Contrasts

Posting for Michele.

December 16, 2013

The rain taps gentle melodies on the roof while I marvel at the incongruencies in my life. I sit on the bed, under wooden poles thrust into cement walls, windows decorated with wrought iron bars, covered with cut up mosquito netting stuck to said walls with velcro glued with contact cement (my screens), then covered with lace curtains and finally emahiya (fabric in bright patterns). The cement floor leaves my feet gritty, even though I sweep 3-4 times a day. But on the bed with me are my electronic toys - bluetooth keyboard, ipad, phone that tethers the ipad to the internet and kindle. I feel as though the 21st century snuck in while I wasn't looking.

The other night, getting ready for bed, movement caught my eye. A small bat was flying around the room. I opened the door wide, but it circled around and around, unable to find it's way out. Finally I turned out the light, walked outside and turned on a flashlight. The bat flew free. Whew!

Early December, riding the bus into town, past fields of maize. People were weeding, some were women with small children on their backs. To tie a little one on, a woman leans over from the hips, parallel to the ground. Then she swings the toddler up over her shoulder onto her back, throws a long shawl over the baby and ties it just above her breasts. Then she takes the lower half, pulls it tight, stands up and ties it,  then tucks it under the baby's bottom. The babies go everywhere, and are usually pretty quiet. If they fuss, the sling is pulled around to the front and the baby can nurse. Public nursing is totally acceptable.

The rains have started, and people collect rainwater, so even though the community tap is still dry, water is not, for now, an immediate issue. The roads are. Or rather, transport is. The roads are dirt and sand that turns into mud that cakes onto shoes and slides across what used to be roadbed. For a week the road was impassable, meaning to get to town busses had to go in the opposite direction, make a big circle, charge twice the bus fare and take twice as long. It's frustrating and inconvenient for me, but for those with jobs in town it's a whole different level of problem.

Add to the mix that some of the khombis are not running, and you wind up with 1 bus serving the area of my homestead. Got on that in Manzini 9:30 one morning, and set a new record - 4 1/2 hours to get the 20 or so miles home. Definitely a lesson in patience and in learning what the Universe has in mind for me. We started out, stopped, turned around and took a scenic tour of the back roads of Manzini to - some buildings behind a fence. There, for the next 2 hours, the driver, conductor and workers from the building repaired the bus. First they plugged in some extension cords, then took a skill saw, cut through some rebar, shaped one end into a tool, then soldered it to a handle. Brought that up to the bus, which was on a jack, removed the wheel and proceeded to do some welding and other repairs. Sent someone off to get parts, and 2 hours later, it was done.

Hanging out, waiting, talking to folks. The conductor wants to expand his business. My sisi knows him, so I may be able to get some resources to help him do that. He's also a student at a university. Busy young man. An older man talked about Nelson Mandela, and how he modeled for us the importance of not giving up, of having faith that his goal is the right one, of doing something every day, every day. It was as though that man were talking to my heart, to my self-doubts, the part of me that wonders if being here is right. It is.

So off we went - back to the bus rank, then the long way around. Turns out my stesh is the last one on the route - bus turned around there and headed back. Eish! What a journey.

More bus sights: Busses, understandably, are packed. The woman next to me pulls a little girl onto her lap. The child falls asleep. Little kids, undeterred by manners, stare, stare, stare at me. A first white person? Police stop all traffic. Sometimes they just talk to the driver. Sometimes we all get out and line up and they go through our bags. No one knows what they are looking for. Then we get back on the bus. Even though we were at the end of the line, and people are standing, we wiggle through the mass of humanity to get get to our seats which await us.

Contrasts and differences. look around! friends. What contrasts, less noticeable but notable just the same, do you see?

Picture Time

I am at Simunye Country Club for some R & R and there's real wifi!  Here are some pics.

 

Here is Sinethemba with that hat he made in one weekend. This was the school project he procrastinated starting till the last minute.

 

Life is short, roast marshmallows before dinner... The kids are in the lidladla - the outside kitchen - and dinner is in the pot. I think only one marshmallow, out of 2 bags, fell in the fire.

Siyabonga is about to release the cattle who have been pulling a plow to weed the maize.

 

A huge storm hit, putting dents in my corrugated metal roof. I was lucky! The roof in this tree used to be on a church next to my homestead. The wooden walls wound up on the ground, and all that was left was the cement foundation.

 

 

Here is a better view of the roof.

 

And since it was Sunday morning, the congregation put up a tent for church. Note the pick being turned into a hammer. That's Menzi, looking on.

And they needed chairs, so Nomile, age 6, helped out!

