Surviving South Africa

Goodbye

2007-08-02T10:56:00.000+02:00

Today I officially lose my status as a Peace Corps Volunteer. In just a few hours I will be flying back to the states after not being home for two years. I have very mixed feelings about what to expect and how I feel about leaving. I'm expecting a lot of culture shock. This experience has been the most incredible of my life, and I will never be able to accurately put in words all that has happened to me here. I can't believe it's over, and I'm interested to see where my life will go from here. When I reach the states I will hopefully find a job, preferably in teaching, and go from there. Until then I expect to be a bit of a lost soul.

Thank you so much for all the interest and support in my projects here over the last two years. I feel that some of biggest accomplishments were a result of the help of the people in my life. Thanks also for the interest and for those who have been following my journey. Writing on this blog and getting feedback has definitely allowed me to examine my experience more fully and take more lessons from it.

Thanks again!!

Saying Goodbye to the Village

2007-08-01T12:40:00.000+02:00

Saying goodbye to teachers at Matshwi Primary School.
Guess whose?
Saying goodbye to my new host family: Andrew, Salphina, Thapelo, Kholo, and Charmaine
Kholo
Charmaine with her new scarf that I knitted her

Saying goodbye to Delly....it took us a while to stop crying after this picture.
Saying goodbye to Khutso.
Traditional dress #1
Traditional dancing at my farewell function.
Me in traditional dress #2 saying goodbye to one of my teachers: Modjadji

The Playground

2007-08-01T12:08:00.000+02:00

Climbing

Playground
Preschool children climbing

Preschool teacher swinging
Me and Shebo

Painting the tires
Installing the equipment
Parents helping install equipment
Painting equipment
Breaking the ground for the equipment

Finally, after a multitude of obstacles to overcome, I completed my last project as a Peace Corps Volunteer: a playground. I was so happy with the results and feel that it is the best project I did during my service. It had so many side effects that I simply wasn't expecting. For one example of many, I have never seen so much parental involvement and interest in the school. My parents kept thanking me for allowing their children to finally be "treated like white children." On my last day at site the kids were allowed to play on the equipment for the first time. Their reactions were classic and wonderful. It's amazing to see them so blissfully happy. Thank you so much for all the support I received regarding this project.

Pictures from trip with Mom and Aunt Joni

2007-08-01T11:35:00.000+02:00

Lighthouse at Cape Point
Monkey and I at Kruger National Park.
Mom and I at Table Mountain.
Mom and monkey at Kruger National Park.
My new host family. The parents are in their traditional wedding outfits.

Me at Cape Point
Mom and I at the Cycad nature reserve.
Joni and I at the Cycad Nature Reserve.

Joni and Mom at Kruger National Park.

Me with my youngest host brother.
Mom at the beach.
My two Moms.

Cape Buffalo

Painting tires for the Playground

2007-06-29T14:19:00.000+02:00

My painting helpers and I.

Getting started

Finished Product

Leaving

2007-06-28T10:58:00.000+02:00

I officially got approval to leave the country at the beginning of August. This means one month left of Peace Corps service left. I guess I'm a bit in shock about the whole thing. I don't know how to say goodbye. I don't know how to prepare myself for culture shock. I'm waiting for it to hit me....

Playground Update

2007-06-28T10:54:00.000+02:00

My playground project has been fully funded!! This means that I have two weeks to finish it before I go back to California (school break until mid-July so I'm stuck until then). I'm a bit stressed about the whole thing, but I'm sure it will get completed in time. I did spend a day last week painting tires with some of the kids to border the yard where we are putting it (I'll post pictures of our work so far soon). The kids seem really excited and it will be nice to see them having somewhere to play as oppose to chasing each other with sticks.

Returning to America

2007-06-28T10:30:00.000+02:00

Lately I have been feeling down about returning to America. This has nothing to do with the current state of things there as much as my desperation to line up a job for my return; a search that has been fruitless as no one is willing to interview me from across the ocean. At this point I'm trying to be creative in my job search: I'm thinking of applying to a one room school house that names "trailer hook up" as one of its perks. I may send in an application to Best Buy next. Yet, in the spirit of things, and to pump myself up about being unemployed and homeless, I have compiled a list of things I am looking forward to in American culture:

1. Buying things in bulk. I can't wait to get a 36 pack of Diet Dr. Pepper and a small trunk full of q-tips in one shopping trip.

2. Pedestrians having the right-of-way (actually this is just a small part of the idea of the ability to sue someone if they cause me any pain or inconvenience).

3. Internet dating (where I can pretend that I'm not living on a couch and trick someone into going on a date with me).

4. Not being charged to use my own ATM

5. Free nights and weekend on a cell phone plan (note: procure plan, procure cell phone).

6. Personal space i.e. the woman behind me in the supermarket will not have her breasts supported by my shoulder.

7. Noise violations (God bless neighbors who call the police at 10pm if you're watching a DVD above minimum volume).

8. Book stores that sell books not written by Danielle Steele or Michael Crichton.

9. Hummers (just kidding)

9. Football and middle-aged men wearing a hat that dispenses beer.

10. Buying a drink and not having to pay for each item separately i.e. not a coke and a shot of rum.

11. Hole in the wall Mexican restaurants

12. 24 hour convenience stores

13. Celebrity gossip (kidding)

13. Actually, who am I kidding....celebrity gossip (I'm soooooooo behind on what Paris Hilton is up to)

14. Take-out coffee shops

15. Shoes in sizes I understand

16. Reclaiming names: goodbye coriander, baby marrow, brinjals, and rubbers. Welcome back cilantro, zucchini, egg plant, and erasers.

17. Videos you can rent for longer than a day.

18. Customer Service

19. Glutinous showers

20. Good pickles

21. Mall guards who don't carry around AK-47s

The Move

2007-06-03T14:45:00.000+02:00

My life, over the last few weeks, has been absolutely insane. Things at my site finally went awry. Allow me to paint a picture:

I have had "difficulties" with my host family for a sustained period of time. In fact, it has really been one "difficulty" by the name of Oupa, but one problem often leads to two and then suddenly you find yourself in a plethora of disaster wondering how it ever got this bad and cursing everyone and everything around you.

Case in point, about three weeks ago I came home from school. I had a great day at work. I had just found out that the hall we were renovating was completed and I could now transfer my library from its limited classroom to a locale that allowed walking two steps without crashing into an object. I was happy, which is not a state I always claim in the village. So I walked home, entered my compound, went to unlock my door, looked up, and realized that my house, had in fact, almost no roof. Apparently, my host family had decided they were going to remove the tin roof and replace it with tiles. Now, I respect this decision; after all, it meant an upgrade in lifestyle for them. What I was unhappy about was the fact that no one had told me and I had in the space of five minutes, basically become homeless.

I attempted to calm myself. This is Africa. None of this is surprising. It's a different culture. I know this. Still, I was annoyed. Thus I went into my room (that still had most of it's roof) to try to calm myself. This strategy was not effective as I soon found myself stumbling through the door after being assaulted with dust and debris from the construction overhead. Thus, I left. I went to go for a walk around the dam until it got dark so that the construction would end and I could cool down. It worked. I felt much better coming home. I had found a new path and walked by the river for awhile. There was no one around. I felt peaceful and calm. In fact, I could handle anything.

Actually, I lied. I couldn't handle anything. I thought I could but was quickly confronted with a situation that is always a bad one: teenage boys. As I walked back up the path I came upon a group of five guys. I tried to ignore them and go quickly on my way but it was not to be. They started verbally harassing me and by that point I had no temper so I did the last thing I should have and flipped them off. The response was devastating. I was surrounded and stayed that way for 10 minutes while they yelled "Fuck me bitch," "Kiss my ass" and other less pleasant statements until they finally tired and left me.

By now, I was in tears. I was almost home and I was beside myself. I walked back into the compound thankful to see they had finish construction for the evening. Yet, Oupa was there and quickly yelled more obscenities at me. I lost it and spit at him (no it was not mature but I didn't spit on him so I don't feel too horribly about it). I slammed my door and called Seth and Ivy.

Luckily, I have good friends who know what is best for me even if I won't admit it. Thus, they called Peace Corps and I was called back by my organization and told that it was time that I moved. I'm not a person who takes change well but by this point I finally admitted they were right and thus I went to bed setting up a meeting with my schools the next morning to find new housing.

By the way, what was left of my roof flew off during the middle of the night.

So to end this part of the story, the next day I moved out, into the nearby township, where I was to stay indefinitely until housing could be obtained.

While all this was occurring I was also moving my belongings and putting them into "storage" until a house could be found. We packed my stuff up and drove it to a neighboring village where someone had offered to keep my stuff until I had a room. We drove up to a house, exceptionally nice by village standards, and were directed to a small outside building to leave my things. As I wandered around the compound I realized how nice it was and jokingly asked my principal why I couldn't stay there. She said she thought it was too far and hadn't even thought about the possibility. We discussed it and finally decided that it would work, and that a teacher could always pick me up on the way to work to avoid transportation problems. Thus, in the typical African way, my principal and this family I had just met had the following conversation:

"How are you?"
"I'm fine and how are you?"
"I'm fine"
"Thank you for letting us store Makobo's things here."
"It is fine."
"By the way, we wondering if she could stay in the outside house also."

After some more detailed discussion and a quick consultation with his wife I was given a new home: one twice as big as my previous one in addition to having amenities I haven't seen in years such as a pit toilet without maggots. Thus, I now live with Andrew, his wife Salphina, their son Thapelo (grade 6), their daughter Charmaine (3 years old), and their 9 month old son, Kolo. In addition, I'm happy; really happy. I haven't felt this way in my village for over a year and the only question I keep asking myself is: why didn't I do this sooner? How could I have allowed myself to be so miserable for so long?

Playground

2007-05-13T10:21:00.000+02:00

So finally, after about 33 weeks, my grant has been posted for the request for money to build a playground at one of my schools. The following is the information for the project:

If you're interested in donating go to: https://www.peacecorps.gov/resources/donors/contribute/projdetail.cfm?projdesc=674-032&

Playground
LocationSOUTH AFRICA
Volunteer Coordinator(s)C. Burkholder of CA
Funds Needed$957.00
Original Request$957.00
Project Number674-032
Community Contribution$220.00 (19%)

Letseku Primary School is located in Rasewana (population 921) in the Limpopo Province of South Africa. Currently it caters to 520 children ranging from preschool aged to grade 7. One of the biggest problems the school faces is lack of classrooms which means that the preschool takes place in a wooden shack and the kindergarten class occurs in a small brick building. The children’s chairs all touch each other and the students have no desks. There is no room for these small children to move, play, or discover in their inadequate classrooms. Thus the students do not receive a beneficial education as they are often restless from lack of movement.

The Department of Education has promised that in the next few years the school will receive new classrooms yet they will never give a firm date and thus the children continue to suffer. The school has decided that one solution that would help alleviate this problem would be the construction of a playground. Given a playground the children will be able to practice and develop their gross motor skills as well as have a place to exert excess energy. In addition, it would help prevent children from fighting one and another as they would now have a place to entertain themselves during break and before and after school.

One final concern regarding the need for the playground is the potential for disaster without one. Letseku Primary School is located next to a dam that the children, who can not swim, often play by for lack of better options. In addition, it is located next to a tavern where many children play video games during break, an activity which should not be encouraged at school. Thus, a playground would provide wholesome activities for children who otherwise have no acceptable entertainment.

In preparation for this project the school has been involved in some fundraising events and has raised 140 rand towards the goal. One of the teachers has found tires to be donated for use in construction and there has been a call to parents to assist with labor on the project. Letseku Primary School now requests Partner Assistance to construct the playground.

Theft

2007-05-13T10:17:00.000+02:00

This week I had 400 rand stolen from me (the equivalent of a bit more than 50 dollars) and half of what I had left to cover me this month. I did not realize for several days as I had not checked my wallet. I had left it untended in my bag in the school office which is when I'm guessing it was taken. It was a blow because I have always felt so comfortable in my village and at schools, and I hate that it makes me hesitant and resentful. Not something that adds to my experience....

