Category Archives: Armenia

Armenia, healthcare, law, mental health

The Peace Corps is being sued over mental health policies…

The featured photo is the public domain version of the Peace Corps logo that existed when I was a Volunteer. It has since been updated, unlike the Peace Corps’ mental healthcare policies. 😉

Friday, at last! I’ve been waiting for today all week, because it means that tomorrow, we’re out of here for about ten days. I’ve been eagerly awaiting our trip for some weeks now, even though the first three nights of it will be in Germany because it’s time to see the dentist. I don’t love going to the dentist, but I don’t hate it, either. At least my teeth get nice and clean.

Facebook is telling me that we went to the dentist at this time last year, too. But last year, we stayed at a luxury hotel in Baiersbronn, which is a very pretty town in the Black Forest. I remember being stressed, because Arran was newly diagnosed with lymphoma, and I was afraid he might decompensate while we were gone. But he pulled through fine, and afterwards, we started his chemo, which gave him another five months with us. That might not seem like a significant success, but five months is a long time to a dog. And it meant that when the end of Arran’s life finally came in March, we could both be there for him. He also made it very clear to us that he wanted to live.

I think our time in Czechia is going to be great fun. The hotels we’ve booked have all contacted us with final details. I hope we find lots of art, and I’m able to take plenty of photos. The Cannstatter Volksfest is also going on right now. I just tried on my Dirndl, and I can still get into it. But I don’t think I’m going to bring it with me, because it really needs to be dry cleaned. Also, I think Bill and I are probably too old and crotchety for Wasen, even though we usually go on Sunday afternoons, when it’s not so crowded. Maybe we’ll go to Ludwigsburg instead, and see some huge pumpkins. We always seem to miss the pumpkin festival.

Yesterday, I noticed an article in The New York Times (temporarily unlocked) about the Peace Corps being sued over their mental health policies. Regular readers might remember that I served as a Volunteer in the Republic of Armenia for the Peace Corps from 1995 until 1997. Things have clearly changed a lot since my days as a Volunteer. In my day, you didn’t get your invitation to serve until you’d successfully passed the legal and medical clearances. From reading up on this lawsuit, I gather that prospective Volunteers can now get invited before they finish medical screenings. This policy is causing problems for a lot of people, hence the lawsuit.

It’s not that simple, folks.

According to the article in The New York Times, a group of three people, whose placement offers were rescinded over mental health treatment, have decided to sue the agency. They accuse the Peace Corps of “discriminating against applicants with disabilities in violation of the Rehabilitation Act, which prohibits discrimination in programs receiving federal funds.” Further from the article:

The lawsuit, which is seeking class-action status from the U.S. District Court for the District of Columbia, includes accounts from nine people whose Peace Corps invitations were rescinded for mental health reasons. The suit alleges that those decisions were made without considering reasonable accommodations or making individualized assessments based on current medical knowledge.

I was interested in this story because when I was a Peace Corps Volunteer, I totally suffered from clinical depression and anxiety. I did not get treatment for it until about a year after I left Armenia. In my case, depression and anxiety were chronic parts of my life that were so normal to me that I didn’t realize I was suffering as much as I had been for most of my life. It got pretty bad in 1998, when I was feeling really hopeless and worthless. Some of it was because of my service, but most of it had to do with genetics and having to live with my parents while I picked up my life.

Mental health treatment was a lifesaver and a game changer for me. It was a huge shock to me when we finally found the right antidepressant and I started feeling “normal”, for the first time. I stopped crying and hyperventilating at the drop of a hat. I stopped feeling worthless and hopeless. Indeed, four days after I took my first dose of Wellbutrin, I decided to go to graduate school, and I started taking decisive steps to make it happen. Within a few months, I had offers of admission to two universities.

I quit taking antidepressants in 2004. For the most part, I don’t miss taking them, although I gained weight when I got off of the drugs. I have been pretty stable, mentally speaking, for a long time. I’ve managed to finish two master’s degrees, and am about to celebrate 21 years of marriage to a great guy who treats me like gold.