Michele's Latest Missive - November 7-22

November 7

Mangoes are ripening!!! Bought a couple today, and one was perfect. Peeled it and stood dripping over the table, sweet juices fulfilling fantasies. I thought of a time in Mexico when I only ate them on the beach or in a shower so I could readily wash off the sticky mess I made of myself. Ah, a bit of heaven right here.

And another snapshot: sitting in the dining hall at the training center, swallows flying in for quick tours. One lit on the open peanut butter jar and casually helped himself to some...

fines for women wearing pants in town during incwala.

November 13
Do you still feel like a fish?

Simphiwe said to me, when we were walking in Manzini, 'Everyone is staring at me because I'm walking with you.' Naw, I replied, it's because you're beautiful. "No," she insisted, "it's because you're white." Yep, I am visible, I grinned. Sometimes I feel like I'm living in a fishbowl.

The next time I saw her, a month and a tragedy later, she suddenly asked, "Do you still feel like a fish?" The funniest part is that I knew exactly what she meant!

Peace Corps says that by the time I go home and can blend in easily, I'll miss being the center of attention. I dunno - hard to imagine missing not having privacy... Something to look forward to, for sure.

November 14

I thought this blog would be about me in Africa, but it turns out to be also about Africa in me... Big storm last night, and electricity went out. Back on mid-day, out again just now. Sitting on my front cement pad to feel the cool breeze and because the kids had come from church. How humbling to have them come sit by my door. Quietly, because my SiSwati is lacking and their English is, too, because they are so young. but nice. Very nice, to just be.

came inside and took a cool bath in my washtub. by candlelight. the candle standing tall in the empty amarula bottle. dried off, put on my lihiya and climbed onto the bed to peck away at my ipad, writing this. feeling decadent. grateful for all I have. For the juxtapositions that highlight my world.

reading Cutting for Stone. it's about Ethiopia but the descriptions are not unfamiliar. In Manzini, I saw a man on hands and knees, with knee pads, thankfully, making his way down the rough cement sidewalk. No one stared. On the dirt road in front of my homestead I saw a man in a wheelchair. Not so easy in the mud or sandy dry soil on the hills that make this region so beautiful.

Sent: Tuesday, November 19, 2013 10:42 AM

I sent this as an email to Sueji, and she suggests it be part of my blog. I agree.

Dear Sueji,

How delightful to start my morning with a text from you! You asked about school - and I'll broaden that to work. Work is - strange. by that I mean that I'm always on, at least as long as I'm in my community, so though I read a lot, and do home chores, I can have someone knocking at my door
whenever. Or I can go outside and the kids will come to me. Work and my life
are sort of one most of the time. So some snapshots:

The kids rolling around on top of each other like puppies. Nomile sitting next to me, her head on my lap, falling asleep. Beke wrapping the mat I made from plastic bags around herself like a lihiya - trying to make it into a skirt. Sinethemba knocking on my door Friday afternoon and saying the hat he was supposed to crochet from plastic bags - the project assigned at least a month ago - was due on Monday. Would I help him? Sure. As we worked, I asked, what happens if you don't finish and turn it in? The teacher will beat me more than I want to be beaten, he replied matter-of-factly, crocheting away. And he finished! And got 80%! A true miracle, since it was definitely the world's messiest job. But Sunday night about 9:00 p.m. he and the other kids were at my door, asking me to help him finish it, which I did. Then I took pictures of all of them wearing the hat.

A young woman asking me to help her with biology - no book - what are the functions of the liver? pancreas? big intestine? little intestine? and by the way - what's that (pointing to my little oven/stove. It's about the size of a large toaster oven with a couple of burners on top). It's an oven and since I was making bread and it was ready to bake, I turned it on. She lives without electricity, and didn't understand how it worked. I don't know if she just had never seen such a small stove/oven, or if she didn't know about ovens at all. She touched the sides (warm, not hot) and felt the heat from the glass in  front. Sueji, she's going to be a senior in high school, and didn't know what an electric oven is. She was also interested in the refrigerator (can you explain, off the top of your head, what keeps it cold?
I mumbled something about freon gas circulating, but I really couldn't explain very well). She asked what would happen if she left the door open. In the midst of this her older sister came in - same questions. Wake up calls keep happening. This from a young woman who could talk about biology
more knowledgeably than I could.

