By Mark Sconce
John F. Kenney’s entreaty, “Ask not what your country can do for you, but rather what you can do for your country,” inspired a generation of young idealists determined to represent America abroad through volunteer service. One of these was the author, Mark Sconce, who joined the Peace Corps, the world service group that went to developing countries to assist in improving road maintenance, digging wells, and installing pumps to bring fresh water to villages, building bridges and basic housing, and teaching English. Along the way, they were expected to exemplify American values as opposed to those of the Communist bloc.
The young Sconce, after several weeks of training, was sent to Gaur, a village in Nepal, close to the Indian border. There he immersed himself in both Nepalese and Indian cultures, picked up a good deal of the languages, learned to appreciate the food, the music, and the people, and in every way, managed to undo the reputation of the Ugly American, which was prevalent in much of the undeveloped world.
This incredible memoir, although written in a self-disparaging and humble way, nonetheless shows courage, resourcefulness, and genuine openness to new relationships, which made Sconce a fine ambassador. From resolutely agreeing to wrestle a local champion (he lost), to suffering ear piercings, drinking buffalo milk with ganja, and being dyed with thick powders of yellow, bright red and pink during a Holi festival, he did it all. Three nights on a third-class train with no proper seats but rather a three-tiered plank bench with hundreds of bodies packed in, was sufficient for this reader to take off his Irish cap in admiration.
The book is also replete with the many learning opportunities that the author took advantage of. In the process of learning about language and culture, he also had the opportunity to study Hindu religion and the music of the region. He picked up a lot of language history and Sanskrit and studied the poetry of the Nobel laureate Tagore.
Now, if you’re like me, you thought Sanskrit was a dead language. Not so. It is still spoken in several regions, used in writing by scholars and priests, and is also the root for words of many other languages. It is not surprising that English is also a child of Sanskrit, and many of today’s words show these ancient roots: ambrosia, attack, door (dwar), man (manu), and nirvana (same spelling).
Now the poet Tagore, who won the Nobel Prize, was admired by T.S. Eliot, William Butler Yeats, and even Robert Frost. For Mark Sconce, a poet himself who has blessed the Lake Chapala region of Mexico for many years with his writing, he was even more. He was an early crusader for Indian independence with Mahatma Gandhi. He was founder of a university, a novelist, playwright, teacher, and nationalist. He was an example of how to combine intellectual curiosity, creativity, and joy of living with helping others. As Tagore famously wrote: “I slept and dreamed that life was joy. I woke and found that life was service. I acted and behold, service was joy.”
In this time of terrible and devastating wars, of terrible outrages in Palestine and never-ending conflict in Ukraine, it is important to harken back to an America which once had a vision of peace. When “Thank you for your service!” meant something other than polite acknowledgment of the military. It also meant gratitude for those men and women engaging in the kind of service that sought to preserve peace and promote prosperity around the world. I look forward to the day when the U.S. will embrace that vision again.
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Michael Hogan is the author of 30+ books, many of which are available at Diane Pearl’s Gallery at a discount. He lives in Guadalajara with the textile artist Lucinda Mayo and their rescue dog, Lola.
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