The most powerful weapon you can use to change the world

Disclaimer: the content of this website is mine alone and does not necessarily reflect the views of the U.S. government, the Peace Corps, or the South African Government.

Term two is off and running…sort of.  I decided to take a break from leading Zazi at the secondary school this term so that I could focus my efforts on the drop-in centre and the various programs I wished to help the caregivers to implement.  We worked together to develop a calendar which detailed our activities for each Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday for the term.  We had plans to divide the children according to age so that we could focus age-appropriate activities on the correct group, and because it is much easier to engage two groups of 25 children than it is to keep the attention of one group of 50-60.  It was all so well-planned - I even made up flipcharts with maps of the drop-in centre and a weekly calendar so everyone knew exactly where they should go on a given day.  I went to the centre the first day of the term energetic and so excited for the day, the week, the month, but things have a way of not quite going according to plan here.

 

The Explorers Club passport, oh the places they'll go...

I heard somewhere that it is advisable to write down all that you would like to accomplish in two months as a volunteer, then to make that your plan for the two years of your service, and as I began to work in the community that advice really resonated with me.  This is not due to a lack of community support; in my community I not only have a great amount of freedom to implement various programs, but I also enjoy the full support of project managers, school principals, traditional leadership, and many others.  For some reason things in South Africa just never seem to go as smoothly or as quickly as we westerners might hope.  This could be for any number of reasons: cultural differences, misunderstandings of expectations, miscommunications, and any number of other factors.  Plans failing to go smoothly may be an annoyance to some, but to a perfectionist with a touch of OCD this can be beyond frustrating. 

 

There were a few challenges that were beyond our control at the beginning of the term.  Prior to the end of term one the drop-in centre had been burglarized by someone who stole the food that would have been used to make meals for the children.  Once the food was gone many of the children stopped coming, as a nutritious meal is one of the main reasons for the children to come each day because many receive only their school meal and their drop-in centre meal each day.  It took us about one week to spread the word to the children that the food was back, at which point they began to return, but there went one week of planning.  Another challenge was getting everyone on the same page with separating the children according to age and determining who would lead each activity.  One day I was left alone in a room with 75 children and a laptop.  I decided to teach about two countries from the Explorers Club, but many of the children were completely lost as teaching in English does not begin until standard 3 (grade 3).

We now seem to be heading toward the same path, which is remarkable just two weeks into the term.  One unexpected blessing was that the caregivers asked me to facilitate the Zazi curriculum for them, which has enabled us to interact one morning each week for about two hours before the children arrive.  This has allowed us to enjoy open discussions and many laughs together, often followed by a chance to discuss our goals for the day or week with our programs.  We have even been able to practice with the SOUNS blocks, which promote literacy and can be used to teach both English and XiTsonga, and I have been able to begin teaching them about different countries and about the earth in general.  We are currently working together on what constitutes evidence-based interventions and how to document results so that they can be reported in a quantifiable way, and how such programming can be of great benefit when applying for funding through grants.

Despite the frustrations that have accompanied the start of our term two programming, I have to say that there are brief shining moments that really show the value of what we are working toward.  One such moment was the day that I brought books that had been donated and a bookshelf that I was able to purchase using fund from the Let Girls Learn grant that I was awarded in January to use for both Zazi and the Explorers Club.  The caregivers watched curiously as I tried to build the shelf (no easy task with the humidity that comes with living on top of the Tropic of Capricorn), and began loading it up with books.  The children arrived slowly that day, but as they arrived they were drawn to the books like little moths to a flame.  I thought they would grow bored quickly and want to go outside to play a game, but they did not.  They sat down on the floor in groups and began reading the books and looking at the pictures, stopping only when it was time to return the items to the shelves and line up for their meal.  Another highlight was when I suggested to the project manager, Masingita, that we appoint students to care for and monitor our library items.  She suggested Promise, one of the older girls who I already had in mind for the responsibility.  She readily agreed to assist us, and even suggested a counterpart from among the older boys.  I am hopeful that their leadership will encourage the children to take ownership of the books in such a way that they want to care for and preserve them for future use.

