Before returning to the US, all volunteers must undergo one last medical check to insure that we don’t bring any fun new parasites or diseases back to the home country. After a series of blood tests, stool samples, and cotton swabs, we are given the American seal of approval and shipped back stateside. But from what I’ve experienced so far, there is one thing they forgot to test for: PCD, the Peace Corps Disorder. It’s similar to OCD, in that you find yourself doing things that you know aren’t really necessary but that you feel you must do nonetheless, but the difference is that these are habits that you picked up during your service. Here’s a list of some of my own PCD habits that I’ve noticed:
- Before sitting on the toilet, I turn on the water in the sink for a second. This habit made sense in Peru, because if the water wasn’t on I would have to go grab a bucket of water from the other side of the house to manually flush the toilet. After a couple of weeks in country, I forced myself to stop doing this, but it still makes me a little anxious to use the bathroom without the test-run in the sink.
- Every time I use the restroom, I am acutely aware of the location of the trashcan. Peru’s sewage system is not able to handle toilet paper, and therefore you throw it into the wastebasket instead of the toilet. After training myself to throw it away automatically, I am now un-learning that lesson. Thankfully, fishing toilet paper out of a trashcan is much easier than correcting a breach of toilet paper etiquette in Peru.
- In Peru, many items that are commonplace here are incredibly valuable to the volunteers. Ziplock bags are one example. Here, you can pick them up for next to nothing at your local grocery store. Not so in my last place of residence, where we would cherish the baggies that were included in a package from the US and use said bag for all kinds of things over the next two years, until the plastic had long since stopped being clear and seal at the top had been canceled out by the many holes on the sides. Each time I open the kitchen drawer and see that little box of sandwich-sized bags, I have to fight the urge to take some and hide them in my room, just in case we run out at some point.
- I haven’t quite adjusted to having such easy access to the internet at all times. Every time I am walking down the hall of my parents’ house, I catch a glimpse of the computer out of the corner of my eye and get an urgent need to check my email. When you live in a town without internet, you take the opportunity to get online whenever you can, especially if you’ve found a place where you can check it for free. It is almost painful to walk away from it, despite the fact that I know it will still be there, free and available, whenever I want to use it.
- Having lived in a desert where water is a precious commodity, letting the water run while I wash the dishes still makes me nervous, like I am going to get caught and punished for being so irresponsible. I just can’t seem to get over how much water I am using to clean a single dish.
These are just a few of the PCD moments that I have on a daily basis. Clearly, this is a condition that should be studied by health professionals everywhere. If you or any of your loved ones have experienced similar symptoms, let me know. I’m thinking about starting up a support group to help deal with the stress of living with PCD and to promote understanding of this very real disorder.
Before returning to the US, all volunteers must undergo one last medical check to insure that we don’t bring any fun new parasites or diseases back to the home country. After a series of blood tests, stool samples, and cotton swabs, we are given the American seal of approval and shipped back stateside. But from what I’ve experienced so far, there is one thing they forgot to test for: PCD, the Peace Corps Disorder. It’s similar to OCD, in that you find yourself doing things that you know aren’t really necessary but that you feel you must do nonetheless, but the difference is that these are habits that you picked up during your service. Here’s a few of my own PCD habits that I’ve noticed:
- Before sitting on the toilet, I turn on the water in the sink for a second. This habit made sense in Peru, because if the water wasn’t on I would have to go grab a bucket of water from the other side of the house to manually flush the toilet. After a couple of weeks in country, I forced myself to stop doing this, but it still makes me a little anxious to use the bathroom without the test-run in the sink.
- Every time I use the restroom, I am acutely aware of the location of the trashcan. Peru’s sewage system is not able to handle toilet paper, and therefore you throw it into the wastebasket instead of the toilet. After training myself to throw it away automatically, I am now un-learning that lesson. Thankfully, fishing toilet paper out of a trashcan is much easier than correcting a breach of TP etiquette in Peru.
- As a volunteer, many items that are commonplace here are incredibly valuable. Ziplock bags are one example. Here, you can pick them up for next to nothing at your local grocery store. Not so in my last place of residence, where we would cherish the baggies that were included in a package from the US and use said bag for all kinds of things over the next two years, until the plastic had long since stopped being clear and the seal at the top had been canceled out by the many holes on the sides. Each time I open the kitchen drawer and see that little box of sandwich-sized bags, I have to fight the urge to take some and hide them in my room, just in case we run out at some point.
- I haven’t quite adjusted to having such easy access to the internet at all times. Every time I am walking down the hall of my parents’ house, I catch a glimpse of the computer out of the corner of my eye and get an urgent need to check my email. When you live in a town without internet, you take the opportunity to get online whenever you can, especially if you’ve found a place where you can check it for free. It is almost painful to walk away from it, despite the fact that I know it will still be there, free and available, whenever I want to use it.
- Having lived in a desert where water is a precious commodity, letting the water run while I wash the dishes still makes me nervous, like I am going to get caught and punished for being so irresponsible. I just can’t seem to get over how much water I am using to clean a single dish.
These are just a few of the PCD moments that I have on a daily basis. Clearly, this is a condition that should be studied by health professionals everywhere. If you or any of your loved ones have experienced similar symptoms, let me know. I’m thinking about starting up a support group to help deal with the stress of living with PCD and to promote understanding of this very real disorder.