At school I worked with the librarian to finish the grant application toBooks for Africa - if my school gets the grant, we'll get about 1,000 books! check it out here: https://donate.peacecorps.gov/index.cfm?shell=donate.contribute.projDetail&projdesc=14-645-001  Then met with Gladness, the guidance counselor. Yesterday she informed me and my supervisor that she and I would be co-teaching the career classes for Form 4(there are 5 forms). Today we talked about what that might look like. I'll be helping the students with career research and assessments. Tuesday I was in Manzini and applied for a library card (no mean feat in itself), then walked around the library looking for career materials.  My heart broke. There were very few books, and those were 15 - 20 years old! The world is changing way too fast for them to be useful.  I  need to go to Mbabane, to the library there. I also need to check with the Ministry of Labor and the Ministry of Education, hoping to get employment projections and other information on  possible career choices. Maybe scholarship info, too.

I so miss the resources so readily available in the the states. But - bright light - one of the reasons I'm going to Mbabane is that Anne, the PC nurse, worked in Human Relations for a hospital. I'm hoping she will be able to guide me in what students need in job interviews, job seeking techniques and anything else we can come up with. Having a local resource is gold. There's another PCV who put on a job search workshop, and I'll see her at Thanksgiving and will pick her brains then. And I still want to contact the Rotary Club in Manzini and see if I can get a contact there for information and maybe mentoring. The work helping the youth groups has slowed to a snail's pace since they aren't really following through, so it's good to have many things happening.

I think by December things will slow or stop as Swazis take the whole month off. But by then integration will be over, and I can leave site for more than one night per month. I really want to visit some of the game preserves, and hope to make that happen. Maybe even a trip to South Africa. Oh, and Saturday I'm going to help out at a National AIDS Day event with some group
10 (I'm group 11) volunteers. I'll be staying with Christine, who has a shower, I hear! And there's a pool nearby, so I'm hoping to get to swim, too, before I head back home.

So that's work! And life. Time for bed soon.

November 20
This morning I noticed Sibusiso had a spot on his head missing hair. What happened? I asked, concerned that he had fallen or somehow hurt himself. Lots of embarrassed giggles, and it turns out that he was caught chewing gum in class. The teacher stuck it i his hair, all the way down to the scalp. That must have hurt, getting it cut out, I ventured. Oh yes! was the reply. None of us mentioned the embarrassment of having a patch of no hair, advertising what he had done...

November 22
50 years since President Kennedy was shot. Another PCV asked those of us old enough to remember where we were and what we were doing when we heard. We all could give amazing details of an event 50 years old. sigh. It's most strange to be in a country where that event is unknown, where Thanksgiving not only doesn't mean the world is shutting down, but where it not doesn't even appear on calendars.

My computer is in the shop, but I hope to post pix when I get it back. Thanks for putting up with my stream of consciousness writing. And you get away with no challenges. Count your blessings <grin>.

Language, Nesting and Whats and Whys

Transmitted from Michele through inconsistent Internet connections

October 16

Language. I'm not only learning SiSwazi -I'm also learning Swazi English. I'm not sure if that means British English as well. The pronunciation  and emphasis on syllables are different, the words meanings differ, and the idioms are not the same. Of course, many are obvious - the softer a for example. But other things are a bit more subtle. I often hear, "You must..." I know what is meant, that they are simply giving directions. But it's hard not to attach the subtext of American bias, as in: Who are you to tell me what I must do? And I hear, 'If ever you...' which sounds - what? discordant, I think, to my ear. Distracting, anyhow.

It's kind of fun to notice the different word, too. Pegs, not clothes pins, plaits, not braids, mattress is a sponge.

October 18

Nesting. I guess it takes a lot of forms. For me, It's food. I'm reverting back to hippie days, it seems. I'm making my own yogurt, and am thinking about turning it into some kind of soft cheese by straining it. I've made a sourdough starter, and I've been making my own bread. (No, Mary and Paul, I'm not grinding my own flour <big grin>). Seems really normal to me, until I see the incredulity on others' faces when I nonchalantly mention it and offer them a taste. It's not hard and getting good bread here is hard. On the other hand, bread is the 'go to' food here. Needless to say, my challah (well, Judi's challah) is a HUGE hit.

I'm gathering feathers to make a dream catcher and am working on a couple of mats made from plastic bags. I've bought a number of lihiyas (2 meter lengths of fabric in beautiful patterns) and have been draping them everywhere - over tables, boxes, windows (I'm working on hemming some for curtains) and even me (they wrap around and cover jeans and/or torso to make me more modest or to keep me warm). Think I may also cut one up for a scarf (I'll get my sisi to show me how to wrap it). I've even slept in one. I'll get dressed and get someone to take a pic for this blog. You folks will laugh - it's fun!

Funny what we do to bring home with us. I'd not have thought these things would bring so much comfort, but they do. Challenge: What would your comfort activities would be?

November 4

November! Are you serious? Tempus fugit...

