The reality from the far-flung corners of the Third World: The stereotype of the Ugly American lingers. William Lederer`s 1958 novel by that name was set in a small developing country where Americans are described as undoubtedly rich, possibly spoiled, even lazy, until the book`s hero, an American who works side by side with the villagers, changes their mind.
President John F. Kennedy`s Peace Corps, still going strong more than a quarter-century after its inception, was one man`s dream of countering these misconceptions, according to Lederer`s formula.
Patrick Johnson is an American Peace Corps volunteer serving on the ruggedly beautiful island of Tablas, 175 miles southeast of Manila off the northern tip of the larger island of Panay-and 10,400 miles away from his home town of Joliet, Ill.
Kennedy would probably say Johnson stands for everything he wanted to portray about America.
Johnson, 25, grew up in the Chicago area. His mother, a disabled factory worker, raised six kids largely on her own. Johnson studied political science at Utah State University and was something of a football star-even ran for a few NFL scouts before joining the Peace Corps in 1987.
And Johnson is black.
He is one of three black Americans among 330 volunteers currently serving in the Philippines.
Most of the residents of Calatrava, the tiny windswept coastal village where Johnson lives, had never seen a black American. The curiosity and, well, misconceptions that Johnson deals with would exasperate even the most stalwart.
But it seems Johnson has won them over.
”He`s a great guy-really, a hard-working man,” says Rizalio Bronce, the municipal agricultural officer and Johnson`s supervisor.
Ronnie Fortu, the mayor of Calatrava, sits under a framed Time magazine cover-”Aquino: Woman of the Year”-in his sparsely furnished cement block office perched on a hilltop overlooking the town and the ocean beyond.
”He`s really, really good,” Fortu says. ”The farmers say he helps anybody who asks. He has so many projects: a high-bred boar and water buffalo for breeding, even a gadget for artificial insemination, since it`s hard to bring the bull around.”
Johnson has worked hard to earn the respect of the community.
When he arrived, the surprise, and in some cases disappointment, of some who expected a white American was palpable.
”We only saw Americans in movies-and the good guy is usually white. The blacks are usually the bad guys,” says Vicente Fetalino, the vice-mayor who himself looks a bit like an action-film star.
Judging from the films Fetalino has seen, he expected Johnson to either pull out a pistol and shoot up the town or suddenly start break-dancing in the middle of the town plaza-or both.
”But he`s just like us, except he doesn`t drink or smoke,” Fetalino says with a mixture of pride and admiration.
”Patrick Johnson is from a poor family,” Bronce says incredulously.
”He`s an American, but he`s poor,” Bronce repeats for emphasis.
”I try not take it personally,” says Johnson. ”But it`s rough sometimes.”
Johnson is, by anyone`s standards, an extraordinary emissary of goodwill from the Chicago area-an ambassador in tennis shoes, sweatpants and a faded T- shirt.
”My mom was a little concerned when I told her I was going,” Johnson says. ”I`m her baby; I`m the youngest.”
It`s a little difficult to think of Johnson as anybody`s baby. At 6 foot 2 and 220-plus pounds, Johnson looks every inch the football star he once was. Powerfully built, Johnson says working side by side with Filipino farmers keeps him in shape.
Currently Johnson is wrapping up two cross-breeding projects aimed at upgrading local livestock.
His agricultural experience? ”I worked as a gardener one summer,” he says with a smile.
Johnson used to wake up to the sound of traffic, neighbors and radios. These days it`s chickens and pigs. His adopted home, St. Bernadette, is a poor district of Calatrava with a population of 950 farm families. The villagers earn their living from coconut and rice farming.
On a typical day he wakes at dawn and fixes himself a breakfast of ”rice and something” over a wood fire.
His room is plain. A grass mat for sleeping. A globe. A plaque from his fraternity. A pile of books and magazines: ”Psychology for Village Development,” ”Intensive Vegetable Growing,” ”Community, Culture and Care,” an illustrated guide to pest management in tropic rice production.
His schedule is never the same. Sometimes he meets with farmers` groups. Other days he visits individual farmers, walking or riding his bicycle to remote farms. He has no trouble chatting with the farmers-he`s made a point of learning the local dialect.
Says Johnson about his lifestyle: ”I love it.”
Johnson may not have known much about agriculture when he joined the Peace Corps, but today his depth of knowledge is impressive. When he first arrived in the country, he took an intensive eight-week Peace Corps training course that covered language, community development, Philippine culture and history, and plenty of technical agriculture topics.