 

Our student librarian, Promise

By far my greatest moment of the term so far was when I was inside with one of my counterparts, Mavis, administering a pre-test for Grassroots Soccer, an evidence-based curriculum that uses soccer to teach children about HIV and TB, to the children ages 10 through 13.  We were having a pretty good time with the pre-test, they got a kick out of some of my XiTsonga pronunciations and we all had a good laugh at some of the English pronunciations.  There was one moment when I looked outside and saw one of the caregivers, Grace, who was leading the children ages 5-9.  Grace had taken the SOUNS blocks and had the children sitting in a circle around the blocks and was encouraging them to spell their names out with the blocks.  Watching the small children become so engaged in a learning activity and listening to their little giggles as they tried to spell things out with sounds the letters make was incredibly heart-warming.  I would be a fool to think that I will not experience more challenges this year, but I have very high hopes for the children and for the caregivers.  I doubt I will get to witness them fully tap into their intellectual potential in the few months I have remaining in my service, but what a privilege to be able to help plant the seeds that may enable them to grow into free thinkers and change-makers. 

She's got the whole world in her hands

A Walk on the Wild Side

Disclaimer: the content of this website is mine alone and does not necessarily reflect the views of the U.S. government, the Peace Corps, or the South African Government.

On the eastern borders of the provinces of Limpopo and Mpumalanga lies Kruger National Park.  This is one of the largest National Parks in South Africa, and is home to many species of bird, reptile, and mammal, including Africa’s Big 5.  The park covers over 7500 miles which, for those looking for a comparison in the United States, is more than double the size of Yellowstone National Park in Montana and Wyoming.  Because Human Rights Day, a day that commemorates the sacrifices made on the path to democracy in South Africa, fell on March 21 (the anniversary of the Sharpeville Massacre of 1960), I had a long weekend that enabled me to visit Kruger with three of my fellow volunteers.  We were driven through the park by a South African friend who has been going on game drives since childhood and was able to spot signs of nearby animals, helping us to see as many as possible on our drive.

We began our drive around 11am, entering the Phabeni Gate near Hazyview in Mpumalanga.  We drove slowly through the roads, keeping an eye out for animals, for about two hours.  After the early part of our drive we stopped in Skukuza, a small rest stop with lodging and dining options inside the park.  After a break to have lunch and rest a bit we embarked on an afternoon drive for another three hours.  We exited the park through the Numbi Gate and made our way back to Hazyview for a light dinner at Tanks Bush Pub near the backpackers where we were staying.

There are benefits and drawbacks to a safari based on the time of year in which you choose to go.  One of the greatest benefits of a game drive this time of year (the rainy season) is that the landscape is absolutely breath-taking.  Everything is green and lush, rivers are flowing, and there are baby animals all around.  While all of this is aesthetically pleasing, it can make spotting the animals very difficult.  We spotted two lions, but it was impossible to get pictures as they were sleeping in tall grass and only raised their heads long enough for us to know they were there (lions sleep about 20 hours per day).  Taking a safari during the dry season means that you will not experience the same foliage as during the rainy season, but it will be much easier to see the animals, especially because nature forces them to gather around limited water sources.

We were very fortunate on our drive that our expert guide was able to help us see three of Africa’s Big 5.  The Big 5, an old hunting term, includes lion, elephant, rhinoceros, buffalo, and leopard.  We were unable to see the elusive leopard or the rhino, although we were told that both were very nearby.  I have yet to see a rhino in the wild, which is absolutely crazy considering how big they are!  In addition to the Big 5 we saw giraffe, waterbuck, wildebeest, hippopotamus, cheetah, kudu, warthog, tortoise, and more impala than I ever cared to see in my life. The elephants were my absolute favorite, as I have been waiting to see an elephant since my arrival in Africa over a year ago, and it terrifies me just a little that I have yet to spot a crocodile because they hide so well (definitely not getting into the water here!).

Kasey, Sharsyea, Chris, and me at the Phabeni Gate

Visiting Kruger was a great experience, one I definitely plan to repeat before I leave South Africa.  When I looked at the prices of safaris before leaving the United States I thought that I would never be able to afford one, but there are very cost effective ways to visit Kruger and other safari destinations with proper research.  I highly recommend trying to have an experience like this at least once in your life…it is incomparable.

Surviving a Tropical Depression

Disclaimer: the content of this website is mine alone and does not necessarily reflect the views of the U.S. government, the Peace Corps, or the South African Government.