However, after reading the article in the New York Times, as well as some anecdotes from other former Volunteers and applicants, I feel pretty sure that I would fail the medical part if I decided to reapply to the Peace Corps today, even though mentally, I’m a lot more stable. I am also a hell of lot more mature and experienced today, than I was in 1995. I’m sure I would be a better Volunteer today, in spite of my mental health treatment history.

I would probably fail the medical clearance due to having a history of mental health treatment, but I might also fail it for physical reasons. They gave me a lot of grief in 1995 because of my weight, which was less then than it is today. After sending me a nastygram about my weight, they did ultimately let me serve. I didn’t have any serious medical problems to speak of during those two years, nor have I had any in the 26 years following my service. I’ve also seen photos of recent Volunteers and it looks to me like maybe they’ve backed off somewhat from weight standards. Some of the people serving today are clearly bigger than I was in 1995.

The comments on this story are pretty divided. Quite a lot of people, including former Volunteers, think the Peace Corps should be very selective about allowing people with mental health histories to serve. They point to the fact that Volunteers are sent all over the world, and a lot of the countries they go to have very primitive healthcare facilities that can take hours to get to by public transportation. I got that.

However, I also know, from my own personal experience, that not every Volunteer lives in a jungle or a mud hut, nor are they all isolated from each other. Accommodations of all kinds vary widely in the countries where the Peace Corps serves. While certainly not every place has cell phone or Internet access, quite a lot of countries do have those technologies today. That can make treatment more feasible for Volunteers who need counseling. And in other countries, there’s really nothing easily available… so those places should get the healthiest Volunteers. Common sense, you see…

Armenia, where I served, was considered a “hardship” post in the 1990s. In those days, it really was a “true” Peace Corps location, although it wasn’t like the experiences someone might have in Africa or South America. Every country has its challenges, though… and some locations are tougher or more austere than others are. Armenia still has a Peace Corps program, although Volunteers don’t serve in the capital anymore. I was based in the capital, where I could get help somewhat easily if I needed it. I mean, I couldn’t even call someone across the street with my rotary dial phone, but I could easily walk or take a bus to the Peace Corps office. Armenia is the size of Maryland. If I’d been in a much larger country, it would have been a different story.

Granted, the Peace Corps is a vastly underfunded agency. Even though I know firsthand how valuable the work is, and how it helps foster trust and relations between US citizens and host country nationals, most Americans have no idea. I noticed a lot of people who clearly knew nothing about the Peace Corps opining on the article. A couple of people were bold enough to state that the Peace Corps is a waste of money, since the US shouldn’t be trying to “save the world”. They don’t understand that the Peace Corps has three goals:

I talk about Armenia all the time. I even spoke to one of Bill’s colleagues about Armenia recently, to help her understand the country that our military is now being tasked to help. I’ve also talked to school kids as well as people in the community about my service. And God knows I’ve written a lot about about it. I truly can’t say my time in Armenia was wasted. In fact, it changed my life and my perspective.

I do think it’s prudent to screen potential Volunteers for health issues of all kinds. I also agree that serving in the Peace Corps is a privilege and an honor, and not a right to all US tax paying comers. BUT… I also know that any agency affiliated with the US government, including the military, has very antiquated policies regarding mental healthcare. And I think that ought to change. I think it will HAVE to change, because there’s been a lot of work done to destigmatize accessing mental healthcare in the United States. More people than ever are seeking services to treat minor mental health crises.

