This is part V of my 3-month journey in Sri Lanka, as a volunteer for WECare Worldwide.
In the tiny fishing village of Gandara, Sri Lanka, an unlikely group of heroes and heroines has assembled for a noble cause: rescuing and caring for street dogs. These dedicated individuals have left behind the comforts of home, travelling across continents to reach this remote corner of the world. Each day, they face not only the challenges of animal rescue but also the very real risk of rabies – a deadly threat that looms over their selfless work.
As I prepared to join their ranks, I couldn’t help but wonder about the people I would soon meet. Who were these individuals who had traversed over 9,000 kilometers, enduring day-long journeys, to dedicate themselves to Sri Lanka’s neglected canines? What drove them to abandon the familiar and embrace a life of service in a land so far from their own?
Expectations vs. Reality
Before my arrival, I had conjured up a mental image of my future companions: veterinary professionals, predominantly British, seasoned travelers with the courage to tackle rural Sri Lanka’s challenges. As the weeks passed, I found that my initial assumptions only scratched the surface of the diverse and complex reality I encountered.
I discovered that I was one of only a handful without a veterinary background. The British connection held true, with most of the expats hailing from the UK, save for a lone South African colleague. But my assumption about their travel experience couldn’t have been further from the truth. Many had never set foot in Asia before committing to this life-changing adventure.
The Call of Gandara
“Why did you come out here?” became the ice-breaker of choice among volunteers. The answers were as diverse as the individuals themselves. Some sought escape from the commercialized veterinary practices back home, where pressure to drive revenue overshadowed animal care. “Fuck the system,” one colleague declared bluntly. “That’s why I came out here.”
For others, personal heartbreak paved the way to Sri Lanka. The charity’s very existence owed itself to Dr. Janey Lowes’ own romantic setback in 2014. Our South African teammate sought a safer alternative to the violent crimes in her homeland. In a way, we had all gathered in this tiny fishing village to escape something in our lives.
Many British staff and volunteers learned about the charity through Ben Fogle’s television documentary. They followed WECare’s Instagram account, and inevitably, Facebook’s algorithm did the rest. In moments of vulnerability – after conflicts with superiors or relationship breakups – social media presented them with a job posting that promised purpose and adventure. The rest, as they say, is history.
Local Heroes
While the foreigners had traveled great distances, the local team had overcome even greater cultural barriers to dedicate their careers to street dogs. In a country where canines are often viewed as pests, few Sri Lankans grow up dreaming of a life committed to animal welfare.
“My mom doesn’t like me doing this job,” a local staff member confided. “I’m doing this because I like dogs.” In Sri Lanka, parents typically encourage their children to become doctors rather than veterinarians. The roles of dog catcher or animal care assistant are rarely sources of familial pride.
The local Sri Lankan staff face unique challenges in their roles, often working alongside and sometimes reporting to foreigners. This dynamic adds layers of complexity to their already demanding jobs. Cultural misunderstandings can arise from differences in communication styles, work expectations, and problem-solving approaches. For instance, what might be seen as direct feedback by a British volunteer could be perceived as harsh criticism by a Sri Lankan colleague, potentially straining working relationships.
Despite these hurdles, the local staff play a pivotal role in the organization’s success. They not only contribute to the care of the street dogs but also serve as cultural bridges, helping us foreigners navigate the intricacies of Sri Lankan society. Their insider knowledge proves invaluable in building community relationships, negotiating local bureaucracies, and finding practical solutions to everyday challenges.
They straddle both worlds: understanding the mission of the charity while being deeply rooted in Sri Lankan culture. Each local WECare staff member represents a rare find – individuals who have chosen compassion over convention.
Living in the Bubble
Life in Gandara created a unique social dynamic. Not only did we work together, but most of us – especially the expatriates – also lived together. This intense proximity presented challenges I hadn’t experienced in other cultural bubbles, like my time hanging out with 300 other MBA students in Fontainebleau, France, or as an expat in the massive city of Seoul.
