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I have almost completed my first month in my new village and am learning the challenge of being still.  I was warned during training that there would be much down time during my first three months at site, but I think that during the last several years of working two jobs and going to school I have forgotten how to relax.  I feel like there is something I should be doing, but then I realize that I am completing my tasks, there just aren’t as many of them here.  It is both refreshing and disconcerting to have so much free time available to me.  My host family, my organization, and many of the community members have been very welcoming to me.  When I first arrived they told me that they were going to make me fat before I leave (a sign that a guest has been well taken care of is weight gain).  Luckily my host mom has helped me to counteract this attempt by finding me awesome running partners.

Monday through Thursday mornings I accompany the caregivers from my organization as they visit members of the community.  During these visits the caregivers promote health by discussing the importance of diet and exercise, as well as the importance of visiting the clinic to test for HIV and hypertension.  The caregivers do an amazing job of building rapport with community members, as well as offering realistic diet and exercise options that can be easily incorporated in this community.  Even though I only understand part of the conversations, it is obvious that the caregivers are well received.  Each morning on my walk to work I pass a crèche (preschool), where the children run out to stare at me and wave as I walk by.  It is difficult to be in a bad mood when this is one of my first interactions each day. 

The local primary school has been very welcoming, even allowing me to attend a third grade class on Fridays to help my language learning.  The children stared and laughed at me quite a bit at first, but they seem to be getting used to me.  This past week I got everyone’s attention when I accidentally set off a keychain alarm on my purse and couldn’t turn it off.  I don’t know whether the children thought I did that on purpose, but they seemed to be quite amused at the incident and surrounded me immediately after to tell me all about themselves.

My host mother encouraged me to attend a funeral a couple of weeks ago with our neighbors.  She wanted me to be able to tell Americans what funerals are like in South Africa.  Funerals here take place over two days, Friday night and Saturday morning.  On Friday night attendees gather under a large tent and sing and share testimonies, this is comparable to the viewing we attend in America.  Instead of hiring catering to feed those in attendance on Saturday (as we would in the States), a cow is slaughtered on Friday and many of the women of the community stay up most of the night cooking the meal that will follow Saturday’s service.  The body of the deceased is brought to the home where the service is being held on Friday evening and remains there until the burial on Saturday morning, which reminded me of an Irish wake.  On Saturday morning we gathered again to follow the body to the cemetery, where a small service was conducted to show respect to the deceased and the family, after which those in attendance returned to the family home for a meal and to visit with one another.  When I returned home I was able to tell her about all of the similarities I saw between South African and American funerals.  It is so interesting that we can choose to see the differences between ourselves and others, or we can find things we have in common.

As part of my community needs assessment I had the privilege of hearing about the history of the community in which I serve from the son of the first induna (head man) of my village.  I could have listened to him all day!  The area in which I live was one of the homelands established during apartheid (around 1948).  My reading on the homelands reminded me a great deal of the establishment of the reservations in the United States for the Native Americans in the 1800’s.  My historian informed me that there was an amazing sense of community when the village was first established, but that maintaining that sense of community has become a challenge as the village has grown.  After he told me the story of the village I asked him who he would most like me to work with over the next two years, and what he would most like me to do.  His answer was simple: the youth are the future of this village.