At the training center for 10 days with all the other G11 volunteers, getting so much information I feel saturated. It's almost as though if I try to retain much more, it will all overflow and sink into the clay earth. Perhaps then G12 (the next group of volunteers) will be able to benefit from it by osmosis? Okay, okay, but I do feel as though my absorption rate is waning, though the importance of the information is not.

For Halloween we planned to drink, eat candy and watch a scary movie. Then the power went out so we opted for a panoramic view of the spectacular light show. The whole sky was alight with lightning strikes and lit up clouds. We watched the lights go out on a hill across the valley, and some of us saw a bolt hit the ground and start a fire. Somehow it's different here - maybe because we can see for such long distances - but Nature's power awes us. Later we heard that there was a great deal of damage to our training villages - some latrines were destroyed and many structures lost their roofs. What was to us a great visual show and a bit of inconvenience when the power went out was a major destructive event for others. Life. Inscrutable.

All the rain cleared the air, and the land is greening with water and Spring. The world looks washed clean, even the clouds waft around the mountain tops and look soft.

Tonight was clear, and Mark has a star map, but even though we lay on the road, still warm from the sun, we were unable to recognize any of the constellations. Not enough knowledge and too much ambient light.

November 5, 2013

Last night we had a campfire, byob, and someone brought marshmallows to toast. As I appreciatively accepted a stick and sweet, then held it over the fire, just so, I realized that here was another one of those givens: we all knew just what to do to get the perfectly toasted marshmallow. What a great thing to share with my host family for an after dinner over the cook fire coals treat.

Of course, roasting marshmallows was almost expected, worthy only of Thank You! as sharpened sticks and sweets were passed around. The theme of the night was a discussion about why we are here - framed roughly around defining our own  philosophies of international development. Interesting stuff, for sure. Designed, I think, to help us articulate our reasons for joining the PC so that when we hit bottom or reach the ends of our ropes we can remember the big picture, the why behind the what.

So I leave you with yet another challenge: What's the Why behind your What? And, having articulated it, are you happy with it? Does it still fit? I hope some of you will share your reflections, either here or in personal emails. As for me, back to class...

What's It Really Like?

A friend asked - What's it like there? She's someone who likes details, so I started looking around.

There are rolling hills - some steeper than others, in every direction and there are groves of trees here and there, mostly around the homesteads. But for the most part, the view is clear in every direction for a long way. The dirt road winds up and down the hillsides between the fields that will soon be planted, mostly with maize. Smaller, but just as distinct, are paths between homesteads rivers. Most homesteads also raise gardens for the family and/or to sell to the community. They don't have vegetable stands, rather, people just know who is selling what, and ask to buy things. Water is a HUGE issue here - so crops must be drought resistant, or near a water source that can be accessed. That's not as easy as it sounds, as pumps and waterlines cost money that most people don't have. There are community funds, but accessing them seems to be somewhat difficult, and the funds run out part way through the year. There are groups who are encouraging permagardening, but getting the information out doesn't seem to be happening very rapidly. It calls for change, and as we all know, that is not easy.

So - water. There are creeks, called rivers, and they may well be rivers in the rainy season, but for now they move slowly and are most shallow. There are a few springs, as well. There are community taps that come from community tanks, but as I wrote earlier, the taps go dry, and people spend a lot of time and energy hauling water from the springs (to drink) and the river (to wash). Taking more of that water for crops could be problematical - I don't know.

The rainy season is coming, and I think it will bring water and mud and mosquitoes. I have heard the roads sometimes become impassable due to their steepness and muddiness and that they cross the rivers that can flood. It will be interesting to see how it all fits together.

Transportation and communication are irregular. Though busses and khombis are available, the schedules are so flexible as to be almost non-existent, and the vehicles are old and extremely unreliable. Because the roads are dirt, washboard and uneven, busses break down and/or may not run at all. I waited an hour and a half for a bus one day, and have waited more than an hour on more than one occasion.

Although cell phones are everywhere, it's ridiculously expensive to make calls (about 18 US cents a minute). So calls tend to be short, and avoided if possible. Whatsapp provides text for very little data time, but that means people must purchase a phone capable of connecting to the internet, and then have enough money to purchase air time and data time.   There aren't really street names and addresses... so snail mail isn't an option. The landlines are not easy to get, and the wires are very old, so don't really support internet access. That leaves walking as the only truly reliable mode of transportation. Of course, that means there are always lots of people out walking, so it's a good way to interact.

