April 27, 2014
I think that there's a lot less outside world
stimulation here, so the day to day things are clearer. It's easier to be
present when there are fewer distractions from outside, if that makes sense. No
TV, no radio, precious little news. Sunrises and sunsets delight me, more
poetry getting written, watching the seasons turn, the night skies change.
Water, weather, crops, kids - more important. I think I'm more in my present
world... Oh - didn't realize that! Maybe that's one of the gifts of the Peace
Corps - being in the time and place I'm living, not living globally... I know
other PCV's pay more attention to the outside world - I just don't.
Interesting!
May 4, 2014
GLOW Camp! Girls Leading Our World. An amazing week with about 78 girls,
their club counselors, senior counselors, all Swazi. And guest speakers. The
girls walked in, some hot, tired from long bus rides, groups of individuals. A
week later, after sessions in art, team building, crafts, sexual reproductive
health, looking to the future and more. Those girls were –well, sorry. GLOWing. The Human Machine
(thanks, Maggie!) went really well, as did many other activities. By Friday, I
taught sessions on interviewing, and asked the girls to tell me, “How are you
unique?” They were able to fill a full flip chart page! But perhaps the best
example of the changes came the last night. Talent show. I think every girl
went up on the stage to show her talent, either individually or in groups. They
stood in front of more than 70 of their peers, plus adults. And they sang, read
poetry, danced, did skits. But the best was when the one young woman with some
kind of physical disability made her way, alone, to the front of that room. She
began to sing, a bit haltingly, and the whole room joined in. She led that
song, and it swelled and filled the room with sound and caring and solidarity.
At the end, she received the only standing ovation of the night. We were a
cohort, a strong group, supporting each other’s strengths.
I floated out
of camp totally exhausted and remembering why I’m here.
Now it is, again, the dry season. And again, the tap is dry for a reason
my family does not know (despite asking). The family is hauling laundry to the
river to wash (at least 1/2 mile away), though I will be able to wash here. And
talking of buying water - about 400 - 450 Emalengeni per month - a VERY large
amount, given the economy. Just to translate, at 450 Emalengeni, if I pay 10%,
(45E) that, combined with electricity would be about 9% of my income every
month. Doesn't seem like much, but... if that's for one person, and I don't
have kids, so no school fees, no school uniforms, etc. And transport costs are
supposed to go up 25% next month. That puts the basics of living pretty high
for folks.
May 10
Just returned from my first vacation. It was grand.
Went with 3 other PCV's - 2 will be going home
in July/August, the other has another year+ (like me). It's such a matter of
perspective. The 2 who are completing their second year were thinking about
going home the other one and I were thinking about another year here. The two
folks returning did all of our planning. They found an amazing backpackers
(hostel) online called Joy River. Look it up on FB.
Transport, as I know you've figured out by now,
is really sketchy. I'm thinking you'll be looking online at the places I name
here, so won't try to describe distances. But... we left Kelsey's at 5:15amto catch
the khombi to Manzini, and arrived by 6:15 or so. Then
waited till 9:30 for the khombi to Nelspruit to fill
up. 1:00 found us in South Africa, and we had
rented the car by 1:30. CAR!!! First private vehicle since we got here. Only
slightly lost in town, found great food, went shopping for groceries, walked
out into deep dusk. A couple of hours later we arrived at Joy River Backpackers
(we'd call it hostel). We only got lost a few times, and it was all tar road
until we turned off onto the track. Apt description. Narrow dirt road, rutted
and dusty. We bumped along and then our headlights found - Jesus? Really? Well
- could have been. Actually, it was Heston, the owner, with longish hair,
sandals, wrapped in a blanket and accompanied by a couple of dogs. He directed
us well, then helped by bouncing along at a trot, waving his flashlight wildly.
The quarters he had given us were - unique.
Heston directed us to a carport of wood and tin, then showed us where we were
to stay. he apologized for it being rustic, and - I guess it was. But to our
eyes, accustomed to living in one or two room huts with no running water,
no indoor bathrooms, no kitchen sinks... We were in heaven and told him so.