In 2007, when Bill was deployed to Iraq, I did a supposedly mandatory Exceptional Family Member Program screening (EFMP) because we were going to move to Germany. I was forced to join EFMP– a program that is supposed to allow commands to consider the “special” needs of family members before sending them to certain assignments. I remember being really upset about that situation, since the doctor who screened me said I could suffer mental health issues in Germany, as Bill could go “downrange” (and he was already downrange when I spoke to her). Then she said there was a shortage of mental health professionals in some areas. Duh… I have a master’s degree in social work. I could have gotten licensed and they could have hired me! I would have just needed to pass an exam and pay a fee. I wasn’t some 19 year old bride, with no experience or ability to take care of myself. But that is how I was treated.

In my case, the military’s EFMP screening was utter bullshit, and in the end, it wasn’t even a problem for us. The National Guard didn’t care about my history of depression, and they’d already cut Bill’s orders for Germany before I even got the screening (that wasn’t supposed to happen). It was a waste of time. I totally could have skipped the whole fucking thing, which really pissed me off. I felt like I was being punished for doing the responsible thing and getting help for my depression and anxiety, and then being honest about it for the EFMP screening. I can see by comments left on the article that people affected by Peace Corps’ mental health policy feel similarly.

It’s not a small ordeal to apply for Peace Corps service. In my case, the whole process took less than three months, but that was only because I applied in the 90s. There were a lot more slots to fill at that time, as eastern Europe and many former Soviet countries offered chances to serve. In my day, people were getting invited to countries like Poland, Estonia, Latvia, Lithuania, Czechia, Slovakia, Hungary, Romania, Bulgaria, Ukraine, both eastern and western Russia, and the like. A lot of those programs have since closed, which means there aren’t as many programs that need Volunteers. That means it can take a lot longer for a person to be accepted and sent off somewhere.

But consider that there’s a lengthy application and interview, you have to have references– I think it’s three now, but it was six when I was a Volunteer– and you have to clear legal and medical. The medical exam is very thorough and arduous. I was fortunate enough to get mine at a military treatment facility /sarcasm, although at least it was provided free of charge! If you don’t have health insurance or the money to pay for the physical and dental screening, it can get pretty pricey. I also remember having to go to the county jail in my Virginia hometown of Gloucester and get fingerprinted. That was an experience!

Peace Corps staff members now apparently send invitations to applicants before they’ve passed all of the qualifications, which means that offers get rescinded after people have told their friends and families, sold or given away their possessions, quit their jobs, given up their housing, and made other life altering decisions. Consider also that many people who serve in the Peace Corps often tend to be high achievers, and having an offer rescinded can be personally devastating to them. The rejection, in and of itself, can cause mental health issues.

I read that this new policy of inviting people who aren’t completely cleared came about in 2012 or so, also because of the Rehabilitation Act. I’ve also read that the policy changed because Peace Corps is “competing” with graduate programs and jobs, so they have to make these offers before the applicants decide to go to graduate school or take a paid position. I suppose there could be some truth to that explanation, too.

Anyway… given what has happened in the world since 2020, I can’t imagine that the Peace Corps can continue this practice of screening out people who have sought mental health treatment. I have read that some people were successful in appealing decisions to rescind offers, although it doesn’t seem to be the norm. But– today’s youth have had to deal with a whole host of shit that my generation didn’t have to deal with– from 9/11, to school shootings, to two wars and terrorism, to COVID-19– they have really been through some tough stuff. They have also come of age at a time when people are being encouraged to seek mental health care if they need it. I think the Peace Corps will find that the pool of applicants with no documented mental health history whatsoever will eventually become very scarce.

Bwahahahaha… when I was a Volunteer, we were all issued a copy of this book. It was pretty useless in Armenia.

I do wish the plaintiffs luck with their lawsuit. It’s not because I think the Peace Corps should be sending anyone and everyone out into remote areas “where there is no doctor” (heh heh hehe… IYKYK). I just think the Peace Corps– like the US military– need to reevaluate their policies regarding mental health treatment. There’s a big difference between someone who gets counseling for situational depression and takes medication for awhile, and someone who is bipolar, has a serious eating disorder, is an alcoholic, or has schizophrenia (and some of those people do manage to slip into service, anyway). They shouldn’t punish people for being honest in their medical screenings, nor should people who do the mature thing and ask for help be penalized for taking care of themselves. And for Christ’s sakes, go back to offering invitations to service AFTER the applicant has jumped through all the hoops, so they don’t uproot their entire lives for NOTHING!