Much of the land belongs to homesteads - sort of. Land ownership is tricky because, if I understand correctly, most of the land actually belongs to the king, who allows people to live on it and use it. Usually, as long as it is being used, it "belongs" to the people living on it. But it can't be left unused if someone else wants to use it. So - no fields lying fallow because the owners are far away... Also, all that "communal" land (i.e., land which hasn't been assigned to anyone) is open for everyone to graze their cattle and goats and chickens. So it's totally common to see animals roaming everywhere, including the school grounds. Of course, that means manure piles, as well. And requires that gardens be fenced. I've been told that the cattle are kept fenced in when the maize is first planted - but am not sure everyone does that... The cattle all have ear tags, and it's the kids' job to bring them home every night. Each homestead has a specific whistle/sound for their livestock, and the animals respond only to that one. They come home easily since there are the cobs from the maize awaiting them.

Home. Homesteads. Usually a number of buildings, including an outdoor "traditional" kitchen called lidladla. Here, it is a room with a cement floor, walls on 2 sides, half walls on the other 2 sides, and a door in a side with a half wall. A fire is built here, for now of maize cobs and a little wood, and meals are cooked in three-legged pots. There's a kitchen next to it with a sink but no running water, cabinets and a table and benches. Depending on the homestead, there may be rooms that others live in, storage areas or only a few buildings.

Of course, since the road is not paved, the homesteads are not, either. Instead, a broom of switches is used to sweep the dirt. This keeps the debris picked up and the area clear of grasses that could become the home of snakes. Also, because there are no indigenous forests, all the trees here have been planted. Some are fruit trees, some just for shade, but most are located on or near the homesteads. This means that the roads have almost no shade in the summer, the views are open for miles in all directions, and there's nothing to stop or even slow the winds. The winds can howl alarmingly, and don't always mean rain. They cool things down, and carry a fine film of dust that coats everything. People here are very conscious of keeping things clean, so most sweep and or mop almost daily. Remember the hauled water and factor that in...

In fact, think about the open fires and wind and dust and lack of water, of latrines and livestock and all of that affecting hygiene. Creates challenges, for sure. Oh, and no garbage pick up. Of course the animals eat all the compostables, and paper and cardboard are used to start cook fires, but the glass, plastic and cans go into a garbage pile and are burned. Oh, so are the fields, before planting. Pollution in the air is dust, burning plastic and smoke, but not much from vehicles, except the busses.

Hygiene. It keeps coming back to water. Indoor water requires pipes, fittings, burying lines, a way to deal with waste water - septic tank and/or gray water lines. Friend Bright,  plumber, could describe the needs in much more detail, but it's not a stand-alone deal... And of course, it requires a reliable water source. If that's a well, it requires electricity to run the pump... And then electricity also requires a strong infrastructure. Here, the lines are above ground, so those strong winds mentioned earlier create power surges and outages that raise havoc with everything plugged in to the lines. So if water is not easily available, it makes the task of washing hands after contact with latrines, dirt, etc. more of a challenge. Which means education becomes more important. And it's not free.

This sounds so negative. And the problems are complex, it's true. But there are no homeless people.There are child-run households, orphanages, and a sense of community that is strong and supportive. I spoke yesterday with a member of the the Royal Swazi Police. We talked for a while before he shared his profession. He said that he attended training at an academy before he started work, and that much of what he does is help people solve problems. I asked about domestic abuse. He said if an abused woman comes in they ask her if she wants her husband taken away. If she says No, then they talk with both of them (separately, I hope, though forgot to ask). He said the men tend to listen to them since they are, after all, the police. They never turn anyone away without trying to help. What a different perspective...

So many other details that are becoming my norm. All of the kids have chores no matter how young. Even Beke, age 2, helps carry the cobs to the lidladla. The older boys (11 and 13) are responsible for hauling the water from the tap, bringing the livestock back at the end of the day, and other chores as they arise. I'm sure during planting and harvest time their duties increase. Everyone hauls his or her own bath water and does laundry. The young women are responsible for food planning and preparation, serving Make and Babe (who eat separately) and cleaning up. They also care for and supervise the children. The son helps with repairs, sweeps the dirt, cares for his children, keeps his own space clean and I'm sure has other responsibilities. Make and Babe both have responsibilities as well, and seem to be busy much of the time.

Most buildings are made of blocks covered with cement, with corrugated roof and cement floors. Windows have no screens. Most homesteads are fenced.

Kids are totally uninhibited about singing, and do so loudly and out of tune. They entertain themselves and each other with very little of what kids at home think is necessary. They are a constant delight.

Oh - and people think nothing of asking what are, to me, intensely personal questions. Do you have children? Why not? What church do you attend? It's most disconcerting.

I'm told Swazis know that all white people are rich, and seem to have no problem asking for money. I'm learning how to tell them that's rude, and ask if their family knows what they are doing - in siSwati, of course <grin>.

I've been teaching some career classes - most interesting. That's another blog, though. And I'm liking my tutor and assignments. She's helping me fit together the bits and pieces I'm beginning to understand.