It has been a month of ups and downs for me.  The highs have been very high, and the lows have managed to get pretty low, even making me think that I was going through a tropical depression internally while a tropical depression raged just outside my door.  The one year mark of service has been cited as a low point for many volunteers, and that makes sense.  We watch as those in the cohort that arrived one year before us start to go back to the United States, which is both inspiring and disheartening for those of us remaining in country.  I look at all I have accomplished in the last year and am both amazed and proud, but then I see the mountain that is year two looming just ahead of me…and I feel too exhausted to continue some days.

When I moved to my current village I was placed with an organization that focuses on victim empowerment.  I worked with them for about three months before leaving to celebrate my Christmas holiday in the United States.  In that three months I established relationships with my co-workers and started planning projects that we would implement together upon my return.  When I returned from my holiday I learned that my co-workers were on what sounded like a strike, and as I write this they have yet to return.  The disappearance of my organization forced me to become a self-starter in order to manage the copious amount of free time I suddenly had. 

Before leaving for holiday my organization and I planned an afterschool program for girls at the secondary school in my village for term one (January-March).  Luckily, the school was more than happy to have me implement this intervention so I was able to continue, albeit without a counterpart.  It would have been nice to have a counterpart from my organization with me for Zazi, but despite the lack of an adult counterpart many of the girls in my program have emerged as leaders among the group.  I have high hopes for them, and will conclude their program by teaching them about giving back to their community.  It is my hope that these girls will step forward to act as my counterparts for future interventions both at their school, at the primary school nearby, and throughout the community.

The relationship that I established with the drop-in center through red rover and duck, duck, goose has been invaluable during this moment of uncertainty.  The caregivers learned about my Zazi program at the school and asked that I conduct a similar program with them so that they can learn about gender empowerment.  They have also asked for more programming at the drop-in center so I will work closely with them during term two to teach the children about different countries, Grassroots Soccer, and assist with homework and language skills.  I absolutely love going to the drop-in center, as they say that I am one of them and that I cannot leave next year.  Some have even offered to help me to concoct a plan to bring my niece over here, as they think she is the only reason I want to return home and that if she were here I would stay forever.

I also had the good fortune of a solid foundation with the Home Based Care in the community, which is in large part due to the great legacy left by previous Peace Corps Volunteers in the village next to mine.  The project manager has gone out of his way to help me to find things to do with his organization that allow me to use my technical skills, and also provide the intellectual stimulation I find so necessary for personal fulfilment. Currently we are working with the drop-in center on a grant application.  I love working with the project managers from both organizations because we really do have a team effort, and I get to combine the information that they are providing with my sales experience to try to “sell” the organization to the potential donor.  I love that I am learning and that I am privileged to watch them learn as well.

There have been many challenges since my return from holiday, and I would be lying if I said I never think about how quitting would be so much easier than staying.  One thing I have started doing to prevent myself from taking that easy out has been to schedule things far enough in advance that I can’t quit at the moment because I have a pending event.  Currently on the schedule is my GRE, which I will take on May 5.  Studying for the GRE has been a great way to use all of the free time afforded me in the past month, and I am hoping that this will mean a score stellar enough to apply to some very sought after graduate programs.  The best thing I have learned, and continue to learn each day, is just how resilient I am. 

When holding hands hurts

Disclaimer: the content of this website is mine alone and does not necessarily reflect the views of the U.S. government, the Peace Corps, or the South African Government.

About once per week I visit the drop-in centre that is connected with the organization with which I work in the village.  The drop-in centre is a place, funded by the Department of Social Development, where orphans and vulnerable children (OVCs) can go for help with homework, a meal, and fun and games after school.  The drop-in centre that I visit assists over 100 children, ages 5-18, and there are eight caregivers there to provide the care they need in the afternoons.

When I first started going to the drop-in centre last October I had no idea what to do with the children…keep in mind that most of them do not speak much (if any) English, and my xiTsonga is nowhere near conversational.  The only thing I could think to do was to teach them some of the games I used to play as a child in America.  Two games caught on big time: duck, duck, goose and red rover.  I know that we were pretty rough when I was a kid, but I don’t remember these games being quite the blood sport they are fast turning into here.

Let’s begin with duck, duck, goose, a sweet enough game.  In this game participants sit in a circle while the ducker goes around and gently taps the heads of those sitting, saying “duck” with each tap.  When the ducker identifies the person he wishes to chase him, he pats the person’s head and says “goose,” at which point the goose gets up and chases the ducker around the circle.  Should the ducker sit back in the goose’s spot before being tagged he is safe, if he is tagged he goes into the mush pot in the middle of the circle.  The game goes a little differently here.  The children have thrown out the word “goose” altogether and just play duck, duck, duck…ironic since I have yet to see a duck but have seen plenty of geese.  The ducker goes around the circle, slamming people on the head, saying “duck” with each hit.  When the person identifies the participant he wants to chase him he slams the head extra hard and yells “duck” extra loud, then runs away.  This has provided both entertainment and near heart attacks for me.