I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again. Not a day passes that I don’t think of my time in Armenia and how much it changed my life, opened my eyes to the world, and altered my perspectives. I was not one who dreamt my whole life of serving in the Peace Corps, but I’m so grateful I did. I would have really hated to have missed that opportunity simply because I very responsibly sought mental healthcare for depression and anxiety before my service, instead of afterwards.

And I dare say the people I served in Armenia would have missed out on knowing me, too… a few of them even liked me. 😉 I look forward to seeing them soon.

Well, that about does it for today. Time to get on with my Friday. Have a good one, folks.

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Armenia, history, holidays

It’s Armenian Genocide Remembrance Day…

The featured photo was taken on April 24, 1997, when I was still a Peace Corps Volunteer in Armenia. From October 1996 until August 1997, I lived just across the street from Tsitsernakaberd, the Armenian Genocide Memorial, in Yerevan, Armenia.

I think today’s post will be somewhat short. I’m getting a late start today, and there are still some things I’d like to do that don’t involve blogging. I did want to take a few minutes, though, to recognize Armenian Genocide Remembrance Day. This is a holiday that occurs in the Republic of Armenia every April 24th, as thousands of Armenians travel to the capital city of Yerevan and make their way up a hillside to pay their respects to people who died in the Armenian Genocide.

A look at what’s going on in Yerevan today. This is a lot bigger than it was when I was living there.

As regular readers know, I was a member of the third group of Peace Corps Volunteers to serve in Armenia. I was assigned the to capital city of Yerevan. It’s my understanding that Volunteers are no longer placed in Yerevan, because it’s gotten to be so modern and “nice” (and no doubt, more expensive). In my days as a Volunteer, Yerevan was “up and coming”, and I got to see it change a lot in just two years. When we arrived in 1995, Yerevan was pretty rough, but by the time we left, businesses were coming in and expanding. The powers that be had already decided that no more Volunteers would serve there, but would instead be sent out to the regions.

If I had to do it over again, I think I would have preferred an assignment outside of the capital city. However, I did end up having a “real” Peace Corps experience, and Armenia is one of those places where a huge portion of the population lives near the capital. So, there’s a lot of action there…

I taught at a school that, when I was a Volunteer, offered all ten “forms”. One of my former students, from a tenth form class during my second year, now works at Peace Corps/Armenia. I think the school where I taught now only handles kids in the early years of their educations. I also think the system has changed since I was a Volunteer, from 1995-97.

My school was named after a poet named Ruben Sevak, who was one of a million Armenians killed in the Genocide in 1915. Back in 1995, Sevak’s daughter, who was then in her 80s and living in France, came to visit the school. I got to meet her. I wrote more about Ruben Sevak here. He was a fascinating man who died much too young. And it was all because of hatred and a basic lack of respect by people for other people, same as any horrendous human rights violation is. Hitler was reportedly inspired by the Armenian Genocide when he came up with his “Final Solution”.

Isn’t it interesting that I now live in Germany, where there are reminders everywhere about the horrors of the past? Except this time, I live in the place where the perpetrators mostly came from, rather than the place where the victims lived. I’ve learned a lot from living in both places, and I’m very grateful that I’ve the opportunities that I’ve had to see and be influenced by both places. I’m not sure how I got so lucky to have these experiences, since I know that most Americans don’t get to travel abroad, let alone live abroad several times, courtesy of the U.S. government.

Anyway… today, I will try especially hard to take a moment to ponder the biggest lessons that came from the Armenian Genocide and the Holocaust. It really disturbs me to see that same trend happening in the United States now. I’ve noticed a lot of negativity in the United States, especially in the era of Trump and the completely bastardized version of the Republican Party that we have now. I just hope it doesn’t come down to the horrors of the past repeating themselves, although given the gun violence problems we have now, maybe things are already heading in that direction.