Our world shrank and became remarkably small. The foreign staff and volunteers – a group rarely exceeding twenty – found themselves in a tightly knit community, frequenting the same handful of local establishments. From the village’s sole bakery to its lone restaurant, our daily routines intersected constantly. We shared beach outings, grocery runs, and weekend excursions exploring Sri Lanka’s picturesque southern coastline or its misty central mountains. While beautiful, this bubble offered no escape. For expatriates, there were no outside friends to turn to, no gossip that wouldn’t spread, and no way to avoid feeling excluded if interpersonal issues ever arose.
This environment could be especially taxing during periods of illness or burnout. The unfamiliar diet and climate often led to health issues, while the nature of the work itself took a toll on both body and spirit. The daily routine of Catch-Neuter-Vaccinate-Return (CNVR) could become monotonous, punctuated by the heart-wrenching emergencies at the WECare hospital. The team faced a relentless stream of road traffic accidents, occasionally interspersed with more exotic crises like cobra bites or machete attacks.Far from home and without family support, the superheroes could only rely on each other for survival.
The Human Element: Challenges for HR
In such a unique and challenging environment, human resources became one of the charity’s most crucial functions. Attracting expatriates willing to work for modest pay packages in a developing country required significant effort. And not just anyone: finding individuals with the right attitude to maintain harmony within the team was essential.
Creative contract policies were implemented to make the opportunity more attractive and sustainable. The organization invested heavily in setting expatriates up for success, investing into making community housing successful and building support systems to cope with the daily stresses of emergency veterinary work.
The nature of this demanding work means that staff turnover is an inevitable reality. Some complete their contracts, allowing the HR team to plan for smooth transitions. Others, however, depart abruptly, succumbing to the intense emotional and physical toll of the job. Even superheroes, it seems, can be felled by burnout. In this constantly shifting landscape, the challenge is not just filling positions, but finding those rare individuals who can step into the role of hero, ready to continue the vital work of caring for Sri Lanka’s street dogs.
Unsung Heroes: Midpoint Reflections on the Human Side of Animal Welfare
As I reach the midpoint of my journey in Sri Lanka, I find myself pausing to reflect on the transformative experiences I’ve already shared with the remarkable individuals at WECare. I arrived in Gandara with admittedly selfish motivations: seeking healing from my own burnout and hoping to find direction for a potential new career path. With the luxury of a predetermined three-month stay and financial security to fall back on, my stakes remain lower than those of my long-term colleagues.
Yet, despite our diverse backgrounds and motivations, we found ourselves united by a common purpose: the welfare of Sri Lanka’s street dogs. This shared mission bridged cultural and professional divides, bringing together a group of individuals who might never have crossed paths otherwise.
And while I initially focused solely on the plight of street dogs, I’ve become acutely aware of the challenges faced by the very superheroes dedicating their lives to this cause. Stress, homesickness, familial pressure, and the intense dynamics of living in our small “bubble” all take their toll. The beautiful setting of Gandara, while peaceful on the surface, presents its own unique set of challenges.
This experience has already underscored for me the critical importance of human well-being in charitable organizations. I’m beginning to understand that the success of any animal welfare charity hinges on the health and resilience of its human champions. For organizations like WECare, which rely heavily on the relocation of international expatriates for long-term knowledge transfer, this challenge is even more pronounced. The complexities of recruiting, supporting, and retaining these dedicated individuals add another layer of intricacy to an already demanding mission.
This phenomenon extends far beyond Gandara. Across the global community of dog welfare organizations, from shelters to rabies vaccination campaigns to spay-and-neuter initiatives, similar human resource challenges persist. Behind every rescued animal, there’s a network of compassionate humans navigating their own struggles and triumphs.
As I continue my work here and reflect on the global animal welfare movement, I’m increasingly aware that we must remember to support and celebrate these human heroes who make it all possible. In our quest to save animals, we must not forget the wellbeing of those who have chosen to be their voice and their guardians.
This is part V of my 3-month journey in Sri Lanka, as a volunteer for WECare Worldwide.