“It's a whole other world"

Trading in his VW and comfy mattress in suburban USA, for a bike and a bamboo bed in rural West Africa, was not an easy adjustment for Justin Byrd. But a few months before his college graduation from the class of ’02, he began thinking about what he wanted to do next. He was ready for adventure and had a desire to work in an international development organization, so he decided to take a leap of faith and join the Peace Corps.

It wasn't an easy step for Justin, or his parents, who knew he might be assigned to a remote area where communication with one another would be difficult — not to mention their concern for his safety.

“Paul and I really wanted to make sure he'd thought through his decision,” his mother, Maike, recalls. They noticed that Justin had been reading the Bible and Science and Health regularly — books he often studies for guidance about life issues. This reassured them that he wasn't trying to make such a major decision on his own. “He told us he felt that this was what God wanted him to do,” says Maike. “Although Justin was filled with trepidation as he was ready to leave,” adds his dad, Paul, “we knew that he was preparing to live his faith.”

“I was incredibly nervous,” confirms Justin. But despite the uncertainty, he felt impelled to follow his heart and his love for his neighbor, even if that meant committing to living in an unknown place thousands of miles from home.

So, last September, he packed up his suitcase and one of his dad's old army duffelbags, said his goodbyes, and left his parents' comfortable home in Sudbury, Massachusetts, to begin his service in The Gambia — a small, largely Muslim country on the western coast of Africa.

As a Peace Corps volunteer in the village of Daru, Justin's life is a bit different now.

Home is a one-room mud hut with a grass roof that occasionally leaks, and also serves as a residence for numerous lizards. Aside from a bamboo bed, his only furniture is a shelf and a table, which he asked a local villager to build. There's no electricity or running water. At night Justin falls asleep with a good book by the flickering light of a lantern. Cold Cokes and showers are out. Warm, lumpy sour milk and backyard bucket baths are in — with water he's carried home from the well.

“You can't really prepare for it,” Justin says of his new life. “You go into it anticipating a number of different things nut once you get here, it's whole other world. The first two months of my service were a real struggle,” he admits. “I thought about quitting. There are so many thing facing me on a day-to-day basis — my job, cultural frustration, loneliness. And there's no magic that gets you through everything. But the fact that God's love is constant is important to me. God is Love. And to act on this love for my brother is my purpose in being here. It has given me a reason to move forward no matter what happens.”

To Justin, the qualities of love and humility are inextricably linked. “I think being able to humble yourself allows you to love,” continues Justin. “This means letting go of your will, of [thinking] ‘I need to be doing this.’ Or ‘These situations need to be happening in mu life.’ You have to just listen to God and say, ‘God, I'm here for You. I'm here to work Your plan.’ ”

His desire to do some good in the world has translated into the practical, every-day work of teaching the villagers in Daru different ways to farm and use their land. This is what the Peace Corps sent him there to do. Most of the day is dedicated to helping them grow a community orchard that will give the women in the village some income by providing them with products to sell, like mangoes and cashews, since, according to Justin, the women are the breadwinners. “Everything they make is off the land,” explains Justin. In addition, he’s started a school library in the village.

Each morning Jamma makes him a breakfast of kus, or millet, accompanied by a peanut-fish sauce — a meal he gets again for dinner. The lunch menu varies a bit with rice substituting for the millet. Jamma's family has been assigned by the Peace Corps to take care of Justin. Meals are outside, in the center of the family compound, which is a circle of five or six huts that includes Justin's. Everyone eats with his hands from his side of one communal bowl. The older men eat first. And, according to Justin, passersby always get a friendly invitation to join in on the meal.

The daytime temperatures can reach 120 degrees Fahrenheit during the hot season in April and May, so you work until 10:00 a.m. and then start up again at 4:00 or 5:00 p.m. and work until the sun goes down. Evenings are spent outside stargazing and shooting the breeze with his family, who speaks Wolof, the local language. On downtime he also takes pleasure in reading, writing letters, and playing the guitar.

A result of Justin's living and working side-by-side with his African family is the perhaps surprising realization for him that he's being benefited the most by this whole experience. “What you learn from the culture and people is twice as much as what you'll ever give,” Justin wrote in a recent e-mail from the capital, Banjul. “Living in Daru has taught me to be grateful for the smallest things. I've realized you don't need much to live and be happy... you don't need fancy things. Gambians really enjoy life. They have an ability to be really happy with what they have and what they do.”

However, for a guy who's used to creature comforts and Western culture, it goes without saying that his assignment in Daru is an extremely challenging one — not only physically, but mentally. So setting aside time for personal reflection, and, most importantly, to recharge spiritually, is a priority for Justin. Each day he finds a quiet place to study the weekly Christian Science Bible Lessons and sing inspirational songs he remembers from the Christian Science Hymnal and from his CD collection back home. “They have been bringing me comfort and strength,” he says. “It's a way I connect with God, and I consider it the most important part of my day.”

Although Justin describes Gambians as “the friendliest and most outgoing people I've ever met,” maintaining contact with his own family or “the home people,” as the Gambians would say, is also very important to him — especially when the closest fellow Peace Corps worker lives about 12 kilometers away. His occasional trips to Banjul, where he has Internet access, are his window to the world. An additional incentive for his 325-kilometer-long trek to the capital, by bush taxi, is the serendipitous possibility of discovering a cold Coke or familiar food items like green veggies, fruits, and meats, which are not found in his village. His daily diet back in Daru is something he's gotten used to, but once in a while he'd love nothing more than a juicy cheeseburger.

After living at such a different rhythm for about a year now, he has some words of wisdom for those who may be feeling stressed by their fast-paced lives.

“I know it's easy to get caught up in the daily hustle and bustle of life, as I have been getting caught up in a different kind of hustle and bustle here,” he writes. “It's all in a way the same. It's comforting to know that all I'll ever need is love — and the same goes for you.”

Justin says he may leave Daru this month ... he's just taking things a day at a time. But whatever he decides, he knows he will have had a valuable experience there. “It's definitely changed my outlook on my family and on life,” he muses. “Being on my own for so long in Daru and having to establish a home here have made me so grateful for my family back home. When you live in the US, you don't always realize how many benefits you have.”

“But wherever we are,” Justin concludes, “we all have to find our own path in life —[both] the one who grows up in the grass hut, and the one from American suburbia.”