Now let’s talk about red rover.  I am sure you remember the game from childhood.  Participants are divided into two teams which face one another some distance apart.  The teammates hold hands and call out to the other team “red rover, red rover, send (person’s name) right over.”  At this point the person who has been called will run toward the team that has called him, selecting a pair of hands to attempt to break through by running into them.  If the runner breaks the hands he is free to return to his team and may take a participant from the team that has called him to join his team.  If the runner fails to break the hands he becomes a member of the team who has called him.  When teaching this game there were some things I didn’t realize I would have to explain, such as we are not trying to injure our friends with this game.  Within a week the kids had figured out that a great way to overcome your opponent was by throwing your entire body in front of him just before he reached the hands he would try to go through (body checking), or by raising your arms just before he reached your hands (clotheslining).  I quickly outlawed those two moves and emphasized the importance of just running through the hands.  Then the kids figured out that if they jump and karate kick the hands they will break more easily than if you just run through them.  Definitely terrifying each time we play, but the children just love it!

The drop-in centre is a great organization that provides social support to many of the children in the community, and I enjoy my visit there each week.  The games have been a great way to break the ice with the children and allow them to get to know me, but I definitely am hoping to do more with them.  This week I will begin a female empowerment program called Zazi with 8^th and 9^th grade girls at the secondary school.  I am hoping to identify leaders within that program that I might teach to research countries of the world so that we might start providing small geography lessons in xiTsonga one afternoon each week at the drop-in centre.  I am hoping that learning about other countries and cultures will inspire both curiosity and critical thinking in the children.  Fingers crossed that they don’t figure out a way to use world geography to do bodily harm to one another!

Watching the butterflies dance

Disclaimer: the content of this website is mine alone and does not necessarily reflect the views of the U.S. government, the Peace Corps, or the South African Government.

It has been a very busy couple of months.  I was able to go home for Christmas to see the most important new addition to our family, sweet baby Holland James.  I could not get enough of her.  It was also very nice to catch up with family and friends in the two short weeks that I was home, but of course there is never quite enough time to see everyone and to do everything one wants on such a trip.  If Facetime and Whatsapp had caused me to forget that I am on the other side of the world, the 20+ hour flight brought that reality screeching to the forefront of my brain.  Being so far away is a major challenge, but I have only 14 more months until I can be close to everyone again.

One of the most amazing things I returned to was a land that has been completely transformed.  When I first arrived in my village it was dry and brown, the cows were dying and the people were worried and frustrated.  In November we began to see rain here and there and things began to turn a bit green, but people kept telling me that it was not yet raining.  I thought they were crazy, but what did I know?  I lived in a dessert for years, so any rain seemed like a lot to me.

Apparently the rains came while I was gone.  The village is now green and lush, the cows are getting fatter, and people here have told me that while I was gone it rained almost every day.  My walk to work now requires a different path, as the dirt path I used to walk is now covered with grass and purple flowers.  As I walked throughout the village this morning I was struck by how many butterflies there are, dancing from flower to flower.   

A friend told me that now that the rains have come both the land and the people seem happier.  I thought about how wrapped up I can get in the problems that are directly in front of me, and how stressed and angry I can get when there is no end in sight, but the rains seem come at just the right time.  Hope springs eternal, and there is nothing better than watching the butterflies dance.

This Thanksgiving I am thankful for gogos!

Disclaimer: the content of this website is mine alone and does not necessarily reflect the views of the U.S. government, the Peace Corps, or the South African Government.

The backbone of society in South Africa seems to be one group of women: the gogos.  The gogos will make sure that you are eating enough, and will bring you food if they decide you are not (and watch you eat to make sure you finish it).  The gogos will protect you on taxis and in stores from men who make unwelcomed advances and from people who try to steal your groceries.  People in the villages in which I have lived have been on their best behavior around the gogos.  In fact the craziest I have seen a village get was over Easter weekend last year when the gogos all went away for a weekend long church service and the village let loose. When the gogos witness someone step out of line a quick “wena, umshaya” seems to restore order and good behavior.  Their position of respect is well deserved, these women are the hardest working, most industrious women I have ever had the pleasure of knowing.