The Quest

2007-05-13T09:57:00.000+02:00

As my service begins to come to a close I am trying, in a variety of ways, to prepare for my departure. Hence, I stated my quest to replace myself with another volunteer. Recently I st down with my principals for a discussion regarding whether or not they were interested in having someone continue the work I've been doing. They enthusiastically agreed which gave me a positive feeling that I must be doing something right.

My own reasons for having someone else come in may be more selfish. In the scheme of things, I don't want the work I have done here to quietly slip away. I want constancy and follow-up, and for lack of a better description, someone here to continue beating positive education practices into my teachers' heads. In addition, my schools have good management and a handful of people who do really care. In that sense, it puts them leagues further in terms of development than many other rural schools. This makes me hopeful for them, and I want this to continue; something I think another volunteer could assist in perpetuating. Plus, I've had a good experience with my schools, and I want someone else to be able to have that experience also.

On this note, I talked to Peace Corps about the steps I would have to take in order to get someone else place out here. Unfortunately, I was informed that Peace Corps is not currently placing volunteers in this province until a year from now with the exception a few married couples. In regards to these couples, one would be working in education and one with a non-governmental organization. The verdict: if I want a volunteer I need to find a viable NGO for their spouse to work at.

Hence, we return to my quest. I brought this up to the principal of one of my schools. She was a bit baffled as she, like most of my teachers, doesn't live in the village thus wasn't aware of any organizations out here. Together we did some homework and through conversations with locals found out that there was an NGO and 10km away. Thus, we set out to find out what they were all about.

The drive there produced some doubts for me. I live in a very populated village next to a paved road, but go about 5km "that side" the road turns to dirt and housing begins to spread out. After turning down a dirt road, getting lost 3 times, and maneuvering down several treacherous ravines, we ended up smack dab in the middle of nowhere which also happened to be the location of the NGO in question. There happened to be no one there so we asked some men who were busy tending to their chickens if they had any information.

We ended up with a phone number and called a man who was partially responsible for this enterprise. Michael told us to drive out to the road a gain, he was currently at the church.

I quickly found myself in a Catholic Church, an anomaly in the village where the majority of the inhabitants ascribe to the Zion Christian Church. I have to admit that I felt comforted in this church where I immediately was able to identify everything and recognize the practices unlike many of my experiences in the village.

Turns out that the NGO stems from the Catholic Church. As I talked to the man in charge, Michael, an older man missing most of his front teeth which was evident from his frequent open mouthed grins, and read their mission statement, I began to regain the idea that perhaps this NGO could work for a volunteer. Their main premise was working with HIV/AIDS and TB thus they did home-based care for people living with these illnesses as well as providing care for children left as orphans as a result.

We talked, I gathered information, and additionally arranged a meeting for next week with the project manager who lives in a nearby town. I left the experience inspired by their mission and holding a tinge of regret that this hadn't been my experience here. All in all I hope everything pans out and both this organization as well as my schools will receive future assistance.

Dedication

2007-05-04T10:13:00.000+02:00

Recently I finished reading Dian Fossey's novel, Gorillas in the Mist. The whole book got me thinking about what it means to really generate change in the world, and I've come to the conclusion that it takes a level of dedication and passion towards a specific cause that most humans simply don't possess.

It seems that people who have caused the most metamorphosis have in fact given their lives to the ideals to which they prescribe. It is this passion which I find so fantastic. For example, Fossey spent 13 years in the jungles of Rwanda dedicated to tracking, observing, and increasing the ability of the gorillas there to exist. She lived without luxuries, alone, and tagged with a nickname that translated means "the woman who has no man." She constantly ran into obstacles: poachers, bureaucracy, etc; yet she still stayed emphatic toward her research and cause. In the end, she was murdered due to this dedication.

Her story also reminded me of another man I admire, Dr. Paul Farmer. Farmer is a man who has dedicated his life to providing medical care to impoverished people. In the Pulitzer prize winning book Mountains Beyond Mountains, the author, Tracy Kidder, describes all the years and effort Farmer has put in improving care in Haiti. In a time when so much of foreign aid fails, Farmer has succeeded through his immense passion to his cause. He is now working on replicating part of his programs here in Africa.

Perhaps what I find so incredible about these two individuals, and disheartening in myself, is the personal power they exude. I know I'm not a person who could dedicate my entirety to my village here. While I sit count the days until I can return to hot showers and the other comforts of America, these two actually game up all of themselves and as a result succeeded in making a difference.

Perhaps my real fear for developing nations is that the programs that actually make a huge difference, more often than not, cannot be replicated because the people who run them cannot be replicated. There are too few in the world willing to be a Fossey or a Farmer. My question is: What is it that can give a person that much heart, and what can I personally do to obtain it?

Happy

2007-05-04T10:07:00.000+02:00

Yesterday, as I lay in my room reading, I was greeted with childish shouts: "Makobo, Makobooooooooo," emitted from my open door. After an allotted time period in which I attempted to ignore the calls I gave in and investigated my fan club.

Outside was Mothopi and two of her friends waiting for me to appear for their entertainment purposes. The three of them, being typical preschoolers began exploring me: the texture of my hair, my nose piercing, my painted toe nails. As they pointed at my bright pink toes I decided to join them in their festivities and grabbed a bottle of purple nail polish from my room. I then proceeded to paint thirty dirt encrusted nails the shade of an iris while three sets of tiny teeth grinned and giggled at the physical change taking place before their eyes.

It is amazing the simple things which can make us all happy.

The Body

2007-04-20T10:21:00.000+02:00

Last weekend I spent in Kgapane at my Principal's, Mrs. Rangwato's house. It is always a welcome change staying there as she has running water and cable TV which means I get to relax in luxury.

I think that sometimes I will never get used to certain aspects that are acceptable in this context. For example, I was enjoying a bath one morning when there was a knock on the door. I answered affirmatively that I was in the bath. Unexpectedly to me, this didn't mean much and Maggie, Mrs. Rangwato's niece, came prancing in explaining that she needed to grab the detergent from the cupboard. So I sat naked in the tub in front of a girl I had known less than a day feeling ultimately uncomfortable.

Yet, should I have felt this way? I suppose my cultural upbringing has taught me to be embarrassed by nudity. Yet, here it is much different. If you are among women it seems there is no hesitancy to be naked or bathe. There is much less shame and self-consciousness over the body. People in the rural areas are much less concerned over their weight. Women are expected to look like women, like themselves, not like an image on TV or in a magazine.

I suppose that I like this idea, that a woman here, no matter what her size, can be considered beautiful. I like that women are not ashamed to sit topless outside when it is hot or that women accept each other without embarrassment. I hope this is one aspect that the influence of western culture does not change.

Taste of America

2007-04-05T23:15:00.000+02:00

Jenny and I with our first good margaritas in a year and a half

Meagan, Jillian, and Jenny
Meagan and I with our first Dr. Pepper in a year and a half (don't ask how much we had to pay)

Climbing up Table Mountain

2007-04-05T23:12:00.000+02:00

The Gorge
At the top....exhausted but accomplished

The cable car back down

Robben Island

2007-04-05T23:09:00.000+02:00

Meagan
Southern Right Whale
Nelson Mandela's former cell

Chapman's Peak Road

2007-04-05T23:05:00.000+02:00

Jillian, Jenny, Me, Meagan

Jenny contemplating the world

Visiting the Penguins

2007-04-05T23:01:00.000+02:00

Meagin and Jenny
Me getting chased by a penguin

Meagan and Penguins
Jillian and Penguins
Me and Penguins

Cape Town and the Aquarium

2007-04-05T22:57:00.000+02:00

Meagan

Jenny and I

Woman weaving tapestry
Eel
Star Fish

Visiting Wilderness

2007-04-05T22:53:00.000+02:00

Meagan and Jillian in the waterfall
Jellyfish
Jillian, Me, and Meagan Canoeing

Wine Tasting in Stellenbosch

2007-04-05T22:49:00.000+02:00

Meagan and Jillian
Meagan at the Berry Farm
Drinking coffee at the berry farm
Meagan tasting wine and smelling the roses

Wine Tasting in Franschoek

2007-04-05T22:08:00.000+02:00

Wine Bottles

Jillian, Me, and Meagan on our vineyard tour

Library Requests

2007-03-25T11:29:00.000+02:00

So...I have a request if anyone is interest in donating to my library. I would still like to have:

a few chess board/checker sets (cheap ones are fine)
puzzles (not more than 150 pieces, the kids here have never done puzzles before and really struggle)
flash cards (reading, alphabet, and definitely math- addition, subtraction, multiplication, division, etc)
Posters, maps, or other educational tools to decorate the library and to use to increase the children's world view

If you're interested my address is:

Cait Makobo Burkholder

P.O. Box 1237

Ga-Kgapane

0838

South Africa

If you decide to send a few things and are worried about postage then check out using M-Bags at the post office. They take a while to get here so would need to be sent immediately but are much cheaper than other methods of sending.

End of Term

2007-03-25T11:22:00.000+02:00

My library is finally finished and it feels amazing to have it done. Now onto building the playground....

I think this term at school has been the best one I've had. The library is up and running. We held a geography contest for the sixth graders and it was amazing the progress they made. I think they finally understand why I didn't drive here from America. In addition, I've been having a great time with my teachers. We had a sport's day recently and had fun traveling and watching the children play netball and soccer. Overall, I'm looking forward to next term (and slight stressed as it will be my last term here as a Peace Corps Volunteer).

But first it's time for vacation and after almost 2 years I'm finally off to Cape Town...

The joys of African Wildlife...

2007-03-09T16:12:00.000+02:00

So....I was staying at Seth and Ivy's one weekend and we had another visitor. Imagine finding that lovely critter, almost 3 inches long, crawling around your house. All a part of being a Peace Corps Volunteer I suppose.

Pictures from Library....not in any particular chronological order obviously :)

2007-03-09T15:55:00.000+02:00

It's been a while...

2007-03-09T09:44:00.000+02:00

The last few weeks of attempting to get things accomplished has been quite frustrating as the internet has been down at the cafe I regularly frequent and my zip drive has been full of viruses. Hence, my lack of updating. So let me give a quick run down of what's going on...

My library is almost complete. The last of my shelves were delivered this week, and I'm just waiting for 3 tables now. The children have started visiting before and after school and we've been having an absolute blast. They keep commenting on how beautiful it is. It's been really exciting to see kids read books for the first time that aren't text books. They love things like the snake books. They can't believe how large the reptiles can get. It's been really fun for me to sneak up behind them and scare them while their completely engrossed in studying the pictures.

It's also been exceptionally entertaining as they have discovered different kinds of books. One of the children found a pop-up book on the shelf and it had him giggling uncontrollably for about half an hour.

I also have a bunch of puzzles that Seth and Ivy gave me for the library. The kids love them and will spend forever working on one (it's interesting to watch how long it takes a sixth grader to complete a 25 piece puzzle since they've never seen one before; they don't yet understand the strategy of them). Each time a child finishes a puzzle he or she comes to me beaming and waits to get a high five.

Overall, I'm loving every minute I spend in the library and so are the children. It's great after all this time to finally have a product.

Library

2007-02-16T10:52:00.002+02:00

Last week I received close to 10,000 rand for the building of library shelves and tables from the grant I wrote for Peace Corp Fellowship money. I was absolutely thrilled at finally being able to proceed with the library. I have put down the deposit for the materials to build the structures needed. All of the construction should be done in two weeks time at which point I’ll be able to move my approximately 1000 books out of boxes and into the room for the library. I’m hoping by this time in March we will have teachers trained on how to use the library and students borrowing books. This is, by far, my biggest project to date and I’m thrilled that it’s going to be a reality, especially as my time here winds down here.

My other large project is building a playground at the other primary school I work with. Peace Corps told me that after my library project was fully funded they would post my playground proposal on to the internet for potential donors. This has yet to happen; it seems there is some confusion in Washington over posting this new grant. I have been in the midst of dialogue with Peace Corp staff and hopefully the grant will be up for donations soon. As soon as I learn that it is up I will place the information here for anyone interested in being involved.

Pit Toilet Chronicles Continued...