Hope these glimpses are starting to make a whole picture for you readers. Next week I start the census - going to homesteads and talking with the people. I'm looking forward to that, and to sharing another level of life here.

Around the Homestead

Michele sent these to be posted.  She is recovering from a sore throat and laryngitis, so keep her in your thoughts and prayers. I'm sure she would appreciate emails as well.

Laundry day is a family affair

Even the school kids wash their own clothes.
From left to right, Nomila, Beketela and Siyabonga

Play doh is a big hit with these two beautiful young ladies.
They are going to break some hearts when they get older.
Nomile and Beke

 

Kids are kids are kids. Amazing what they can do with a little play doh... Beke is about to discover it will stick to the struts of what would be a chair back; they are using the seat as a table. Perfect height!

 

My bhuti, Linda, is trying to fix the roof for me before it rains again. The workmanship was so shoddy he couldn't make it stop leaking. Fortunately the next day was a scheduled visit from Peace Corps staff, who were appalled at the 'worst job they had ever seen'. The vendors who did the work will be asked to make it right. Hope it happens before the next storm <smile>.

  

And last, but not least, some days I opt for a "bucket bath" rather than a solar shower. I can bathe in about 2 1/2 liters of water (not washing hair). No water at the tap again for most of the week, so I'm being very careful. The method is to pour hot water from the kettle into the blue bowl, then add enough cool water from the bucket to make it comfortable. Wash face and neck. Dump the water into the big tub, refill and do upper half of body. Dump again and do lower half while standing in the big tub so my feet can get wet enough to get clean. Then either empty the bath water into the thunder bucket to clean it, or use the water to mop the floor (which I do when there's not water at the tap).

Kids and Laundry

September 11, 2013

Didn’t realize it was 9-11 till I wrote the date. Not something of note here.

Kids. There’s an ever-changing number of kids here, as they go off to visit relatives, or return from visits or just come over to play. Monday I think I was the only adult here with about 7 little ones ranging in age from 2-13. All played together. One of the games involved rolling tires around the big house, laughing loudly. Then races, 2 at a time, with the other kids first yelling, “on you mark, get ready, get set, GO!!!” then cheering wildly for one of the racers. The 13 year old often let the littler ones win. One youngster had bike tire rim that he raced with a stick. He was good, too! Later the littlest ones went off for some indecipherable game involving baskets and lots of giggles.

When the adults returned, it was time to go get water from the tap. The kids put 5 gallon buckets in a wheelbarrow and trekked off to the tap. I needed water, too, and went along with my own wheelbarrow. The kids took turns riding and pushing on the way. Lots of kids at the tap, with lots of laughter and mock-chases. I turned around to find the 2 year old had followed us. I loaded my water jugs and the kids loaded theirs, and we started off. I went faster, so when I headed back for my second trip, I found Beke, the 2 year old, had hitched a ride with the 80 pounds of water jugs on the kids’ wheelbarrow!

These kids are kind to each other, and everyone works, even the littlest ones, who carry washtubs of corncobs for the outdoor kitchen to be used as fuel.

Outside. There’s a cement drain under a huge jojo tank around the corner from my hut. I empty my wastewater there (except the thunder bucket, which of course goes to the latrine). Crumbs and compost go out the door and over the fence to the chickens and goats, unless it goes into a pan for the dogs. Most mornings Linda (that’s a he) sweeps the dirt with a broom made of branches and cleans up the detritus from the previous day. It’s becoming my new normal.

14 September 2013

Saturday. The whole family did laundry throughout the day. We started with Sibhamu and I doing a couple of water runs (one apiece, then 2 loads for her). At first it was just the two of us working next to each other. What is it about women working together? That kitchen closeness that draws us together and somehow evokes – what? trust? deeper conversations? Not sure, just enjoyed it. Make joined us, and more SiSwati entered the conversation. Babe joined us, and soon it was all SiSwati, and I was still there, but alone. What an amazing transformation! What makes us include/exclude others? What creates/dissipates that sense of closeness? Not at all sure..

The week was really busy. Can’t believe I’ve been here for 2 weeks.  On Wednesday I was introduced to the community, and those who weren’t at the meeting come up and introduce themselves. I’m not hard to spot <grin>, and try to be available. People seem to want help (read hope?). If they are willing to follow through, I think together there is a lot we can accomplish. And as people begin talking of their dreams, there’s a kind of magic that happens. I am trying hard not to get in over my head – there are so many directions I could go. At the least, I can help get resources for those areas beyond my knowledge. Many people want to start small businesses, and I can help them access training about what that means, though I don’t know how to do it myself.