When I was in training I lived with a Zulu gogo and her Xhosa husband.  They had three sons who were away working in Pretoria and Johannesburg so they cared for three teenage grandsons and one baby grandson.  Gogo was up at the crack of dawn each morning to sweep the yard.  You might think “no big deal, sweeping a yard,” but the brooms the gogos use to sweep the yards make my back hurt just looking at them.  Gogo was bent over at the waste using a stiff, handheld broom each morning to slowly sweep debris from the yard.  After sweeping, gogo would feed the baby and make certain that everyone else had been taken care of for breakfast and bathing before leaving for school.  Once everyone had gone gogo would head to a small room on the side of the house where she would spend the day sewing and mending items brought to her from people around the village, for a small fee.  In the afternoon, when the sun was at its most unbearable, gogo would rest in the shade for a bit before spending several hours preparing dinner for nine people.  Did I mention that she did all of this with a baby strapped to her back?  Once dinner was prepared we would sit down together and watch the soapies while we ate.  Gogo would end her day later than most of us, only to begin before us again the next morning.

Currently I live with my Tsonga gogo, or kokwana.  Kokwana is like the energizer bunny.  She is up at four each morning, spending about an hour doing housework and yard work and talking to friends who are up as early as her.  Shortly after five kokwana will leave for the day to head out to the bush to chop wood.  I usually see her coming back to the house between five and six in the evening, an enormous pile of wood on top of her head (she sells her wood to the neighbors for a small fee).  She then goes about tending to her trees and garden until about nine in the evening. 

The gogos amaze me.  Women half their age hardly come close to having a comparable energy level.  I speak very little Zulu or XiTsonga, so communication has been a challenge with my gogos, but their kindness and generosity have been evident without words.  My absolute favorite thing that both of them have done is chanting “number one” and high fiving me when I manage to sputter out something slightly coherent about where I am going or where I have been.  I am not sure where they picked up “number one,” but I love it!  I am continually impressed that these women have worked so hard their entire lives and show no signs of slowing.  They definitely deserve the respect they receive in South Africa, and I am so glad to have had the opportunity to know such amazing women.

I choose to be the rain...

Disclaimer: the content of this website is mine alone and does not necessarily reflect the views of the U.S. government, the Peace Corps, or the South African Government.

This afternoon I watched as a thunderstorm rolled in.  The wind rustling through the bushes, the lightning crashing far off, the low rumble of thunder, and the anticipation of and hope for rain to come with it to quench the insatiable thirst of this drought-ravaged land.  As I watched the storm come closer I thought about how this wonder of nature has the power both to destroy and to give life.  The high winds and crashes of lightning on a dry land could easily spark and create a catastrophic fire which could consume everything in its wake.  On the other hand, the rain could fall and fill the dry riverbeds, bringing back the grass that has too long been gone to feed the animals that have too long gone hungry.  I am like the storm.  I can allow hate to spark a fire in my heart, eventually consuming all that was once good within me and destroying everything I come in contact with.  Or I can choose to love, and be the rain that the world needs so badly. 

Darkness can’t drive out darkness; only light can do that.  Hate can’t drive out hate; only love can do that. (Martin Luther King Jr.)

Hate is the easy choice.  Love requires a daily choice to relinquish my pride, to suffer fools, to repay cruelty with kindness, to look for the best in others, to count to 10 before reacting, to take the high road when insults are being hurled my way, and to keep hope alive when all seems lost.  This requires a conscious decision every moment of every day to find the positive points in a negative world, to fight every instinct I have when I feel that I have been wronged in some way (and let me tell you, that redhead temper is no easy thing to control!).  To choose to love in a world filled with hate means that I will be ridiculed, I will be hurt, I will be lonely, and that my heart will be broken over and over again. 

I alone cannot change the world, but I can cast a stone across the waters to create many ripples. (Mother Teresa)

Right now many things in the world look bleak.  So many people are in despair; and with good reason.  My heart breaks for all of the hurt and anguish I see in front of me, both at home and abroad.  I wish there were a secret answer or a magic formula to cure all of the issues in the world, but unfortunately I can only control the small part I play.  I choose to be the rain; I choose to love, because I can’t be more kindling for the fire that hate has ignited.