2007-02-16T10:52:00.001+02:00

I hope that this is the last chapter in my battle with my pit toilet. I noticed this morning that there has, in fact, been a hole started in the yard for a new toilet. This came as a result of some not so gentle prodding, on my part, to my principals over the fact that part of Peace Corp requirements for housing is a usable toilet facility. I can deal with a leaking roof, I can handle killing scorpions in my bed in the middle of the night; but I can’t deal with a too full, maggot infested, fly inundated toilet. Hopefully now I won’t have to…..

Joyce

2007-02-09T11:31:00.000+02:00

A few months ago I met Joyce on a taxi coming home from Tzaneen. She was an animated woman who immediately began a conversation with me about my life in the village. When she got off at her stop, she took my phone number and promised to call.

Thus, this weekend I met her in her village, a few miles from where I stay. She made me tea and we began an in-depth discussion of the education system as her sons sat on the couch next to us and shyly stole glances my way. Joyce was distressed; she wanted her children to have good schooling but couldn’t afford to send them to a good school. She was an out-of-work nurse desperately searching for employment. Her husband was a teacher. Since he made over a thousand rand a month (a little more than a hundred dollars) they couldn’t get financial school grants for their children.

One of Joyce’s main concerns was that her children had such little understanding of English. She was upset that the teachers did so little to further her children’s education. She recalled stories of teachers ridiculing her sons over various offenses and as a result how little respect both she and her son had for the teachers. She lamented about how they could possibly learn under such circumstances.

I talked with her about the fact that part of the problem was the teachers had no accountability: parents rarely made complaints about teachers, thus teachers easily got away with things such as corporal punishment and leaving their classes unsupervised for hours at a time. I told her that parents needed to get involved with the school if they wanted things to get better. The problem with this idea, she recounted to me, was that parents were terrified of the teachers and so in a culture where people typically avoid confrontation, this did not seem a viable solution.

I found it refreshing to talk with a parent who really was trying her best to give her children a future. Thus, I agreed to give her sons English lessons on the weekends. Joyce also wants me to move in with her which is tempting with the current pit toilet situation…

The Black Pouch

2007-02-09T11:30:00.000+02:00

Last week I was at school, gleefully sorting through six new boxes of books that had made their way from Strafford, Missouri to our library here. In the midst of my complacent state, one of the teachers entered the office with a request; the deputy principal wanted me to go through her purse and give him her digital camera. I began going through her cluttered bag with only a vague idea of what the case looked like. Soon I came upon a black pouch which I assumed to contain the camera. I opened in and instead found…a gun.

To put it mildly, I was in shock; what in the hell was a teacher doing with a gun at school? I quickly pushed it aside, found the camera and handed it off to the teacher as he left the office before I collapsed in my chair to contemplate…

In this situation, what do I do? Technically, I should have never found it in the first place. Now, looking back, I wonder if I just imagined the entire thing. The whole situation seems too fantastic to be a reality. Do I say something to her, a woman I find incredibly intimidated, especially now that I know that she feels the need to carry a gun to school? I suppose my only real fear, because I don’t think she plans on using it, is that the weapon gets in the hands of a student. Yet, this is only a vague fear as students have almost no access to the principal’s office. How is it that I’m in this ridiculous conundrum to begin with?

Geography Contest

2007-02-09T11:29:00.000+02:00

One of my side projects right now is a geography contest in the sixth grade at one of my schools. Basically, the kids are given a map to study for a week and then given a quiz on the map. For every answer they get right they get a sticker on a chart that is displayed in the classroom. Last week we had a quiz on South Africa and frankly, I was discouraged. Seventy-five percent of the children couldn’t label Limpopo on the map. Limpopo is the province they live in. Can you imagine if you went in an American 6th grade classroom and 75% of the kids couldn’t label their own state? It was ridiculous and a reflection of just how bad teaching methods are out here.

I talked to the teacher about it after and he shrugged his shoulders and told me the kids don’t study. I then explained to him that if the kids didn’t know something he just couldn’t ignore it; he needs to follow-up and teach the lesson in a different way so they can comprehend it. Thus, we’re team-teaching a lesson on South Africa next week. Should be interesting…

Pit Toilet Chronicles

2007-02-09T11:28:00.000+02:00

This is a current depiction of my pit toilet:

It’s full. I know that this is something I’ve complained about before, but there’s a reason. It’s really, really full. Just how full you ask? Well, when I use it I worry about the “splash effect.” So basically it’s beyond disgusting and just plain out unsanitary.

Summer time is not a good time for a pit toilet. It’s hot and I have learned that heat plus feces equals creepy crawly critters. Thus, there are a lot of flies. In order to emphasize what a lot of flies means, allow me to paint a picture: fly bidet.

Now the flies I can handle. If you wave something over them long enough they tend to scatter. Yet, they are not the only ones who have made my pit toilet into a summer retreat: so too have the maggots. The maggots are happy to stay in the bottom of the pit toilet: that is until someone throws water down it and then they try to escape to freedom. How do they escape? By creeping up the side of the pit toilet until they reach the seat where they can lounge in multitude. Not appealing and somehow, I’m guessing here, not very sanitary.

My host family bathes in the pit toilet (don’t ask me why, I don’t think you can get clean in there). Thus, they drag the hose into it and flood the area while they are cleaning themselves. Unfortunately, the pit toilet is built on a slant, one that leans away from the door. Meaning we have standing water in the pit toilet for hours after each bath only adding to the fly and maggot problem.

The Smell: I’ll let you imagine this one…..

My host father also dumps his used motor oil down the pit toilet. Yet, for whatever reason I can not explain, he can’t manage to pour it down the hole. So it’s all over the seat. Unfortunately, oil doesn’t clean up easily (just ask the seals) and thus the seat is more or less permanently contaminated with motor oil.

So what does all this mean to me….while to be blunt, I have to time when I use the bathroom so I can use the school ones instead of my own and frankly I use my chamber pot a lot more than I should. I finally decided I was fed up with all this. One of my housing requirements as a Peace Corp Volunteer is to have a usable, sanitary toilet and I just can’t see how mine fits these requirements, (the other volunteers voted mine “worst pit toilet” to let you know just how bad it is) so I finally complained to my principal and she said she’d work on it. We’ll see.... It’s interesting that the highlight of the next six months for me would be to have a new hole dug in the ground.

Library Donations

2007-01-20T10:56:00.000+02:00

Hey all....so my grant was approved for funding for my library. If you're interested in donating here's the web address and information about the project. Thanks so much :)

http://www.peacecorps.gov/index.cfm?shell=resources.donors.projdetail&projdesc=674-026

Library
LocationSOUTH AFRICA
Volunteer Coordinator(s)C. Burkholder of CA
Funds Needed$1,309.00
Original Request$1,309.00
Project Number674-026
Community Contribution$464.00 (26%)

Recently Matshwi Primary School has received four new classroom blocks from the Department of Education. They have decided that they want to use one of their new classrooms to create a library. The school, though highly populous, is without basic learning tools, such as books, in which to encourage higher learning. The teachers are excited about their students having access to literature and have been impressed with how much their students enjoy being read to.

Currently the school has been in the process of collecting books from both South African and American organizations. To date, it has obtained over 600 books with more expected to arrive shortly. In addition, it has created a library committee which is responsible for these books and for creating library times for individual classes. Some of the older students have begun borrowing books on a regular basis. For the school it would be beneficial to allow all students easy access to the books which is currently not possible due to the fact that the books are contained in boxes and not organized in any meaningful way.

Matshwi Primary School has been in the process of performing various school fundraising activities in order to build shelves and tables for the library, buy rugs and buy a desk for the librarian as well as chairs for the students. So far, they have successfully raised 620 rand but it has been as very slow process to raise funds in such a poor area while the books sit, for the most part, unused in boxes. Thus they are requesting funds to get the library up and running so students can benefit immediately from the literature and teachers can be trained thoroughly in the use and upkeep of a library before the end of Peace Corps Volunteers service.

Matshwi Primary School now request Partners assistance in the construction of shelves and tables as well as the purchasing of materials to complete the library.

Contribute to this project!

These project summaries are written by Peace Corps volunteers and their host communities.

A Letter from America

2007-01-20T10:54:00.001+02:00

This week I received a letter from a friend in the states. Recently she had spent some time in Tanzania doing volunteer work in the agriculture sector. Thus, I enjoy hearing from her because she’s a remembrance of my former life who can relate to my experiences here.

One of the things that struck me so vividly in her letter was her comments on coming to love her rural placement despite her suburban upbringing. Somehow that hit a chord in me. Regardless of all that I miss in America I do have a deep appreciation for my surroundings here. I have come to know the details of this place: details that didn’t exist, or I was too preoccupied to notice, at home.

There are so many things I love about my village which I’ll never have when I return to America. I love the sound that the rain makes on the tin roof- a ballad emulating renewal of freshness and life; a show from nature that drowns out everything modern. In such a storm there is no hope of using a radio or watching television; nature’s reclamation of the earth.

I love my runs, in the bush, surrounded by people’s livestock. I feel reverence for how the sun sets over the dam- mirroring the mountains- its fading light in beat with my fading energy. The water rippled by fishing birds; occasionally a heron wades on long legs in the shallows. Here I can be truly alone and untroubled with my thoughts as my muscles propel me down the dirt path and fatigue gradually creeps into my body. I’m free to review my day or make up tales of my future without the interruption of traffic and congestion. The only noises: the chattering of children, the tête-à-tête of animals, and the reverberation of the wind.

I adore being able to recognize seasonal changes here: how long the sun stays above the horizon, it’s changing position as it sets in accordance with the time of year. How, now, the mangos are ripe on the trees and tadpoles grace puddles with their scurrying. How green everything is: a salad of emeralds, jades, olives, and lime. The dam has risen, yet somewhere hidden just beneath the surface small islands and peninsulas plot their comebacks for the drier season. In just a few weeks the maize will begin to ripen in the garden and the food intake of the community will change.

People here take life in stride; the early morning will be spent tending the garden and later neighbors and families will gather under the shade of trees as the sun fries the earth. Here they will gossip and laugh: complain of their suffering in the heat, and each person that passes the yard will be greeted.

I always figured myself as a city person. I’m starting to have my doubts…

HIV/AIDS Project

2007-01-20T10:52:00.000+02:00

Over my holiday break, while I was lounging on the beach in Mozambique, I met a number of volunteers from other regions of Southern Africa. I recently received an email from one of them, Jerry, who is working on a HIV/AIDS project in his village. I thought I would post his message to see if anyone out there is interested in helping out.

Dumela!
Greetings from Botswana, Africa. My name is Jerry Knight and I am a PeaceCorps volunteer stationed in Seronga, a small village in the Okavango Delta. I work in the PMTCT program (prevention of mother to child transmission) and HIV education within the school. Our school is creating "Seronga HIV/AIDS day" on Monday, March 5, 2007. Part of our celebration is to have a poster display about HIV/AIDS from posters from all over the world. We are asking people from different countries to create a poster to join our celebration. Our village does not have electricity, so the children do not even have television to give them a glimpse of the outside world. I am hoping that this project will encourage the children to look beyond our village, that there is a whole world out there for them.

If you are willing to create a poster about HIV/AIDS, we will proudly display it as part of our celebration. The poster can be anything you desire. If you would be willing to write a small note about where you are from, that would be highly appreciated as well.

Mailing is a long process here (it can take up to a month), so we are asking that the poster is mailed by the end of January. Please don't forget to write "airmail" on the package. Please let me know if you require reimbursement for mailing costs. You can mail it to:

Jerry Knight
c/o OCT
box 5
Sarong, Botswana, Africa

Again, this will be the first contact for the children outside Botswana, and they are extremely excited. Words can not express how grateful I am for helping us with this project. Thank you!

First Day of School

2007-01-13T10:45:00.000+02:00

Khutso on his first day of grade 3

Khutso and friends playing legos which my Aunt Joni sent....I swear the kid does nothing else now. The family has started calling him "the architect."

My host father with our neighbor's baby.

Today is the kids’ first day back at school. I found Khutso alone and crying this morning. It kills me that no one takes care of that kid: that no one could get up long enough to make sure he was clothed, given breakfast, and had supplies. I did the best I could: gave him a pencil and piece of banana bread but if further emphasized to me how much I hate the family for not even pretending to care.

