Undefined Person Meets An Undefined Project

During my childhood, the thought occured to me that I didn't know how to do anything. But somehow, my shoelaces always got tied, my bed got made, and I survived in this practical world.

went to the university, where I took subjects like Scandinavian literature, history of historians, modern Slavic literature and philosophy of literature.

When I joined the Peace Corps, I was classified as a "generalist." As a man who could do absolutely nothing of a practical nature, I was slightly amazed when I met my fellow trainees for the Peace Corps "R.C.A." program in Sierra Leone thought that I would be working with computers or television sets before I learned the initials meant ("rural community action")--Carpenters, masons, geologists, an people you read about in books, unreal people, people who can (shudder) do things.

I tried to fake my way by dropping words like "hammer," "cement" and "wrench." But somehow, my clever plan failed, and I feared and trembled on Selection Eve. But I look like I'm a very sincere Friend of Man, and it's hard to get selected out of the Peace Corps if you're sincere.

In Sierra Leone, I was given a road project in Bombali district. I Kriolized (after Krio, the Englishderived lingua franca of the country) my technical words--amma, c'ment, 'spana--dropped them expertly and waited for cheers and applause from my workers. Meanwhile, I read something called, "How to Build a Bridge," and I built one (I'm still laughing).

When a new Peace Corps program was proposed--chiefdom development instead of specific construction projects--I was asked to begin a pilot program for the Northern Province. The director of the CARE-Peace Corps rural development program patted me on the back (after feeding me) and told me to go out and develop a chiefdom. It's easy to see why I was chosen for this mission: no one really knows what community development entails, 'and who is better qualified for an undefined project than an undefined person?

I packed my bags and moved to Masingbe, a town of about 2300 people and headquarters of Kunike Chiefdom. Immediately after my arrival, I went to the highest point in the town to survey my new home: the huts of mud, wattle, and burlap; the fragrance of lilac, frangipani, and purple-tassled flowers filling the heavy air -- ah, sweet life. While I was gone my house was robbed.

In the weeks that followed I worked hard, dropping new words such as "co-operative," "social center," "adult education," "dispensary," and so on. I even pretended to know the Temne equivalents: kaw opaneh, nseth na kawol, karan ka na baki, nseth nim atui . . .

The number of projects I have going is ridiculous, and I would have to be a Renaissance Man to handle them all. But I have bluffed my way; and my ingenious worddropping scheme has convinced at least some people that I am possessed of virtue, that I am a true "generalist" (that is to say, generally good in everything). And just as my shoelaces got tied, my projects, somehow, will be completed.

Louis Rapoport, Beverly Hills, Calif., attended the Los Angeles and Berkeley campuses of the University of California, became a Volunteer in 1964.