Well, that’s about it for today’s post. Gotta take Noyzi for a walk and have some lunch… and then, maybe plow through more of my latest book, so I can post a new review. Catch you all later.

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Armenia, emergencies, first world problems, funny stories, Germany, Trump, YouTube

When the lights go out in Germany…

Whenever Bill goes away, I’m always soon reminded of how much I miss him when he’s not home. Especially when there’s a heatwave, and I’m sick with a virus.

It got super hot again yesterday and the temperatures were north of 99 degrees. That is historically a rare thing in Germany, but is sadly becoming a more common occurrence, thanks to global climate change. I read in the weather report that we might get a thunderstorm last night. I was actually hoping for that, because I was sweating so much, in spite of the air conditioner and fan we have in our bedroom. Unfortunately, we have portable ACs, and they usually require hot air stoppers.

Thanks to our previous landlady’s total conniption about us trying to be comfortable in her house during previous brutal summers, I haven’t really wanted to install the hot air stoppers in this house. Also, under normal circumstances, we can drop the shutters all the way down and snake the hoses that go with the air conditioners on the floor, and out of the balcony doors. In ex landlady’s house, we didn’t have balconies, so that wouldn’t have worked. The hoses would not have stayed in place. Our current landlord is very cool about us acting like this is our house, within reason, of course. But I’m still kind of traumatized by the behaviors of our former landlady, whom we ended up successfully suing for our deposit.

Even with the shutters down, though, because we don’t have the hot air stoppers, there is nothing to stop hot air from coming in. It usually doesn’t matter too much, since it’s usually not that hot here. At night, if we close the bedroom door, the room gets nice and cool, and Arran isn’t able to sneak downstairs and pee on my rug. But yesterday and the day before were exceptionally hot and sticky days. It was pretty uncomfortable, especially since I’m also not 100% well.

So anyway, there I was sitting in bed when the thunderstorm finally started, at about 8:30pm. I was watching an 80s era made for TV movie on YouTube. Suddenly, at about 8:45, there was a tremendous bang, and there went the power. The room was plunged into darkness, and there was no more air… and I was just sweating like crazy. I put my hair up and even rinsed off in the shower, because it was just so gross. Fortunately, I had just topped up the cell coverage on my iPad, which I don’t usually do unless we’re going on a trip. I did it the other day, because our Internet coverage in this house is pretty unreliable at times, and it’s good to have a cell connection in case it crashes.

The storm dumped some much needed rain and cooled things down a bit, not that I could immediately tell. I was coughing, sneezing, wiping my nose, and getting crankier by the minute. Fortunately, the fire brigade was on the spot, and they responded to the outage very quickly. The lights were back about an hour later. I love that about Germany, because power outages are pretty rare here, and when they do occur, they tend to be very brief.

My two years in Armenia in the 90s, where power outages were very common, have caused me to be a lot less tolerant of them in the “more developed world”. I can remember loving outages when I was a kid. They seemed “cool”. As an adult, I don’t think they’re any fun at all. I guess enduring a six week straight stint, without any power at all, will do that to a person. It turned out my Armenian neighbor hadn’t known I was living there, and cut my power so it would go to his apartment. It seemed that a lot of male Armenians in the 90s were all amateur electricians! Once he realized he had a neighbor, my former neighbor fixed my line for me, and I went back to having power for 2 to 4 hours per day. Not long after that, another neighbor harassed me, and I ended up moving out of that building.