Our Last Day Together :(

2007-01-03T18:20:00.000+02:00

Becca & Lisa

Caryn & I

Becca, Me, Lisa

All Packed and Ready to go....

(right before we burst into tears)

Pictures from New Years

2007-01-03T18:17:00.000+02:00

Caryn on Tractor

Caryn Reading

Caryn, me, & the bear I knit her for Christmas (I have a lot of free time)

Our cottage

Pictures from girls visiting the village

2007-01-03T18:09:00.000+02:00

My Host mom, me & kids dancing kwaito

Caryn & Becca trying bogobe & chicken

Becca, Caryn & Lisa at the dam

Khutso and his friends playing with toy trucks (his Christmas present)

Mapula & I

Me, Becca & Lisa at the dam

Becca dancing Kwaito with kids

Becca taking pictures of kids

Caryn & I at dam

Mapula & Caryn

Coloring

Pictures from trip to Kruger

2007-01-03T18:02:00.000+02:00

Stampeding Elephant

Sunset

Wildebeast

Zebra

Elephant

Giraffe

More giraffe.....

Stampeding elephant again (side note: elephants are really big and scary)

Becca & Lisa

Cape Buffalo

Caryn & Caryn with Zebra

Pictures from Mozambique

2007-01-03T17:49:00.000+02:00

Me, Becca, Caryn, & Lisa at Tofo Beach

My sister & I

Becca, Me, Lisa

Ivy, Seth, Caitlin

The girls and Jason & Jerry (Peace Corp Volunteers Botswana)

Caryn cooking Christmas Dinner

Still Cooking......

Cooking yet again.......

Eating Pineapple

Lisa & I

Caryn on the Bus

Christmas Day

Caitlin & I

Ivy & I

Ivy & Seth

Becca & I

Becca & I again...

Me & Caryn

Me & Caryn again.....

Caryn & kid on beach

Village Pics

2007-01-03T15:18:00.000+02:00

Collecting Termites

Water Monitor caught by kids

Khutso and Friend

Khutso and kids coloring

Chasing and Playing with Balloon

Collecting Termites

Preschool Graduation

Khutso

Oupa Saga Continued

2006-12-13T10:52:00.000+02:00

Last week my family tricked Oupa into going to church so they could pray for his behavior to improve. Hilarious....

Drunkeness

2006-12-13T10:41:00.000+02:00

Last night Khutso's mom came over. Why she was here; I'm unsure. Khutso was off visiting his Granny so she wasn't here to check up on him. Regardless, she came in the house smelling fermented, as she always does, in her constant intoxicated state. As always, she came up to me and put her hand on my shoulder and began greeting me in the over zealous way that drunken people frequently do. I, especially after the last time I saw her while she was beating Khutso, felt no patience for her antics. In response to her slobbering personality, I removed her hand from my shoulder and told her not to touch me. In response, she slapped me across the arm. Mapula saw her as it happened and removed her from the room while I recovered from my shock. Later, she returned and apologized while I told her I didn't want to talk to her; she was drunk. Thus, she told me to "fuck off" in Afrikaans.

One of the things that really bothered me about the whole situation was Mapula and her telling me not to worry about the whole thing; Khutso's mom was drunk. Perhaps that attitude is why so many atrosities go unpunished here; there seems to always be an excuse why we don't hold people accountable for the behavior.

Domestic Abuse

2006-12-13T10:19:00.000+02:00

Last week I was having my hair braided in the front yard when Mothopi's father began beating his wife in the path in front of the house. At least ten people must have witnessed the event and for a good 3 minutes no one did anything but watch as he ripped her shirt and continually slapped her. Eventually, my host mom and dad yelled a few things, and after he got in a few more punches, he stopped and walked away leaving her sobbing on the ground.

She then got up and came into our yard where she sat down and everyone else basically ignored her for twenty minutes: no comforting her, no calling the police, etc. Eventually, when people decided she was no longer "tainted" they questioned her. She told them that she had wanted to go and visit her auntie but he wouldn't let her because he was having an affair with the woman next door to her auntie and didn't want his wife to confront her.

Later I asked Mapula why no one had done anything and she said it was because they were married so it wasn't anyone else's business.

Asian Festival

2006-11-25T18:39:00.000+02:00

These are pictures from the Asian Festival at the Thai Embassy in Pretoria. Mike and Jillian are doing tea pouring.

Michelle and I

Thanksgiving

2006-11-24T11:25:00.000+02:00

The ambassador's wife beginning the dancing.

The boys after a good meal. (in height order Tom, Seth, Dan, Omar)

Relaxing in style. (Adam, Cort, Mike)

Seth with and without friends. (excluded by Omar, Andrew, & Dan)

Ivy, Jenny, and I ready for the festivities.

Caitlin and Michelle grooming.

Me, Heidi, Ivy, and Caitlin at the dinner table.

I had Thanksgiving at the ambassador's house in Pretoria this year. It was wonderful. He even had butterball turkeys flown in from the U.S. It was defintely nice to be pampered.

Preschool

2006-11-23T10:02:00.000+02:00

On the premise of one of my schools we house a preschool. The preschool was started a number of years ago after the government made a push for schools to start providing education for young children. Unfortunately, after this push was made the government failed to support its own initiative. Thus, we do have a preschool in my village, but unfortunately it takes place in a shack and has no resources.

This, in effect, means that the preschool is severely lacking in areas that it desperately needs assistance. The teacher has never had any formal training. It has no resources, no supplies, etc. The government provides no money for the endeavor either in the form of salary for the teacher or resources for the children. The children pay 20 rand a month to attend (less than 3 dollars) which goes towards paying the teacher.

It is situations such as this which I often find so frustrating. The preschool was started because the Department of Education made a push for it but didn’t give any real support after the initial thrust. The preschool has applied to become associated with the department but has yet to hear back from them in regards. So, for now, the children are overcrowded into a tiny homemade room that does nothing to shelter the young children from the elements. They have no materials with which to teach or play. They have no trained professional to shape their minds. Instead they are sent to school, with the hopes of their parents that they’re providing them with opportunities for the future, while in fact the children are little better off than if they were to stay at home.

We need to look at this situation and the thousands of similar ones. Why is it that we cannot identify the problem and work towards ways of improving it? Why can't the government provide training? Why can’t they give more clear outlines for how the preschool can become government sanctioned and receive funds? Why is it always too little with seemingly no one to care about the outcome?

Computers

2006-11-23T10:00:00.000+02:00

Currently the government of South Africa is allowing schools to apply for computer donations. I thought this was great. After all, how many schools out here are without any sort of modern technology? I constantly see the village schools falling further and further behind the town schools as a result of lack of resources, many times technological ones. Thus, when my principal asked me to print off the application form for her, I was happy to oblige and excited about how interested she was in obtaining computers for her school.

Last time I was in town I printed the form for her, and while perusing it, I found a part of it that particularly troubled me. The following is part of the requirements concerned with submitting the form:

1. THE FOLLOWING DOCUMENTATION NEEDS TO BE ATTACHED TO THE APPLICATION FORM
a. SCHOOL PASSING RATE
b. AUDITED FINANCIAL STATEMENTS AS PRESCRIBED IN THE EDUCATION POLICY
c. PROOF OF ELECTRICITY SUPPLY OR PROOF OF APPLICATION
d. PROOF OF TELEPHONIC CONNECTION OR PROOF THAT IT WILL BE SUPPLIED
e. SECURITY MEASURE TO THE PREMISES

Now the part that I found so discouraging was measure d “Proof of telephonic connection or proof that it will be supplied.” I didn’t think this requirement necessary as you don’t need phone lines to learn to use a computer, only to have access to the internet. As the children here have never had computer training, they are by no means ready to jump into the internet in the first place. In addition, there is no way that the school could afford an internet connection regardless.

Perhaps the reason this made me so disappointed with the government initiative was the fact that rural schools need materials such as computers to progress but very few rural schools have access to telephone connections. In most rural areas there are not landlines installed. This effectively means that the government was offering computer donations to places with already more technological access, town schools, which often already have computers.

Now I understand that there are many urban and semi-urban areas in this country that are experiencing a great lack of assets, but often they have more access, understanding, and resources to obtain materials for their schools. Shouldn’t the point of an initiative such as this be to push failing schools farther forward instead of holding them behind? Why is it that so often that when we’re trying to do good for others, we inversely cause more negative consequences?

In the end, we’re still going to apply for the computers. My principal will attach a note stating why we don’t have a telephone connection and why we don’t need one to have computers benefit the school. I doubt that this will be effective, but we can always hope.

Background Information

2006-11-17T10:53:00.000+02:00

I have been working on grant proposals for library shelves at Matshwi Primary and for a playground at Letseku Primary School. Hence I’ve had to obtain statistics and other information on the communities for the proposals. One thing I had to include was the background information of the community. I thought I’d post what I had written to give a better idea of the average life of a villager:

Matshwi Primary School serves the villages of Matshwi, Morwasetla, and Thlabelend. All of these are Black rural villages located in the Modjadji area of Limpopo. The area is overseen by the Royal Council of the Rain Queen. The three villages have a combined population of 22,269. The predominant language spoken by the residents is Sepedi.

Regrettably, many of the villagers are unemployed. In Matshwi 60% of households depend on social grants for their livelihood. In Morwasetla and Thlabeleng it is 71% and 59% respectively. In Matshwi only 1 person in every 10 households has a job, in Morwasetla only 2 in 25, and in Thabeleng only 3 in 20. There are very few employment opportunities in the village. The few jobs available include running bottle stores (selling beer and soda), working at small shops (groceries, cheap clothing, and hardware), driving taxis, or working as a vendor (selling fruit, chips and sweets from their homes or at school). Most of those who are employed work outside of the village in the nearest town, Tzaneen or leave home altogether and work in Pretoria or Johannesburg. Unfortunately, this means that many of the adults who work in the large cities of South Africa leave their children to be raised by relatives, often times their grandparents.

The primary means of transportation of villagers include bus, taxi, and walking. Many villagers travel to town about once a month to augment the supplies they need with things they are unable to purchase in the village. This trip is expensive to the inhabitants due to their meager incomes. As a result, many of the children have never been to town or outside of their rural villages.

Most of the populace resides in homes made of bricks, which the women make themselves, and are then covered by a tin roof. Families with some extra income may build their house of purchased bricks and have a tiled roof. The poorest of families live in shacks often made from odd materials found through scavenging and covered with plastic in hopes of preventing leakage during the rainy season. Occasionally traditional rondavels, built of mud and covered with a thatched roof, serve as a living abode. The majority use pit toilets and burn their trash as a means of waste management. As a result, there is often trash cluttering village pathways since there is no effective waste disposal system. Villagers primary means of communication is through the use of cell phones since there are no land lines. Most of the residents obtain water by hauling it to their house by means of wheelbarrow from taps placed throughout the village. Very few villagers can afford to or have running water in their homes. Most homes do have electricity available.

Disease is a stark reality of village life. Many children have lost one or both of their parents due to TB or HIV/AIDS. HIV/AIDS is still a disease that receives great stigmatization in the village. Often when people die from this infirmity they are said to have suffered from a “long illness.” As a result of avoidance of the issue, HIV/AIDS related deaths are on a rise in the village with no real end in sight.

Matshwi Primary School was established 1977. It has a population of 880 students ranging from grades R-7 and employs 22 teachers a principal and a deputy principal. In addition, it is located next to a preschool that caters to 40 students with which it is loosely associated. The children of Matshwi Primary formerly paid annual school fees of 60 rand (a little more than 8 dollar) to attend the school, but beginning in August 2006 the school was declared a no fee school. Unfortunately, the Department of Education has yet to distribute any money to the school and the children and educators are suffering from lack as a result.

The children of Matshwi are enthusiastic and love to have opportunities to learn and participate in extracurricular activities. There is not much organized activity in the village meaning that children are often left to their own devices for entertainment. Many times this leads to older students acting out and causing problems. Matshwi is in desperate need of opportunities for their children to enhance their futures.

Dagma

2006-11-17T10:52:00.000+02:00

This week I have been hanging out with Dagma, a community youth leader who lives in my neighboring village. Dagma is a breath of fresh air for me; someone I can talk freely and openly to about village issues. In his white pick up truck and black bag he is a picture of something positive for village development. As I ride in his car with him, I notice how everyone seems to like and respect him. We can barely drive a few feet down the road without him pausing to wave and honk at a community member all the while his cell phone is constantly ringing.