There was even a bathtub (if you didn't mind the rusty water) and a shower. And
the sound of the Joy River to lull us to sleep. Bathroom was made of stones,
and the tub emptied into a trough which went around the shower. There was space
for a fire outside and they made us probably the best pizza we'd ever had,
using arugula and lavender! but that was later.
We walked to Joy River in the morning, and
allowed the peace and joy and quiet of the world to surround and soothe us. Sat
next to a little drop/pool/drop riffle, just watching. Guess I was meditating,
watching/listening/experiencing the water dropping over the rocks into a hole,
the drops filling with air, bubbling, incorporating light into the mix,
ever-changing, moving but not in a straight line, altered, but the same.
Spent a whole day in that place of bliss, of
quiet joy, that fragile place I never want to leave, but which cannot be
summoned nor sustained. And wrote this poem:
I wake to
the river
Swirling in my heart
Sunlight sweeping softly
through my dreams
Chill of stones beneath me
Under foreign skies
Water dancing
music know to all
Listen in the moment
Feel the flow of time
Balance on the precipice
So uniquely mine
Yours
Ours
Divine.
~Michele
5/7/14
Joy River, South
Africa
We hiked, wandered along waterfalls, walked
through savannah then slipped into jungly forest.
Our first walk was to the Potholes. First the
Blyde River, flat, flat, dropping dramatically down into carved canyons, pot
holes (of course), waterfalls and more falls and more flat rocks and bridges.
Then up to hike what we thought would be about 8 km. But...
We walked through savannah, then dropped into
the woods, steep, steep. And then the two in the lead stopped, began walking
back towards us: we were warned off by baboons! They growled and warned,
patrolled, one on the ground, one in the trees, and let us know we were not
welcome. We tried going forward. The warnings increased. One, who has worked
with horses, is most tuned in to animal behavior, was totally spooked, and
though the rest of us were too blind to truly understand, we hesitated a bit,
then trusted her, and backed away, then left. Walked quite a while, sat next to
a creek to eat lunch and decide whether to try again, hoping they had left.
Nope. Not only had they not left, they were approaching with warning growls.
Decision made! We high tailed it out of there.
Later, we asked locals and they all assured us,
not there was not problem. But when we got back to Swaziland and internet
connections, we found that what we did was absolutely correct, and that the
baboons were protecting something - territory, mothers, whatever - and could
have charged and hurt us. Another reinforcement of trusting intuition.
The next day we drove to sites we found on the
internet. For the record, siyamanga! They are lying! Nothing was as described,
but some of it was pretty and we did laugh a whole lot about it. If you
ask any of us about "The Pinnacle" be prepared for gales of laughter.
We were saddened by the miles and miles and
miles of tree farms. Rows of pine trees being grown for paper. You know that
they are deeply damaging the land with single crop planting. And it was like
driving through a giant zoo (rather than game preserve). They clear cut to
harvest the trees. It was hard.
Overall, the trip was glorious. We travelled
well together, sharing quiet as well as conversation, calm and that something
that either is or is not present in groups. I'm so grateful to have found such
a group.
May 11
Mother's Day. Happy Mother's Day to all you
mom's, both physically and emotionally/spiritually/acting as. I think that
covers all the women I know.
When my body is tired, my mind wanders all over
the place. This coming week I'm going to a training on positive
discipline/classroom management with 2 teachers from my school. The question
has arisen for me: What makes us do the "right" thing? I asked my
host family, wanting it to be a personal, not rhetorical, question. Make was
not too interested, and Babe generalized it. He said that our actions are
designed to protect our territory. If we are aggressive and people fear us, we
can do whatever we like within out territory and no one will challenge us.
Makes sense - that we carve out some territory for ourselves, then our actions
protect it.
But I didn't get an answer, so I pose it to you:
What makes you do what you believe is right? You, individually, not you as
people in general. I'm not sure how I would answer that question. I'll
work on it, but don't want to let you off the hook by providing a possible
answer.
Some of what I've been thinking is that
Skinner's behavior modification theories were designed to answer that question.
But I think it's much more complex than that, that there are many answers to
the question, and all are intertwined and pieces of a larger whole. I look
forward to reading comments or emails in response...