Funny story about that. The harasser lived a level down from me, and one night, as I was coming back from a night out, he was in the hall, messing with the hall light. I tried to pass him, and he grabbed my arm and wouldn’t let go. He held my arm in a vise-like grip and kept telling me in Armenian not to scream, but I was petrified, because one of my colleagues was recently sexually assaulted and beaten up in her village, and it landed her in the hospital. Then she had to be medevacked to the States. I had visions of her black eyes, broken nose, fractured teeth, and beaten face in my head, as this guy held my arm and menacingly warned me not to scream. I was so scared that I couldn’t think how to respond in his language, but he could obviously tell I didn’t want to talk to him or be near him. For all I know, he was trying to tell me about the lights, but he had my arm, was telling me not to scream, and wouldn’t let go of me. So draw your own conclusions about what I was thinking at the time.

I informed the powers that be at the Peace Corps office, and they sent one of their drivers to come over to speak to my neighbor. The driver was the husband of the Country Director’s secretary, and he was a big, imposing, Mafia-esque looking guy. He basically told the guy to leave me alone, or there would be big trouble. I was told that my neighbor was pretty terrified, as the Peace Corps driver was quite intimidating, and made it clear that he would beat the ever loving shit out of the guy if he ever bothered me again (or, at least it was strongly implied). I never had any more trouble with him, but I never felt safe in that apartment again. And then my landlady decided to sell it, so I had to move anyway.

Not long after my neighbor imposed six week power outage, Armenia decided to restart Metzamor, a nuclear power plant they had shut down in the late 80s after Chernobyl and a massive earthquake destroyed a good portion of the country and killed tens of thousands of people. When I was living in Armenia, some experts, including a few from the United States, examined the facility and decided it was safe.

The Peace Corps gave all us Volunteers little bottles of iodine pills, in case there was an explosion. They were supposed to protect our thyroid glands. I don’t know… seems to me that if there was a nuclear accident, our thyroid glands would be one of the last things we’d be concerned about. Fortunately, Metzamor was still functional, and during the summer of my second year, we finally got electricity 24/7. That was quite an amazing thing to experience, especially as a privileged American. As far as I know, that’s how things still are in most areas. I’m sure today’s Volunteers will never know the pain groups A1, A2, and A3 endured, back in the early days of Peace Corps/Armenia. 😉

So… as you might be able to understand, I really don’t like power outages, especially when I’m home alone. And that seems to be when they happen the most frequently. Fortunately, I had my two dogs with me to protect me. Even Noyzi, who doesn’t tend to hang around with me in the evenings, stayed in the room with me, even until after the lights came on and I went to sleep. He eventually got up and went into his own room, which required me to open the door for him. Then Arran got me up at 1:30 am for a pee break, and then again at 4:00 am, because he wanted his breakfast. I tried to go to sleep again after that, but was too busy coughing. I’ll probably need another nap today, like I did yesterday.

I’m glad last night’s power outage was short lived, although I did hear that there was a fire caused by the lightening. Again, Germany has excellent firefighters, so the blaze was quickly contained. The weather seems a bit cooler today, so maybe the dogs will finally get their walk. I’ve skipped it twice this week, because of the heat and my sickness. I do feel somewhat better today, except for the coughing and mucous. You know how it is. It seems like it’s always the worst right when I wake up and have to clear all of the crap that settled in my lungs overnight. Again, I don’t know if this is COVID-19. The one test I took said it wasn’t. This virus isn’t like last month’s, though, which also evidently wasn’t COVID. I haven’t had a super runny nose, which is a blessing, since that always causes a wound under my nostrils. I also haven’t had a fever or body aches or any weird symptoms. It really is just like a regular cold, minus the runny nose phase.

Bill is also supposed to come home tonight, after he finishes working today. He’ll probably get home in the evening, and we’ll be grumpy together, as the heat hangs around a bit longer. I told him I want to get out of here… definitely for a vacation somewhere cooler. Maybe we can do something in September, after the Germans have had their holidays in August, but before COVID-19 ramps up again!

On another note, I did manage to catch some of Ivana Trump’s funeral. Or, what was shown outside the church, anyway. I’m not surprised she had a golden casket, or that her rapist ex husband was there.

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