For me, perhaps the most inspirational thing about Dagma is that he is an integral part of this village and is working for them. He grew up here, went to Matshwi Primary School, and still lives here now. Unlike me and so many other development workers, he is the one who will really make the ultimate difference because he is the one who really understands the issues of his country. He knows how to communicate effectively with the local inhabitants. He knows and understands why things work and don’t work in terms of development in a rural area. He is a permanent resident.

Talking to him is enlightening. He speaks of so many frustrations that he and the rest of the villagers encounter. For example, he knows there is money out there for development and is upset that so little of it is available for direct access by rural communities. In order to obtain grants and the like, he explains, a person needs access to computers and fax machines as well as an understanding of how to fill out the complicated documents. Yet, this isn’t a reality for anyone from a rural community who is trying to make a difference to their area. There are no land lines, computers are often prohibitive in terms of cost for residents, and most villagers have not had the training that allows them the ability to understand government and other documents.

Dagma has identified, for himself, problems that I often easily recognize due to the fact that I’m an outsider. He speaks of the fact that after the apartheid government all the Black people of the country thought everything would be fine. There was the assumption that they had been oppressed for so long and now that they had a new government, these new political figure heads would “bail them out.”

Dagma goes on to speak about how poverty has created so much ignorance in life for the people. He speaks of one thing that is different for Africans in general as compared to much of the developed world is a lack of visions. Once again he pinpoints this idea down to the fact that Africans have gotten used to being oppressed and looking to the outside for help. They don’t know how to help themselves. There is constantly this idea of blame: blame apartheid for our problems, blame the government, etc, but there is never any work towards a solution. The same people who blame do not also sit down in order to discover possible ideas to help correct these errors.

Dagma thinks the solution is a focus on education and transformation. There needs to be more leadership, more people who have the training to help themselves. In a nutshell, opportunities need to be created. For example, if a student from the village wants to go to university they should be given the knowledge of how to obtain bursaries as well as how to go about applying to universities, etc. We need to give people tools and see them through. We can’t just give things; when we do this we set them up for failure.

For example, in the village there was a dairy project that the government funded. They built the project, gave basic training to the employees, and then left. In the end, there was corruption and money was stolen. The government had stepped back. They had not performed continuous assessment. They had no system of accountability. Thus, there was failure.

Solutions to rural problems need to come from the inside. I, with my Western mentality, am only so effective in my understanding and solutions for South African problems. In addition, I’m leaving; I won’t be here in a year to continue to push certain ideas and projects. Instead, community leaders need to be identified: people who can work to help themselves and to help their people. People like Dagma.

Longing

2006-11-17T10:51:00.000+02:00

This is a portrait of me displaying the emotion of longing:

I stand, green shopping basket in hand, gazing intently ahead of me at the produce aisle of the supermarket. In front of me I am facing an item I have not had in the fresh variety in well over a year. Sure, occasionally someone will stick a syrupy one on top of my drink or as a decorative measure on a piece of cake I’ve ordered in a restaurant. Yet, a ripe item, recently plucked from the tree, and waiting patiently for consumption has eluded me for the duration of my stint in Africa.

Oh scarlet, ripe, spherical cherry of my desire why do you taunt me so?

There is no price. This is not a good sign. Items without a price tag are indefinable. Things that do not openly state their cost are often things of pretentious origin. They are not for the masses; they are there for those whom price is not an object or for those unlucky enough to assume they can afford them and be strung with the outrageous bill later.

I am not one of those people. Especially now. In my former life I could occasionally pretend to be one of those people, ordering a drink without knowing the price, and then later, after receiving the bill, have the knowledge that I would be eating peanut butter and jelly for the rest of the week, but the experience wasn’t detrimental as a whole. It is now. I can not do as I desire, grab the carton of cherries and carry them nonchalantly to the cash register where I purchase them without flinching.

I compromise. I find a man working in the store. He does a price check for me. The result is not good.

The cherries are 30 rand. For this much money I could buy 5 loaves of bread or 60 bananas. I could see two movies. At this price I am 15 rand short of being able to afford lodging for a night in Pretoria. I can go from my village to town and back for this cost.

I step away. This is unjustifiable. Goodbye orbs of sweetness. Goodbye spheres of succulence. It’s bananas for me tonight.

Khutso

2006-11-10T09:29:00.000+02:00

I was reading in my room this weekend (not that I do much else) when I heard Khutso crying outside. His mom had been visiting (for the first time in a few months) so I immediately assumed that Khutso’s emotional outburst coincided with her presence. I was already trying to avoid her at all costs due to the fact that I don’t like her for obvious reasons pertaining to Khutso. I figured that spending any time around her was likely to spoil any semblance of a decent weekend for me. After all, she showed up on Friday, stumbling, reeking of alcohol and invading any impression I had of personal space.

When I walked outside, sure enough, she was yelling at Khutso and beating him with a stick. Given that Khutso is already one of the most timid children I’ve ever seen, I doubt whatever transgression he supposedly had made was deserving of such punishment. Khutso was hysterical and the rest of the family just watched the whole scene. It’s times like these that make me hate my situation here. I desperately wanted to grab the stick from her and hide Khutso in my room but I am living with this family out of the goodness of their hearts and I can hardly risk antagonizing them if I intend to continue residing with them. In addition, I have to watch out for my own safety and making enemies in the village is something I prefer to avoid at all costs.

So, I did nothing. Later I gave Khutso chocolate and got out Memory for him, a game he loves to play. Yet, somehow I don’t think this makes up for the transgression of me not standing up for him earlier. I suppose it’s just one more instance of discouragement that makes me question if I’m making any effective change here. I’m conflicted.

Pictures from I love to Read Week

2006-10-22T11:05:00.000+02:00

I Love to Read Week

2006-10-21T14:26:00.000+02:00

One of the things I’m currently trying to accomplish at one of my schools is to have it become apart of the South African Readathon 2006 program. I think it would be a great accomplishment for a village school which doesn’t typically find itself encouraged in the area of literacy. Thus, this last week I’ve had an “I Love to Read” week to promote this goal, as well as to encourage reading with both the teachers and students.

On Monday we started the week off with a “drop everything and read” day. The premise for this was that every time classes heard a bell ring they dropped what they were doing and read for ten minutes. It was cute to see the kids scrambling to put their stuff down and listen to the stories their teachers read to them at these intervals. The teachers commented to me after about how they were surprised at how engrossed and attentive their children were during these intervals. I felt this admission from them was a huge accomplishment towards encouraging regular reading sessions to take place in the classroom.

On Tuesday Grades R-4 made their own autobiographies and Grades 5-7 dramatized stories they had read. The autobiographies turned out wonderfully. The kids drew themselves on the first page, wrote about what they liked to do on the second, wrote who they lived with on the third, and on the final page wrote about what they wanted to be when they grew up. I think everyone was impressed with the work that all the kids independently accomplished. The only thing I found worrisome was that some children wrote they wanted to be a tsotsi (gangster) when they grew up. The principal found it particularly funny that the children who wanted to be nurses drew them as heavier women since the ones that work at the clinic near us are all “big mamas.”

Wednesday was devoted to a spelling bee. The kids seemed to enjoy the competitiveness of the activity.

Thursday the older children came to the preschool-Grade 3 classes and read them stories. The kids seemed to enjoy having their classes “taught” by someone closer to being their peer than their teacher.

Finally, Friday was our award ceremony where we distributed prizes for both the spelling bee winners and children who had done particularly well during the week.

Overall, the event was a success, and I look forward to doing more activities with the school encouraging literacy.

Stares

2006-10-13T10:32:00.001+02:00

Today I was in town with my principal and one of my teachers. I noticed a few people staring at us (I suppose it's true that it's not common to see black and white people walking together in this area). What really struck me is that my principal noticed and commented "I bet they're wondering why you are with us." It's so sad that this type of thinking still continues and that to walk with the people I live with means stares for all of us that have obvious connotations. Oh discrimination....

Resources

2006-10-13T10:32:00.000+02:00

I got in an argument with the principal and deputy principal over computers. I thought that the teachers should be able to have access to the two school computers and the principal thought they shouldn’t, even if they were under my supervision. He insists that they will break them, and the school doesn’t have the money to fix them. So once again I’m faced with a case of having a resource and wasting it. He said that when the school receives more computers then the teachers could use them, but I pointed out that: 1. It wasn’t likely that the school would receive computers in the near future (and I certainly have no intention of helping them get any at this point) and 2. If they did receive them no one would be around to teach them to use them. He insists that if the teachers want to learn to use computers they should pay and take classes.

Then the argument side-tracked; the computers are located in his office and he discussed how he didn’t want the teachers in his office. At that time the deputy principal jumped in and used her line that she had been a South African teacher for 30 years and people would never be allowed to go freely in the principal’s office. What she happens to overlook is the fact that this is not her “South African” school- this is a village school and different than her former town school that had money and a computer in every classroom where she used to work. This school has few resources and those happen to be kept in the principal’s office: the TV and computers are there (both off limit to teachers for fear of breaking), the copy machine, the stapler, paper, the school stamp, etc. If the principal wants total control over the office then fine, but put school materials in the resource room.

It is no wonder people are hesitant about donating and helping village schools….

Discipline

2006-10-13T10:31:00.000+02:00

Today a parent came into school. The teacher had called the father because his child was continuously truant. The matter was brought up to the deputy principal whose response was to first criticize the child’s appearance- “get your hands out of your pockets, tuck in your shirt, why aren’t you wearing shoes?” She then went on to tell the child she going to have him expelled if he didn’t start behaving. I saw a number of fallacies in this whole exchange:

More than likely the child doesn’t have shoes because he can’t afford them. Telling a child we are embarrassed by his appearance probably doesn’t accomplish much other than further antagonizing him from the educational system. Many of these children have no real control over their appearance- they don’t have the money to look how we would like them to look.

Never once was the child asked why he wasn’t coming to school or what he wanted to do when he was older. To me, emphasizing the importance of school takes precedent over provoking a child further.

One of the things I have never understood is the idea of suspending or expelling a truant child. This seems to be a further reward for the child. Expelling the child will only kill his chance for any type of education and will lead him to be a problem for the community.

In the end, why don’t we take more interest in our children; exert more effort? Why not discover the root of the problem and try to solve it instead of just making it try to disappear as a momentary solution?

Thank You

2006-10-13T10:30:00.000+02:00

So sometimes, when I’m about to kill the teachers and say screw all of it, something acts to remind me that I’m here for the kids, and they’re the ones I really care about.

Confidence, a grade 7 student who is extremely bright, wrote me the following letter which reminded me why I’m a Peace Corps Volunteer.

Dearest Teacher Cait,

This year is now over and I know you are leaving South Africa (side note: I’m not but she’s leaving the village to go to school in Polokwane so I think she equates this to me leaving) the home or country of passion, love, care, comfort, and ubuntu. I am so afraid I am going to lose a friend as a result. We are all going to lose and miss you. I hope one day fate will smile upon us and we will see each other again. To remind you, latitude is the space which confines the words he and she, we and I.

Remember that we meet to part and part to meet. God be with you till we meet again. Over the years you were not here I had a mountain which was so high for me but now I can see the light shining on me. I don’t know how to thank you for showing me the light.

I highly appreciate it. Thank you from the bottom of my heart. Now I am able to climb the mountain because you have made a bridge for me to walk on and climb the mountain. You have given me the chance to see the silks of mine and yours. You have taught me wrong to right. You are an angel sent from God. You listen to other people’ problems and try to solve them. You are a fighter of problems.

You are a needable and brave woman.

From: Confidence

Violence

2006-10-06T10:48:00.000+02:00

Why do I spend my time fighting with teachers over idiosyncrasies such as why it’s not appropriate to show a violent film to primary school children at movie day?

“But they like those films!”

Eish…

Intercultural Exchange

2006-10-06T10:47:00.000+02:00

Currently I am teaching “my daughter” Shibu to sing Queen’s “We Will Rock You.” It seems as if I’m really productive in my Peace Corps experience. Does this count as intercultural exchange?

