Lonely is the Night, When You Find Yourself Alone...

My classmates in the MDP program at SIPA have come to expect certain types of questions from me when fieldworkers or international NGO workers come to talk to us. These questions are usually along the lines of: "What about the mental health of development practitioners?" When I asked this question recently, I had a multi-decade aid veteran avoid it for a while and later say that I should seek psychological help (he was kidding... but if he knew me better, he may have been serious!) Now, all joking aside, the psychological and mental well-being of aid and development workers is often over-looked. When it is an issue, it is usually in humanitarian crises where aid workers have seen horrific images and may suffer from PTSD. But I feel that mental health issues are serious for all aid and development practitioners, regardless of background (i.e. both expats and national staff) or context. That is why it was heartening to see Alessandra Pigni's post on psychological needs of aid workers (an entire series in fact) (crossposted on WhyDev).

So why do I think mental health and well-being is often over-looked in development work? Again, people tend to focus on the truly horrific images that some workers endure; they ignore mundane everyday occurrences. Development workers should be ready to deal with seeing the effects of extreme poverty daily; indeed, it is one of the driving forces in our work. But their are other issues which many people either ignore or drown in periodic binges of substance abuse.

Loneliness is the one that comes to mind most often. In the Peace Corps, I (as many PCVs) had the special experience of being completely alone yet never being alone. In other words, I was separated by my village and its inhabitants by culture, history, lack of shared experiences, families, etc...(*) Yet I was constantly surrounded by curious people (especially children). I was physically engulfed yet emotionally detached (at some level). I have only met other PCVs who understand this sort of loneliness, but I would venture to guess that it affects most people in the development and aid worlds. As I noted in a post last year on paternalism, you do not have to be a foreigner to a country to feel like an outsider in the areas where you work. Practitioners in rural villages may not have anything in common with those they work with for months. Other aid workers may be trucked from walled compound to walled compound, living a secluded lifestyle with the same friends for years. Loneliness and other signs of depression can take many forms in our line of work. Therefore it is important to be on the lookout for these signs in yourself and others, and to develop strong coping mechanisms. In Madagascar, such mechanisms included playing with kids, taking long walks, talking with friends, dancing, and most importantly establishing a strong support network. That last point is the most important, I think, for development workers' mental health while in the field (and anywhere else): You need a strong personal and professional support network to survive!

Coping.

(*) - Now, I fit in pretty well for an awkward tall white guy in rural Madagascar. I had close friends and made constant efforts to be a part of life in my villages. Yet there was always a disconnect at some level, and it made true engagement very difficult.