Signing Up

This is the first in a series of six posts about how I joined the Peace Corps in the summer of 2002 and ended up in Turkmenistan, one of the old Soviet republics nestled between Iran, Afghanistan, and Uzbekistan in Central Asia.

I was nearing the end of administering a community college grant project in the spring of 2002 and decided to try and fulfill my lifelong dream of serving in the Peace Corps, although I was well past the typical post-college age of a volunteer.

After doing some Internet research and discussing the idea with my wife, I decided to see if I could get a posting in Russia.

I started the long application process and enrolled in a Russian-language course at the school where I was working. I had previously set aside at least what I thought was enough money to augment the financial needs of my wife (who works full time) and my son (who was attending school on a combination of athletic and academic scholarships, parental help, some part-time work, and a small educational loan).

It's probably worth pointing out at this time, that while older persons are not discouraged from Peace Corps service, the application process becomes rather more complicated the more "life experience" you have.

Health questions alone create lots of stumbling blocks, assuming you answer them honestly. If you've ever had a cough that lasted for more than a few days -- you're headed for a chest x-ray. If you've ever talked to a mental health professional for any reason (even to support your loved ones) -- you've got to track them down and have them submit a letter that you're not crazy.

Fortunately, I was in pretty good physcial shape and had no criminal history. But, I can imagine what a mess it would have been if I had been arrested as a kid for some minor offense.

In any case, I waded through the paperwork and finally got my interview (by phone) with a real recruiter, where we discussed assignment options. As it turned out, the timing would be perfect for me to enter the program for Eastern Russia. (Russia is so big it was split into two divisions, with the one I was headed for operating out of Vladivostok.)

I was in heaven and started reading the English-language version of the Vladivostok Times -- new factory opens; criminals slaughter police/business owners/family of business owners, family of police; and my favorite, "First Siberian Tiger Attack of the Season."

Then, things got a bit dicey. The Russians were pretty sensitive about being considered a "developing country" and started to balk about letting in a new group of Peace Corps workers. This was followed by complaints that many of the volunteers weren't really qualified to do their jobs (something I learned to have some appreciation for). Finally, there were the fears that Peace Corps workers were really spies working for the CIA.

So, after I had given notice at my job and after they had already sent me a plane ticket for the trip, the Peace Corps began delaying my starting date -- usually a week or two at a time.

Meanwhile, as the summer slipped by, I missed out on other options, such as serving in Ukraine.

At one point, the Russian government went over the background information on the volunteers scheduled to serve and said they only wanted a handful of them. I was one of those they picked. So, I figured it was a done deal.

But, as time wore on, it became apparent to me that Russia was never going to allow in a new group of Peace Corps volunteers.

So, I called back my friendly recruiter and asked him if he had any country where I might be able to use the little Russian I had learned.

I got offered several of the "...stan" countries that used to comprise the southern border of the old Soviet Union, and I picked Turkmenistan, because it seemed the most interesting -- primarily because of its enigmatic leader Saparmyrat Turkmenbashi The Great.

The pictures at top right are my Peace Corps identity cards in Russian and Turkmen, and, along with my U.S. passport, allowed me as much freedom as is possible in that strange desert country.