Blyde River Canyon

2006-10-06T10:46:00.000+02:00

For September break I decided to go hiking with a number of the other volunteers. Thus, we went to Blyde River Canyon for a 3 day hike, which happened to be my first overnight hike ever and thus had me a trifle concerned. Luckily, it was relatively easily (minus the blisters) and each day the distance hiked was short (never more than 13km). Nevertheless, it was gorgeous.

You could see views for miles and everything was painted rich shades of green which I did not know was possible at this time of year when so much of the rest of the country is desperately praying for rain. We got multiple opportunities to swim in rivers and see cascading waterfalls. So often, especially in the village, I forget the properties of nature and how easily you can lose yourself in it; in the breezes through the grasses, in the chattering of birds, the sounds of flowing water, the friendly calls of baboons (kidding they happen to be quite irritating though interesting to view as they sprint down hillsides).

At night you see everything the sky has to offer: the dense clouds of the Milky Way, satellites as they roved silently above, shooting stars as they lost themselves to the atmosphere; all the views I both forgot about and had no idea existed coming from the light pollution of LA. Sleeping under that expanse, me such a miniscule dot and it such an engulfing mass, leaves the brain cluttered and uncomprehending of how it could even be possible; how anything could be so old, how anything of such perfection has the capability of forming in the first place. It makes so much else seem desperately insignificant.

Art and Culture Day Pics 2

2006-10-06T10:39:00.000+02:00

Art and Culture Day Pics 1

2006-10-06T10:26:00.000+02:00

Art and Culture Day

2006-10-06T10:21:00.000+02:00

The last week of third term I was lucky enough to experience Art and Culture Day. This display represented various types of traditional aspects of the culture in addition to being entwined with some more “modern” influences. Highlights included a gumboot dance, kwaito and jazz dancing, traditional dancing, a drama about HIV/AIDS (which of course caused everyone to inappropriately laugh when the main character contracted HIV- inappropriate laughing seems to be a common theme in this culture when it comes to rape scenes, HIV/AIDS, or basic violence of any kind, I suppose I just have a different idea of appropriate reactions). Perhaps my favorite part of the program included “miming” which, contrary to my initial expectations, was actually children singing popular songs. I particularly enjoyed the rendition of Enrique Iglesias’s “I Can Be Your Hero.”

In addition to everything else, my teachers decided I got the honor of being their Barbie for the day. Thus, I was herded into the office where I was poked and prodded into a traditional costume which left my principal happily lamenting that I was a “Bolobedu Girl;” a reference which I find to be quite catching. Perhaps I could bring the trend back to the US: “I wish they all could be Bolobedu girls.” I also more or less found myself having a daughter (an absolutely adorable preschooler by the name of Shibu who was contentedly curled up in my lap for the majority of the day). I do appreciate the affection. Overall, a fun day at school.

Hospital

2006-09-23T09:25:00.001+02:00

My host father has been forced into the hospital on account of his TB. It’s not looking good…

Knives

2006-09-23T09:25:00.000+02:00

Today, I was walking out of the school grounds when I happened on four young teenage boys brandishing knives. They did not seem as if they were about to cause trouble; instead they seemed more focused, in the way most 14 year olds are, on looking cool. In order to achieve this they spent their efforts flipping the blades to a rhythmic beat that seemed to accentuate the image they were attempting to portray.

I confronted them which didn’t particularly have any real effect considering their limited English and my equally limited Sepedi. The conversation went something like this:

“Why do you have knives?” (in this corner Cait)
Blank stare (from corner “cool” teenage boys)
“You need to leave you can’t be by a school with knives.”
Blank stares
“It is illegal to have knives at a school. We can call the police.”
“No, it’s not illegal to have knives,” responded corner “cool” teenage boys indignantly.
“Wanna bet? It is illegal to have them at school around kids. Want me to call the police so you can find out?”
Stare of loathing aimed at me from team “cool” teenage boys
“Put them away.”

I walked off then. There wasn’t much else to do. From what I can tell no children were harmed in the incident but it does make me worry for the future.

The Smells of Summer

2006-09-23T09:23:00.000+02:00

The Smells of Summer

One of the ways I can tell summer is upon us, besides the obvious rise in temperature, is the smells. The rain, very slowly, is casting occasional storms scenting the air with the wet dirt aroma that wafts from the ground and makes me imagine new beginnings and the shades of green that will arrive persuading the surrounding mountains out of their dull slumber and into their riveting exquisiteness, like beautiful maidens escaping from a tower in which they’ve been locked away.

Yet not all smells are smells of rain, of freshness. The smells of humans; masked often before by the colder weather, embolden themselves with their sour return. Now, when I sit in a taxi, all of my senses are attacked, particularly my nasal cavity, as the heavy musk of perspiring bodies hangs like smoke in the enclosed vehicle.

Of all of the scents, both pleasant and pungent, the one I have to run from, avoid at all cost, is that of cow intestines boiling on the stove. For whatever particular logic it seems that my host mom only eats this specific delicacy in hot weather, thus increasing the noxious odor emitted. I know the intestines have been cleaned, but still they manage to emit a raw perfume of combined staleness and rot, a scent that lies heavily in the air: a seeping smell that slips under my closed doors and through the cracks of my window managing to turn my stomach and kill my appetite for anything, while I sit armed with a cologne bottle intermittently dousing the air around me with artificial fragrance.

Safari Pics 8

2006-09-23T09:15:00.000+02:00

Safari Pics 7

2006-09-23T09:13:00.000+02:00

Safari Pics 6

2006-09-23T09:09:00.000+02:00

Safari Pics 5

2006-09-23T09:05:00.000+02:00

Safari Pics 4

2006-09-23T09:02:00.000+02:00

Safari Pics 3

2006-09-23T08:56:00.000+02:00

Safari Pics 2

2006-09-23T08:51:00.000+02:00

Safari Pics 1

2006-09-23T08:39:00.000+02:00

Good Week

2006-09-15T09:07:00.000+02:00

This has been a good week. It is nice to have a good week leading up to your birthday (yes, this is a shameless ploy to get birthday messages from my readership- so for specific acknowledgement my birthday is the 16th, and I will be spending it at Kruger National Park hopefully zebra spotting). So for a quick update:

I’m almost done with cataloguing all the books I currently have for the library. Let me tell you, it’s quite a tedious task to individually label each of the over 600 books the school now has, but I’m proud of myself and excited about almost having a library (except for shelves; still figuring out that hitch).

Things have also been going really well with my host family. I made them spaghetti for dinner one night (which I can’t claim as a completely selfless act, as the electricity had been out for about 20 hours I wanted to use up my beef before it got really sketchy). This particularly pleased my host mom who affectionately refers to me as “my girl” when I do something that makes her happy. Other instances of occasions that I merited her praise: lending Mapula money in Pretoria, baking banana bread, making her a mother’s day card, etc- really I’m a saint. She likes to also thank me by giving me “cold drink” aka 1.5 liters of soda. Hence, because she had rotten bananas last week, I baked a lot of banana bread and with this weeks spaghetti…; anyways I’m very well stocked in the Grape Fanta department. Next time the kids come to play I’ll have to use some up on them (another indication of my saintliness or my only mediocre enjoyment of Grape Fanta).

Oupa has also been particularly nice to me (I think he wants more food and realizes now that I keep all my food in my room where he can’t steal it, and the only way he will be offered any is if he isn’t a pain in my ass.

So yeah… work’s good, family’s good, looking forward to the weekend. Good times, good times…

Fear

2006-09-08T09:33:00.001+02:00

Last weekend I stopped by the yarn store in Tzaneen to purchase something for a project I am working on. By now, I am a familiar face in the store as I frequently visit, if for nothing else, the pleasure of perusing the goods as I create ideas for my next venture in my head. The lady who runs the store is an Afrikaans woman who is sometimes very nice and helpful and at other times gives me odd looks that I attribute to be a result of my “foreignness.” After all, who else comes into her store with the strange requests I often have for things: circular knitting needles, stuffing, and zippers short in length?

In all the time I’ve been to the store she has never asked me about where I’m from or what I’m doing in Tzaneen. This is unusual, as Tzaneen is not a place typically visited by a hoard of tourists. Often, more frequently than not, when I open my mouth and give away my “accent” people generally want to know my background. I did not mind her lack of interest, in actuality I tend to open my mouth as little as possible in stores in order not to stick out, but it did seem a bit strange given the normal reactions I receive.

Finally, on my visit last weekend, she asked how much longer I was staying for (she must have established I was not simply a visiting tourist, and, I suppose, wanted to gauge how much longer she’d have to put up with my eccentricies). I explained to her my situation: living in the village, working in the schools, etc. etc. Her only response to this was “But is it safe in the villages?” I responded that I had now lived there for a year and had encountered no instances that really made me fear for my safety.

Only later, when the question nagged at me, did I wish I had responded differently. I wished I would have told her that I, in fact, felt much safer in the village than in Tzaneen or other cities. After all, in the village everyone knows one another and more specifically everyone knows me. I’m obviously not a good potential target as people are very protective of me and if anyone attempted to harm me there would be a large amount of “village justice” to contend with.

Perhaps what still nags me about the woman’s question is that it’s so often the reaction I receive when talking to Afrikaners. It seems so strange to me that this is their country and they live in such fear of so much of it. I suppose I understand where all the racial tensions stem from; it’s this fear of the unknown and the unwillingness to discover the reasons behind the fear. I wish I could share the good things of rural life with the people who scorn it. There is so much dominance of negativity in attitude towards village life that many people fail to see the spirit of sharing that occurs in rural communities. After all, the handicapped man who lives in the rondavel across the dirt path from me is often provided for by other people in the community. The children are all more self sufficient than any I have ever seen. Even at very young ages they are assisting their families instead of throwing tantrums or complaining they don’t have enough toys. Everything is much more communal, people tend to be more laid back understanding towards one another, something that is often sorely missed in the cities.

I suppose I wish for an idealistic solution; for people to look beyond the prior perceptions, right or wrong, and make a step forward in trying to understand one another. The divide that is often left because people don’t do just this contributes to so many of the negative aspects of the country: the crime, the poverty, HIV/AIDS. I wish people would realize that everything is interrelated, that when we choose to ignore or diminish a people, or leave our thoughts encased in fear then we are continuing the cycle that allows these problems to arise; problems than can not be simplified in terms of black and white because they do effect everyone. In the end, we all just need more understanding of one another.

Soap Opera

2006-09-08T09:33:00.000+02:00

Sometimes I get so frustrated with things that end up taking away from the time that teachers spend in the classrooms. Case in Point:

A man came to school today to file a complaint. Apparently, his wife used to be one of the cooks that made the food for the children at school. As of April she quit and told the principal it was because she was ill. Her husband came in to say that he didn’t understand why she did this at the time because she wasn’t, in fact, ill but has since found out that it was because she was in love with one of the male teachers at the school and he now suspects them of having an affair. He wasn’t sure which teacher it was and had come to school to find out so he could deal with it.

Now “deal with it” in South Africa is a relative term. More likely than not it would involve some confrontation with the teacher that included a gun or some other weapon. Thus, we are now having a meeting during class time so the principal can warm the male teachers to be careful because she doesn’t want to the man to come during school hours to shoot the teacher.

I don’t think I learned anything about this situation in any of my training. My school has become a soap opera.

Misunderstanding

2006-09-08T09:32:00.000+02:00

I think I finally have a firm grasp on a lot of the reason why city people versus village people don’t have more to do with each other, and thus, why there is such a vague commitment from the more urban areas towards any improvement in the rural ones. It seems, more than anything else, that people really just don’t “get” each other, and really have made no real effort to try to discover exactly what it is that makes the one group progress so much fyrther forward than the other. For anything to change it seems like we need an exchange case of “The Country Mouse and The City Mouse.” More clearly, a swap of placement in order for each sector to obtain a better understanding of the other, and thus be able to work towards improvement once there is real comprehension taking place. Perhaps the reason why so much development seems to fail in the villages is because no one has sat down and figured this out.

