life is here and I believe the changes you all have made can make a big difference. I’ll do it.”
“That’s very nice of you but there is something you should know. While I suspect that the chief is being honest in his concerns, the chief also said that the men of the tribe had told him that they had never seen a naked white woman before and were looking forward to seeing one. That sounded a little creepy to me.”
My heart began to beat a little faster and I felt that familiar tingle ‘down there.’ I stood there silently trying to collect my thoughts until I heard myself speak out, “I understand and I still think it’s important to continue your work with the tribe. I know men will be men but the women here are apparently also concerned about what we are asking them to do and I think I owe it to them to help improve their lot in life. I may not be able to fix all of their problems socially but I can help you to improve their health. If a little demonstration to the chief and a few women will help allay their fears, a little embarrassment on my part will be worth it don’t you think?”
I could see from the expression on his face that Dr. Dan was very proud of me at that moment. This tribe and the work he had done for them over the years was obviously very important to him. I was glad to help. Little did I know what I was getting myself into.
Dr. Dan and Bob went back and continued their dialog with the chief. When they had finished it was getting quite late and the women still had the evening meal to prepare for, so it was decided to schedule the demonstration for the next morning.
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