Six months later, Johnson requested further training in the use of hand-powered farm implements and artificial insemination, which the Peace Corps provided. He also visited the Philippines` premier agricultural university to discuss project ideas with experts.
Why insemination?
”That`s what the local people said they wanted,” says Johnson. He describes how he and Bronce helped about 40 farmers form themselves into a cooperative. With the co-op`s help, the community was surveyed. The No. 1 problem: a shortage of working animals.
”We are trying to ban the export or slaughter of water buffalo,” says Mayor Fortu, who says poverty forces farmers to sell their animals.
Johnson consulted the University of the Philippines, which recommended the breeding program.
”Patrick is outstanding for many reasons, among them his easygoing manner, his initiative and his tenacity,” says Bill Courtney, associate Peace Corps director, based in Manila. ”He`s a self-starter, and once he gets started, he doesn`t let frustrations deter him.”
Johnson says a recruiter came to his college campus and explained the program: Kennedy thought a corps of Americans who worked side by side with their developing-country hosts on health, education, agricultural and other projects was the sincerest form of assistance the U.S. could offer. Although critics doubted he would find enough people to work without pay far from the comforts of home, the program celebrated its 25th year in 1986.
Johnson was sold.
”I`ve always been interested in development,” he says.
Asked to explain, Johnson talks about growing up as a member of a minority. ”Hispanics, black and other minorities are in a way separate underdeveloped nations within nations,” he says. ”Being a black American, I identified with people from developing countries.”
Johnson observes: ”In the U.S., the poor are exposed to affluence-television sets, big cars, big houses-and are frustrated because these things are out of their reach, but they aspire to have them. Families here have few possessions but feel more resigned to the situation. They don`t feel circumstances exist for them to change their situation.”
Another difference noted by Johnson: In the U.S., the poor enjoy the benefits of roads, electricity and municipal services. And in the U.S., there are more options.
Johnson says his family is a good example. Born in Alabama in 1964, Johnson moved with his family to Chicago a few years later.
”You could say we were poor,” says Johnson, who speaks with affection about his mother, who he says kept the family together.
Two of his brothers are policemen, one a lieutenant with the Chicago force and the other in Alabama. Another brother, who is developmentally disabled, lives at home with Mrs. Johnson. Both of his sisters are
professionals: a computer programmer and a nurse. One brother died a few years ago.
Johnson says his mother was strict-she made sure all her children were in the house early each evening. Johnson had to beg her to allow him to try out for the football team. ”Sports meant so much to me, I just stayed away from alcohol and drugs,” says Johnson, who admits he took a lot of flack for staying clean.
Awarded a football scholarship to a Division 1AA school, Weber State University, Johnson completed his degree in political science while playing defensive tackle. ”I was pretty good,” he admits after some prodding.
He was good enough, in fact, to gain the attention of a few scouts, including representatives of the Miami Dolphins and the Dallas Cowboys.
But Johnson, who weighed in at 220, was 60 pounds underweight and a few inches too short to compete with other college athletes being considered for defensive positions.
”That`s when I realized that instead of using this,” Johnson says, pointing to one of his ample biceps, ”I had to use this,” pointing to his head.
Johnson, who avoided the ”wild kids,” as he calls them, says finishing high school, concentrating not only on football but his studies in college, and joining the Peace Corps have made a big difference in his life.
More than 5,000 black Americans have served as Peace Corps volunteers in more than 90 countries, but the Peace Corps would like to increase the number of minorities-blacks still make up a very small percentage of volunteers.
In 1978 Carolyn Payton, an attorney and Howard University faculty member, became the first black person and the first woman appointed director of the Peace Corps.
”The Peace Corps is a chance for black Americans to make a difference. You develop skills and strategies for change and have more to give when you get home,” says Payton.
”Peace Corps made a terrific impact on my life. There is no question in my mind that Peace Corps served as my springboard for my career in development,” says Leonard Robinson, director of the African Development Foundation, who served as a volunteer in India from 1964 to 1966.
Johnson says he would like to continue working in development and plans to either return to school for his master`s degree or join an overseas development agency.
But he has other immediate plans for his return to Chicago in a few months: a 16-ounce steak, a plate of Carson`s ribs, fish from Catfish Digby`s, Mom`s potato salad and, for dessert, apple pie and ice cream.
Despite his remarkable ability to adjust, he claims his is still a Chicago stomach.