I was having a conversation with a woman from Tzaneen about the state of the villages and one of the things she said that struck me as so telling of the amount of misunderstanding was: “They don’t think ahead. Nothing grows out in the village. There is no commitment to the future.” I think her point was that she felt that villagers weren’t appreciating their land, and were instead destroying the one thing they had to their advantage.

Yet, when she made this statement I think she forgot what exactly the villagers have to work with. She complained that there were no tall trees. This doesn’t take into account the fact that many people in the rural areas still cook their food over open fire and thus need wood. Does having tall trees really seem important to someone when feeding their family is the prime concern? In addition, she questioned the trash lying around in piles. Then again, it’s easy to criticize the appearance of trash when you have a garbage collection system. With any of this, aesthetics are seemingly the last of concerns when mere survival is the main aim of many people living in rural areas. I can guarantee that many of the poorer people don’t give a damn that the taxi they are taking is broken and spewing pollution into the atmosphere when they have to get work. In fact, I doubt there would be little concern over the state of the ozone layer at all when just trying to survive through this week is the focus.

On the other hand, people in the village think people in the cities waste at alarming rates: throwing out extra food or milk because it smells a little sour. In turn, we all have our ideas about what is waste and that what everyone else is doing that’s wrong.

I think so much of the tension in this country so often stems from mere misunderstanding. People aren’t willing to criticize their own lives and like to place the blame far away in order to increase their own comfort. Yes, things need to change in the village to ensure sustainability of both development, and a world in the future, but so too do things need to change in the cities. It’s a Catch-22, everyone, everywhere is doing something wrong and until we all accept this, and work from it in the confines of what is realistic, then nothing has the ability to improve.

Mapula in the City

2006-09-08T09:30:00.000+02:00

For the first time, I visited Mapula in Pretoria. I can easily see that living in a big city is not in her comfort zone. One of the things I have noticed about Mapula is how much coming from a village has played a role in the way she now reacts to her new life in Pretoria. I see her confining herself to a very small circle; not particularly willing to step out of the comfort zone she regularly inhabits. I do understand this because I do the same thing in the village- not really diverging my running paths, using the same stores, often avoiding people I’m not familiar with, etc. Perhaps I didn’t notice how much I did this until I noticed Mapula doing it.

I think one of the things about the whole situation that really strikes me is the fact that I know Pretoria better than Mapula, and have been more places than she has even though I’ve only spent an accumulated two weeks there and she has now lived there for about 9 months. When I was there I wanted her to meet me at a particular mall which was easy for us to both get to, but which she really didn’t want to go to since she had never been there before. I didn’t want to try and find her apartment on my own as it was in a part of town that’s not the safest, and I wasn’t comfortable going there alone, especially since there were a lot of drunk people out on account of the football match that was taking place. Eventually, I did convince her to come out but only once her boyfriend agreed to accompany her.

After we met up we walked back to her flat which turns out to be very close to the Peace Corps office. The fact that she could walk to the mall where we met (which she hadn’t done she’d taken a taxi) yet had never been to the area struck me as odd. It soon became evident that she spent most of her time either in her flat or in the library, and thus I immediately realized why she was so miserable in Pretoria. She really didn’t have any friends and hadn’t made any real effort to get involved with anything. She didn’t particularly get along with her flat mates which seemed to have a lot to do with her being antisocial. In fact, it seemed she spent most of her time simply sitting in her room.

After feeling really critical of her behavior I started thinking about myself. More often than not, how much time do I spend alone reading, writing, or knitting in my room? Which villagers do I try to make friends with and hang out with? After all, besides my family and the children, I really don’t spend much time with anyone in my village, especially anyone near my age. A lot of it has to do with language barriers but a lot of it also has to do with the fact that I don’t seek out people and seemingly many are intimidated by me to ask for my company.

Am I really that different from Mapula? Am I really the own cause of my loneliness much of the time? How far can I push my comfort zone so I feel a part of my village? Will I always feel like an outsider?

1 year down 14 months to go

2006-08-18T11:52:00.000+02:00

Today is my one year anniversary of my arrival in South Africa!!

Thus I present a few random thoughts of my first year:

1. I wish I would have learned the language better...sometimes...it also works well to play dumb when being harassed by drunk men and not hearing the women gossip about how fat I'm getting and how my pants are wrinkled.

2. If you are vain about your hair, and refuse to cut it short, you will inevitably end up housing cockroaches and/or scorpions at some point during your South African stay.

3. Warning: stairs in front of room, when wet, due to excessive polishing , are extremely slippery, remember this when you walk out to empty your "chamber pot"....

4. The kids make it all worth it- whether its coloring with them, playing football, playing games- anything- they will keep you from going insane.

5. South Africans call erasers "rubbers" knowing this is good- not leads to interesting exchanges with your principal

6. Stomachs can handle anything- I scoff at American hygiene- chicken that has been sitting out for a day as well as warm yogurt are both consumable products.

7. There is a correlation between the amount of time we spend at site and how much hair male volunteers have.

8. I read 4 books a week and constantly knit- I'm thinking this means I need to adopt more secondary projects.

9. I have learned, from my host family, that running will make me fat and eating pap will make me healthier.

10. Luckily, the people in the village expect me to be eccentric, I like to appease their view of me by randomly breaking into song and dance or by making face at small children- I think we're all happier when I act this way.

11. I have really bad days likewise I have really good days- is it worth it? I'm not always sure- but sometimes I think so- like when kids come and ask me to borrow books or a principal complains about a problem in the school and wants to dedicated themselves to fixing it or a child's face lights up as they yell "Sesi Makobo" all the while waving so desperately in such a manner that I fear they may dislocate a shoulder- then its worth it.

Today was one of those days...

2006-08-18T11:51:00.000+02:00

Today is one of those days…one of those days when nothing seems to go right, everything’s a mess, and one frustration continuously compounds another. I know this is partially my fault, because one incident put me in a bad mood I find all instances that follow to irritate me to a degree that they would perhaps otherwise not. The following is my day thus far:

Story 1

Yesterday I discovered that the money I had fundraised for shelves for the library was “missing.” There is a very obvious and easy explanation for this: the school had some bill they couldn’t pay, but instead of problem solving in order to come up with a legitimate way to pay the owed money they used the funds I had raised. When I found this out I was not happy; the word furious does not even begin to cover it in fact, but I was left to fume as the principal was not at the school for me to confront him.

Thus, the day did not start off well. It began with a confrontation, something I notice that the villagers I live with and around will do anything to avoid, even if it means telling lies. The principal, when confronted, became very angry, but not at me, instead at the treasurer who he said was supposed to keep that information from me and had no right to disclose that information. This new information, the fact of the whole situation was purposely being hidden, goaded me against him. Our spat went something like this:

“The treasurer needs to report information like that to me. He can not just tell people about money matters. I do not find his behavior acceptable,” my principal said obviously attempting to diffuse the attention away from himself.

“But this is a school. People should know what their money is being used for. Money matters can’t be kept secret in this environment,” I vehemently spat back.

“We were going to reimburse the money. It was not going to be a problem.”

“When? When were you going to reimburse the money? What if I had come and told you I found a sale on shelves? What were you going to do then?”

“It is not okay that they told you about the money.”

“The parents knew we were fundraising for shelves. THAT was what they spent their money on. You could be sued if they found out you didn’t use the money for what they were told it was being spent on.”

My impassioned irritation went on against his avoidance and the circularity continued. At some point I gave up and sat at the computer and played FreeCell as my strike against doing work especially when the work I had been doing was obviously not effective.

At some point later in the day, after I heard much arguing from a conjoining room, the money appeared. I’m not exactly sure where it came from as it definitely wasn’t the same money I had collected nor do I really want to ask because I’m sure it was money raised for some other purpose but used now to appease “the crazy American.”

Story 2

I went to Nelson Mandela Barloworld High School to pick up an application for Lucky, a bright student who I want to make sure goes to a decent high school next year. The principal of the school was not there so I was left with the receptionist who doesn’t really know me. When I explained to her what I wanted she said I needed to write an application letter. I was confused since I had interpreted that he would need to fill out a form. Thus I asked what the letter was supposed to contain. She looked at me like I was an idiot and then told me it needed the name of the student and the grade. I asked her what else. She gave me another look that said “why are you so dumb,” and said that was all. I didn’t understand how that could be all. She handed me a piece of paper which I took notes on what I thought the letter was supposed to include. I got another “dumb look” and she said I was supposed to write the letter on the paper. In the end I left confused and frustrated.

When I got back in the car where the principal of Matshwi was waiting I told him what had happened. He explained that I needed to write an “application letter” to apply to get an application form. He also said that it was a shame the principal wasn’t there because she would have just given me the form since we had been regularly discussing Lucky’s situation. In the end, it means I will have to take at least two other trips out there which is very inconvenient for all involved and didn’t improve my mood.

Story 3

I got back to Matshwi after the last experience and stopped by the library room to check in since it was open and unlocked. I immediately noticed that the teachers had moved the fridge and other staff room appliances into it. When I asked the teacher sitting there about it he basically ignored me. I then noticed that some of the posters I had put up in the room were missing. I asked him about that, and he said some of the teachers had taken them to put in their classrooms. I explained, patiently, that the posters were for the library and that they needed to be put back. He then proceeded to tell me that this room wasn’t going to be the library since it was the computer room. I replied that it was, that the principal had approved it, and that they didn’t need a computer room as the school had no computers.

“But what if we get computers?”
“Then we will move the library then, but if you get computers you most likely will only get a few and they can be put in the library too.”
“But what if someone donates a lot?”
“I don’t know of anyone who is going to donate to you 40 computers, and I don’t know of any teacher applying to get computers currently.”

This proceeded as he then went on to ask what we were doing about shelves. I told him I was attempting to get them donated and we were also raising money. He then told me we needed steel shelves. I told him we most likely could not afford steel shelves. He told me the government was going to give the school money in September. My response, “the school has a lot of things they need to buy we can’t use al l the money on shelves.” His response, “while we only need one big shelf there aren’t very many books” (he obviously hasn’t looked recently because we have about a thousand books now), and I explained we would be receiving more.

Then I left because, frankly, I was sick of talking to him.

Story 4

I walked back to the office. About five minutes later the same teacher came to see me:

“Makobo are you busy?”
“What do you want help with.”
“I need you to type me this letter,” he said handing his teacher’s manual that had an address in it where you could write for to receive current statistics in the country.
“I will not type the letter for you. You can write the letter out and then I will show you how to use the computer to type it.”
“But I need it right away.”
“It won’t take long to type. It will be a short letter and I will show you how.”
“When?”
“Anytime you want. I will be here the rest of today and tomorrow. You could come after school.”
“But that is only half an hour.”
“You could stay longer,” I replied annoyed now by the expectation of me doing his work for him and his incredulity that he would have to do it himself.
“No I can’t do that. They can’t make us stay so late. You must do it for me.”
I ignored him on this comment and thought that maybe he should have been doing work instead of sitting around twiddling his thumbs in the now library/staff room and then I got angry with him.

“What will you do when I’m not here or if I’m at Letseku? Who will do it for you then? It isn’t my job to do your work for you. It’s my job to show you how to do it on your own. I will help you for as long as you want, whenever you want, but I will not do it for you. Plus, you sat and told me about the school needing computers but why does the school need computers? If you don’t know how to use a computer then how will you teach the children?
He replied (mainly as a means to escape my diatribe I believe), “Maybe I will come during a free period tomorrow and you can help me.”

Eish!!! What a day.

Library Update

2006-08-11T12:30:00.000+02:00

I am really excited about my work right now. I finally have enough books to start setting up my library (thanks to an especially kind donor from Stafford, Missouri). Currently I’m trying to get two of my schools to become National Readathon Schools, which involves quite a bit of work, but will lead to activities that I think will be wonderful for the children once implemented. The plan, for one of the activities, is to have an "I Love to Read" week in October with different activities planned for each day- I’m thinking big- but maybe, just maybe, from all this a child will learn to love to read and will thus love to learn and perhaps will make it out of the village trap and accomplish a dream that they have of success in some designated part of their life.