And I’ve started working with the guidance counselor at the high school.  We’re brainstorming ways to motivate kids, to help them understand the importance of school, to find and encourage the ways they shine. Any input cheerfully accepted.

And it looks like I’ll be able to work with the school librarian to apply for a grant to get books for the library. All in all, lots going on!

Sunday. Woke to bird songs accompanying the roosters. The feedback I’ve received about these scattered glimpses has been positive, so I’ve decided to continue, rather than try to make them better and thus delay. Thanks for your patience with my scribbles, and for the comments and emails, which are always most welcome!

Sala kathle (stay well).

Pictures !!!

Michele asked me to post these pictures as she was unable to get them loaded. I love ALL of them!

 

First Week at My Homestead

7 September 2013

A week and a day at my homestead, and I think the operative concept is that things don't exactly turn out as I expect. Or something.

I wanted to go for a walk, so asked my Sisi to show me a loop route. We wound up visiting neighbors instead. Which was fine, actually, but not what I thought we'd do. One homestead has no electricity and all three buildings are made of hardened mud. A woman carrying a baby came out and welcomed us. In her yard were an avocado tree, a mango tree, and a berry tree (yep - berries grow on trees here!), a grinder for maize and HUGE succulent tree. Water was a ditch running along the hillside - no mean feat it this time of very dry weather.

At another homestead, the people were grinding maize. I asked if I could try it, and the elders (who looked younger than I) had to approve first. They did, and I did, much to the amusement of everyone watching. It's hard work! As we left, I asked if the young adults were in high school. No - lots of kids and not enough money for school fees.

Up the hill we went, and at the next homestead a young man said he wanted help to start a piggery. It's a dream. He also asked about getting training so he can sew. We stayed there a while, and the people across the road came to join us. One young woman just finished high school and is getting ready for the university. The other is in Form 4 (a junior), and saw me when I visited the school a few weeks ago. She said she's going to bring me some "sour milk" tomorrow. I hope she does.

Everyone is most curious about me. When I came back, there was a meeting here, and I went and introduced myself. One woman wants to start her own business growing and selling sweet potatoes. She, too, asked about America. Are there places where people don't have electricity? Yes. Where do they get their water? Most have water. Yes, but where do they get it from? Rivers? I was a bit stymied. Pumps, I answered. Most have wells - er, bore holes - and some kind of pump. The questions surprise me and I find them hard to answer...

Starting a business seems to be a popular idea, and I wonder what resources I can bring to help people get started? They need business plans, loans, and in some cases, reality checks, I think.

I went to a meeting of a youth group. After sitting through over an hour of SiSwati, while they conducted their business, I spoke for about 5 minutes. Not sure if I should mention that it would be a sign of respect to either let the guest speaker go first or ask her to arrive later. A good question for my Peace Corps contact.

I will meet with the community leaders next Wednesday, then hopefully will start visiting homesteads, doing a census and getting a feel for what people see as community needs. In the meantime, I'll go to the high school on Monday and talk with the guidance counselor about maybe teaching skills identification and with the librarian about working on a grant for more books. Lots to do, for sure!

I was typing this and my sisi came to say there is water at the tap! There's not been water for over a week. Many homesteads had to fetch drinking water from a spring that is maybe a quarter mile down a very steep hillside. Here, we have tanks with stored water from last year's rainy season, but it's for drinking only. To wash clothes and to clean, they drove a truck to the river. Peace Corps tells us not to use river water - it contains shistosomes - a parasite that enters through the skin. So I dropped everything and at dusk she and I went to haul water from the tap that is down the way and across the road (maybe 1/4 mile round trip) to fill my 100 liter water barrel and the water supply for the house. I pushed a (borrowed) wheelbarrow with 50 liters and she carried a full 5 gallon bucket on her head. We made 2 trips. I'm so excited! Tomorrow I can wash clothes (not using used bath water) as well as scrub the floor. It's amazing what delights me.

While we were getting water from the public tap, a car pulled up and asked me what I was doing. Getting water. No, what was I doing? Oh, I'm a Peace Corps volunteer. How long will you be here? 2 years. 2 years???? Yebo. Here? On this homestead. Yebo. He looked incredulous. When he drove off, my sisi told me that people think white people don't do things like haul water. White people are all rich and don't do the things everyone else does. We both laughed.

So I made dinner, and throwing the scraps to the chickens, admired the new moon. I steamed some very fresh Swiss chard and took some to the main house to share. Folks here like to cut their veges into tiny pieces and then cook them till they are limp and mushy. This was limp, but still had some texture. I poured rice vinegar over it and feasted on my portion. And dessert was some fresh papaya. The fruits and veges here are so fresh and flavorful! Can't wait for the mangoes to ripen.

