After spending four years earning his undergraduate degree at Carnegie Mellon, Michael Choe is ready for the next phase of his life–full-time employment. With graduation just a few weeks away, the business major attends the University's job fair. He walks from booth to booth in his good interview suit, talking to company representatives and gathering more and more information along the way. Nothing seems appealing, though. In fact, he realizes that he doesn't want to work for any of these companies.
That is, until he arrives at the final booth. It seems to him that it is the only booth that doesn't dwell on consumerism, that offers him a chance to travel outside of the country and experience other cultures, and that embraces the compassion instilled in him by his parents and his favorite high school teacher. Almost one year later, the business major begins a road less traveled, finding himself in the Republic of Kazakhstan as a volunteer with the Peace Corps.
After three months of language and cultural training by his host family, Choe, now semi-fluent in Russian, moves to Kapchagai, the city he will call home for the next two years.
He begins his days by teaching English and economic development classes to teenage students. After the first few classes, he realizes that teaching economics and free-market principles in a former communist country won't be easy. So he shifts gears and starts teaching the basics of marketing and business. "They are not used to thinking about things like we do in America. We're so used to being consumers, and they're not. But I know they want to be–especially the young kids," he says.
Additionally, Choe teaches computer programming classes and agrees to take charge of a local computer lab. He thinks, "Wow, that's impressive for a country that doesn't even have enough books for students–this is going to be great!" Then, on his first day, he opens the heavy iron door and sees 15 IBM PS/2 Model 30 computers, first introduced in 1987–all in pristine condition, complete with plastic covers on each keyboard.
"It was like stepping back into the '80s–instead of hard drives, there were cassette tapes. It was very Soviet in fashion–no frills." The lack of resources teaches Choe a lesson. "When you're desperate, you figure things out as you go. And you see things for how they are. Yeah, sure, it might be a 20-year-old computer, but you're trying to do what you can with it."
Ingenuity lessons are everywhere in Kazakhstan, even at bus stops. While Choe waits for a bus in 100-degree heat, with sweat pouring down his face, he eventually sees a bus in the distance. When the bus comes into focus, he notices something is wrong. The front windshield is missing; in its place is a huge piece of cardboard with a 4-inch-high, foot-long slit in the middle that allows the driver to see if he crouches just right. "It's a different kind of ingenuity than the States. And that's the cool part–for me, at least," he says. Choe chooses to wait for a bus with a windshield.
At times, it's difficult for him to ignore the poverty–burning garbage everywhere, roaming wild dogs, poor health care. "Lack of health care and education–those are the two worst things happening. Those things are basic human rights," he says.
One of the most difficult aspects of being a Peace Corps volunteer, Choe believes, is simply accepting reality. He says that you go into the experience wanting to save the whole world and "fix everything," but you quickly realize that it's just not going to happen. There is always more to do. There is always injustice. "It's hard, but you have to be able to say, 'This is the part I'm going to fight.'"
When Choe's two years in Kazakhstan ended in July 2004, he left good friends behind, including Alexey Avdeev, chosen by the Peace Corps to be Choe's counterpart–his "go to" person within Kapchagai. "I became good friends with him, his son, and wife," he says. In fact, he proudly adds that he now knows how to make homemade jam because Avdeev's wife, Luba, taught him. "All in all, it's about the simple things–it's all the simple victories."
After leaving the Peace Corps, Choe didn't return home, he comanaged more than 30 computer labs across the Caucasus (which includes Azerbaijan, Armenia, and Georgia), though he was based in Armenia. Unlike the lab in Kazakhstan, the labs had updated equipment and a dedicated staff. It was very different from his grassroots efforts in the Peace Corps. "This was about international development–real international development– and it was exactly what I wanted to do: using technology to build society," he says. Unfortunately, he says funding was cut less than a year later because money shifted to the war in Iraq. He had to fire almost everyone and close all programs within six months. "It was a huge task. And a real shock, obviously," he says.
He stayed one more year in the Caucasus, finding work as a communications and development coordinator, before his road less traveled returned him to the States in September 2006. He took about four months to get over his reverse culture shock. "When you tell someone you were swimming in minus-30-degree weather and then doing a bunch of shots and eating pickles with Russians, no one really gets it. If you don't take time to decompress, I think you can come back really cynical." Part of his decompression involved reacquainting himself with his favorite snacks. "I ate a lot of Cheetos and burritos," he laughs.
Choe (TPR'01) now envisions having a future in "Internet space" within the private sector, perhaps with one of the companies represented at the job fair years ago. In hopes of finding a satisfying career, the San Francisco resident has been active in the University's Network Nights, hosted by the Alumni Association, where alumni and companies have informal get-togethers. Wherever he chooses to turn next, he is sure that one of the attributes he learned during his time overseas will serve him well. "You always have to be able to think on your feet."
Information about Network Nights can be found on the Carnegie Mellon Alumni Web site: www.alumni.cmu.edu.