Confrontation

2006-08-11T12:28:00.000+02:00

I am assigned to three schools in my area but for the last term and a half have only been attending two of them. I have various reasons for this, but what it narrows down to is I want the work I do here to be as effective as possible, and I feel that I accomplish a lot more at Letseku and Matshwi than I do at Leakhale. Part of this has to do with management issues. While Letseku and Matshwi have dedicated principals who are in control of their school, the management at Leakhale is practically non-existent. As a result, anything I attempt to accomplish at that school tends to break down because no one is designating assignments and no one sets guidelines for teaching standards.

An example: earlier in my service I did a workshop on Learning Programmes at the school (an organization of standards that must be accomplished during the year as required by the province). I showed the teachers an example and then worked with them to begin their programmes. After, I told the teachers they were to complete it on their own, after all, it was a requirement of their job that they do these programmes. Instead, the teachers sat doing nothing for the rest of the workshop, and I found out later that they stopped teaching their classes for a week to work on them during school hours instead of completing the assignment before or after school. Though learning programmes are a new idea in the schools, they should have easily been completed in the course of two or three afternoons instead of paralyzing the school for a week and leaving the children without teachers. At that point, I was fed up and decided that would be the end of my regular trips to that particular school.

Now my other schools are particularly interested in the principles of fairness. They are concerned that at some point they will be blamed for trying to keep me for themselves instead of letting me help the third school. I keep attempting to reassure them that this will not be the case; that Leakhale is perfectly aware of how frustrated I am with them. Yet, this fact did not console my principals so they went to Leakhale to speak with the principal. I had told her that I was not coming to her school due to both my frustrations as well as the fact that I never had work to do there, that the teachers did not use me. The three principals talked about this and then the Leakhale principal made a list of things I could help the school with so I would come back. It read something like this: RNCS, IQMS, Assessments, etc. When I received this list my initial frustrations again surfaced since the specificity of the list was equal to if they had merely wrote "school development." Thus, I ignored it and continued at my other two schools.

This week I finally sat down with the principal of Leakhale and explained to her that I was willing to help the school but that I wasn’t going to spend a week at a time sitting on my ass, twiddling my thumbs, especially when I had so much to do at my other two schools. I explained to her that if she or the teachers wanted help with something they needed to be specific with their requests. For example, help with how to distribute school tasks and use school committees to help with management issues or a workshop on how to use group work effectively in a math lesson. I told her until she came up with such things I was going to continue working at the other two schools. She agreed (or maybe she didn’t but she didn’t confront me on the issue) and so, though I have been waiting to hear back from her, I haven’t.

What this all boils down to is something I often find myself proving to myself. The schools in my areas often want resources, they want "things," but they don’t want to have to do work for them, and often once they do receive them they sit unused on a shelf or in a cabinet. For example, Leakhale has science equipment and a ton of reading books that have never been used and sit in the office. Yet, it makes them feel that they have "something" simply by owning them. Likewise, if I go to their school, I become some sort of bizarre status symbol. I’m one more thing their school "has" even if they aren’t doing anything with me. The only problem with this scenario for them is that I’m past the point of allowing myself to be used in such ways. I’m not going to waste my time sitting around some school in the interest of "fairness" because they want the American around. Hell, if the only thing Leakhale learns from me is the need to implement resources then I’ve accomplished a lot more than I would have by actually being at the school.

Chicken Pox

2006-08-04T08:46:00.000+02:00

Mapula called me yesterday to let me know she has chicken pox and is coming home while she gets well. I told her that she should hug Oupa a lot while she is here.

Women and HIV

2006-08-04T08:45:00.000+02:00

I was reading an article in the June 5th Newsweek entitled "What Women Really Need" by Melinda Gates. Its main topic was the need to empower women in order to help curb the contraction of AIDS. Currently, there is no real way for women, particularly married women, to help themselves from contracting the virus: "80 percent of women newly infected with HIV are practicing monogamy within a marriage or a long-term relationship." "In many countries, sexual inequality compounds the hazard by making it difficult, if not impossible, for women to enforce their choices about whom they have sex with, or to insist that men wear condoms. But one of the deadliest problems is that women simply don’t have the tools to protect themselves." "For millions of married women, abstinence is unrealistic, being faithful insufficient and the use of condoms is not under their control."

The problem is evident- in the culture that I now live, women and girls frequently take the submissive role: they clean, they cook, they take care of the children- many of their husbands don’t work- in fact many of their husbands don’t do much of anything. A prime example of this situation is Portia. Portia is in grade 7. She comes to my house everyday to do the cleaning in order to make some extra money for her family. Her twin brother, Lucky, spends his afternoon playing soccer. No one questions this arrangement: why she works while he plays, just as women often don’t question whether or not they really want to be having sex with their partner- they do it to hold onto their boyfriends/husbands or because "everyone else is doing it."

Most women have never been taught that they have a say; can play a role in their sexual relations, because women are never taught about sex. Families don’t discuss it with their children, schools tell the facts of HIV but don’t empower children to have the self-confidence to stand up for themselves; to make choices regarding their own sexuality. The church only preaches abstinence which is not always realistic, specifically in a society where people are often older when they marry since they have to raise the money to pay "bride price" to the family of the woman whom they are marrying.

We need to focus on women to help solve the AIDS epidemic- give them the tools to protect their own health so they don’t have to worry about relying only on convincing their husbands to act or behave in specific ways (namely using condoms) when cultures can be prohibitive towards such ideas.

"Ten years ago, 1 percent of women in South Africa had contracted HIV; today the number is 25 percent. [] We need to develop prevention tools that can give women a chance to defend themselves."

Open House

2006-07-28T09:24:00.000+02:00

Today was Open House at Mandela Barloworld High School. I think the reason I have so much love for this particular school is because it gives me so much general hope for rural schools. After all, here is a school that raises funds and materials from outside organizations and succeeds in doing so. In addition, it has an overwhelmingly dedicated staff who really are invested in its progress and development, and what a difference it makes- you can see how bright and interested the students are in learning. The school’s vibe is simply comforting and inviting, and even though it still lacks much, it does what it can with what it has. For example, it may lack water but the school doesn’t allow that to prevent growing a garden- it simply grows a smaller one.

Perhaps what turns me on to the school is the open and welcoming conversations I find myself having with Ms. Modika- the principal- a woman I pegged as much younger than her reality due to the vibrant electricity she radiates. She becomes alive when talking about subjects that animate her. Unlike so many people I meet in the rural areas, she really seems to have inexhaustible energy that make even me, the now ultimate cynic, believe that her mission and dedication to the school will, in fact, revive the entire community.

So many of the subjects I often feel I have to tread carefully around with the majority of South Africans I encounter- I feel open and at ease to bring up with Ms. Modika. She openly discusses the problem of AIDS, and people’s unwillingness to accept the reality of the disease- that seemingly every third person is infected and how, even at funerals, there is no admittance to the cause of death. She cited an example- a former teacher whose daughter lead what she referred to as a "very fast life" and as a result contracted HIV, yet the father was unwilling to accept this. She talked about how he visited a multiplicity of witch doctors who siphoned away his money, and when he finally brought his daughter to the clinic, and she was officially diagnosed with HIV; he still would not accept it.

She is also much more prone towards empathy than everyone else I encounter, one of the first things she brought up during the day was how well I was coping- referring to her own 6 week stint in the U.S. as a part of training in her past- saying at one point she broke down into tears in her room because she was so homesick and desperately missed the sight of familiarity of things. It may have been the first time someone openly acknowledged that it was in fact okay for me to be unhappy at times and not love and accept everything around me in the village.
I also found myself in an intense discussion with her about teenage pregnancy in the village- due to no alternative activities, and young girls wishing desperately for a boyfriend to take care of them and buy them things. One of her dreams for the school was to transform it into a community center that would alleviate part of this problem.

We also discussed images that Africans have of Americans and vice versa. I complained how everyone thought I was rich and spent my free time partying with Michael Jackson. She said she had been shocked by reactions she had received when in America- elementary school children had asked her if she slept in trees and how she avoided lion attacks.

Though visiting the school was refreshing, my conversations with Ms. Modika were what I found as the most valuable part of my day from an educational view point. Of course, from a tourist standpoint I enjoyed our lunch with took place at the largest Baobab tree on the planet- 46.8meters in circumference and 6000 years old. Apparently, it has been featured on both "Ripley’s Believe it or not" and the cover of the "Wallstreet Journal." Also at the young age of 1000 years the inside begins to hollow naturally and in the inside a bar had been established- very quaint and amusing overall.

Westernization

2006-07-28T09:17:00.000+02:00

Khutso's and Baby playing with hose

"You can take my breath away…"
There are a group of children, very sadly emulating carolers, singing down the street completely out of tune and off beat. It seems, more than anything else, they are attempting to accomplish boisterousness- goal: not accuracy but instead loudness. I find it humorous that though some of these children think you can drive to South Africa from America and don’t understand North and South America are, in fact, separate locales- and though they can’t understand simple English questions- they are capable of directing a choral rendition of Enrique Iglesias….

China and South Africa- not quite a world apart

2006-07-28T09:16:00.000+02:00

I was just reading an article in June’s "National Geographic"- it was an interview of a fomer Peace Corp volunteer, Peter Hessler, who was in China during his service and remained after to become a writer. The article focuses on "what it means for millions of young people to uproot themselves from their rural villages in the hope of fulfilling their dreams in China’s booming cities."

Though China is a continent away, certain aspects of its development seemingly mirror the situation here in South Africa. I often find few people of my own age group residing in the village: "I think it’s both the lack of opportunity in the countryside and abundance of opportunity along these coastal areas," only here the coastal areas are equivalent to Jo’Burg and Pretoria.

As a result, the successes and failures of this younger generation are mirrored into the village- "sometimes prestige is gained through how many kids you have who are out working and how much money they’re sending." You can see this in a rush for the villagers to use the money to improve their situation and show off to the rest of the community: brick houses with ornate brick decorative details to display the fact they can afford such trivial gestures, tiled roofs, fancy entertainment centers, nice cars. People talk about the families with money- perhaps show them more respect- giving them higher spots of affluence among the village hierarchy.

It is also a matter of purchasing things as rapidly as possible: "it’s the age of wastefulness and profligacy and using resources quickly," You can see this in the litter that consumes the village in the desire to buy ridiculously expensive clothing as a status indicator- but still it’s hard to be critical. "These people didn’t have much for generations. I can understand that desire to improve your life, to live a more comfortable life."

So while we look at countries developing- China, South Africa, Mexico, Eastern Europe- we see this as prosperous and beneficial but we’re also seeing a rush to accumulate all that was missing in the past- a move that places great strain on the world and its resources. With the world’s superpowers already guilty of over consumption and developing countries beginning to fall easily into this pattern, we have to wonder what the repercussions of a more and more demanding society will be on the world. It could be our fatal Catch-22.

Biblionef

2006-07-28T09:11:00.000+02:00

Today we had a tea ceremony and Biblionef and the National Lottery donated two steel trunks of books- one to Letseku and one to Matshwi- of Sepedi books. I’m so excited to go through them next week and begin teaching the teachers to use them. It was also nice to be thanked by Michelle, the woman in charge, for the work I’ve done. I know I’m supposed to be selfless about the whole thing but it is nice to feel appreciated when so often I just feel like I’m nagging teachers.

Coffee Bay

2006-07-20T14:04:00.000+02:00

Coffee Bay

2006-07-20T13:59:00.000+02:00

East London

2006-07-20T13:56:00.000+02:00

East London

2006-07-20T13:45:00.000+02:00

East London

2006-07-20T13:31:00.000+02:00

Pictures from vacation in East London...highlighs include horseback riding in a game park (saw impala, springbok, ostriches, and wildebeasts), Heidi learning to surf, and being lazy at the backpackers and on the beach

Deputy Principal

2006-07-20T13:12:00.000+02:00

This week marked the beginning of the third term of the school year. It also marked the beginning of our new deputy principal starting at the school who is a white woman. I have found myself, through her first few days, experiencing de ja vu of my first days at site: being overwhelmed, wanting to be constantly busy but feeling at a loss for what to do, unsure of everyone’s expectations of me, feeling trepidation at the possibility of unknowingly stepping on other people’s toes, and trying desperately to find a rhythm to the day.
I have to give her credit, she is very nice and seems very dedicated to helping the school towards improvement. It will be interesting to watch her and the schools progression.