You are getting stream of consciousness writing here - it's just that I want to share while the new is still new and not normal. So forgive my scattered approach and enjoy the peek into another world.

Ekhaya Kitsi Kukangwane (I am now of Swaziland)

Sunday morning I sat outside my hut and people came to talk to me. Umnandzi. It’s nice. It’s a good way to meet the community: they’re curious about me and I want to get to know them.
My thoughts are all over the map. Literally. No nice, cogent, well-thought out post here – rather observations that, like my life, appear and intrigue.

Questions. People ask questions that, to me, feel intensely personal. Why didn’t you go to church today? Are you married? Do you have children? Why not? Why are you doing this work? Are you Christian? How big is your family? Our culture teaches that we should answer questions, but I’m learning that just because a question is asked doesn’t obligate me to answer it. I am getting more adept at avoiding or not answering, but it’s hard. And of course, I can ask personal questions in return.

It’s starting to be spring, the end of winter and the dry season. The rivers (we would call them creeks, at this level) are very low, drying up. The community tap is not working. This homestead has a storage tank, but others are not so fortunate. Yesterday a young man, Melusi, a grandson who lives across the road, came to talk to me. He had seen me at the high school when I was here a couple of weeks ago and was curious. He showed me where others go to get water. It’s maybe 1⁄4 mile down a steep path (think San Francisco’s Lombard Street, or Ashland’s steep streets) to a small pool of water. If people aren’t careful, the pool gets cloudy with sediment. They fill 5 gallon buckets (that’s 40 pounds of water) then carry them back. The young women put the containers on their heads; the young men just lug them along. Teens at work...

Amazing how creative that made me in terms of water conservation. Managed to bathe in about 1⁄2 gallon of water (maybe a bit more) – solar shower works! Wahoo! and only a minor leak. Use the bath water to wash out the dish water basin and both to wash the thunder bucket. Laundry and floor will have to wait.

Melusi walked with me, unwilling, I suspect, to allow me to walk alone. ‘Aren’t you afraid?’ he asked, and was surprised, I think, by my ‘No’. He showed me a type of rock he found; he discovered it because it was heavier, for its size, than other rocks of the same size. It’s magnetic. He wants to be a scientist; he’s definitely observant enough!

All over the map. Yes, one of the things I want to do is a community mapping. Partly because I want to find places to walk, and partly because it will tell me a lot about how people view their community. I’ve lots to do. Tomorrow, for sure.

Swearing In

August 29, 2013

Today 33 of us will take the same oath that the President takes as we are sworn in as Peace Corps Volunteers. No longer Peace Corps Trainees, we will be the real deal. How intense is that? We understand that more than 200 people will be there to witness it.

We're ecstatic, exhausted, and - a bit terrified. Because, tomorrow the Peace Corps transport will take us and all our accumulated stuff to our new sites, unload it and drive away. We will be left with a list of assignments and an admonishment to get out of our hut every day. 

Till now the training has been intense: filling us up with information. Now, finally it's time to look OUTWARD, to use all this information in something beyond daily survival skills. Yikes!

So -  a few observations to share: 

As I looked around my homestead and community, I discovered vistas almost every day. Did my eyes adjust to the new, and begin to take in hitherto unnoticed details? Was it the gradual change of seasons, as Spring begins it's sneaky magic? Not sure, but it seemed the beauty increased almost daily.

Polygamy (men with more than one wife, not the other way around), although not all that common,  is accepted here.  At least one volunteer will be staying on such a homestead. 

There are 2 types of marriage: traditional and civil (though civil ceremonies may take place in a church or through a court, same as in the US). In traditional marriages, the two families will merge, become one family in very real ways. The results can mean many things, I think, and varies a bit with the individuals. But think about how that would differ from our own ways of doing things.

Culture is such a strong word, and covers so much. Tribal structure and culture is such a long way from the feudal and then industrial and now informational cultures of that we know. A grandmother, "Gogo" (a term of much respect), came to talk to us about the the traditions she fears are being lost as Swaziland grows. She spoke of how what it means to be a man, to be a woman, are changing, and losing some of the strengths that have served Swazis in generations past. It was eye-opening in many ways - gave me much to contemplate about change, growth, and how I can work with my community. With HIV such a strong reality, talking about sexuality must be much more frank than at home. How Swazis, as a group, view it is changing. How? And how do the individuals with whom I'll be working view it?

And boundaries: what is okay to ask? What is is okay to not answer? Personally? In a teaching situation? How do we address the the stigma of AIDS? Any stigmas, for that matter?

So many questions to ask. So many answers to evade me.