Happy Chinese New Year, Uncle Ike!!!

I heard that you fell down and went boom on your bottom this winter. What a bummer! Sorry for the pun. I couldn't resist.

As you know, I'm living in Taiwan. I thought I'd take you to the market with me to do a little food shopping.

This has got to be one heck of a humbling way to go. "Hey Duck, you better shut up or I'll cut you in half and put your head where your heart is and stick your neck up your ass!" I guess he made one last wise quack. HA HA HA HA HA! I really quack myself up!

This is your brain. This is your brain in a deep fat fryer.

Eel! Eel! Get your eel here!

FYI, the other bucket is full of frogs with a net over them so they won't jump out.

There's nothin' like fresh fish.

Shrimp, squid, octopus... you want it, we got it!

The lady behind me is mourning the loss of her pet chicken. It was time to kill "Clucky."

There's no discriminating when it comes to slaughtering.

Or would you rather be hung this way?

They even have all the parts of the pig available. How would you like to have your skin folded neatly and stacked?

If the whole leg is too much for you help yourself to just the feet.

Pig ears aren't just for the dog anymore. They're deeeeee-lishhhhhhh-iiiiiiiii-ousssssss!

Squid? Whole fish? Carp steaks? Frogs?

I hope you enjoyed your trip to the market. Bet you can't wait to come visit Asia. I hope you are back on your feet soon!Love,Darcy

I spent a day hiking with a local hiking group. We woke early in the morning and traveled 3 hours northeast of Taipei and hiked an historical trail what was one of the most beautiful and ass-kicking hikes I've ever done. It took over 4 hours to hike and there was a wonderful sense of accomplishment waiting at the end. We had some good laughs along the way especially when it just never seemed to end and we were faced with the choice to laugh or, well, not laugh. The people in the hiking group wear bright orange as their "team uniform." They were so happy to have us join them for the day. And I must say that I was quite humbled by the women in their 60's who seemed to be in better shape than I am. The hike didn't leave me without some very sore hip-flexors and butt cheeks for a couple days. I'm already looking forward to the next adventure.

The hike is over. Hard to believe we were up on those peaks in the far far distance. Valarie is from Canada and Erika is from Taiwan and one of my roommates. What an AWESOME DAY!!!

I'm running an English/American club a couple times a month at my school. First thing on my agenda was an oral presentation on an assigned state. This was the first time any of them had even stood in front of a group and talked. They have a lot to learn but I give them an A+ for trying and working as a group. All these pictures are posted and made available for my students to have access to them.

Presentation Day

Last minute preparations

My grade 12 girls asked to have their picture taken with me. It was fun to be with them outside of the classroom for once. I also joined them for a PE class later on that week. It felt good to put on my sneakers and get out on the basketball court. I hope to join them for another class some day.

I made a face for this picture it was just a little late, after the picture was taken.

The first day at my school they told me I had to wear a skirt everyday. Had I been able to secure a job at another school I would have. But seeing it was in the middle of the school year the options were very slim. So I sucked it up, bought some more skirts, and decided to "play ball" no matter how stupid I thought the rule was. Since then, the rules have continued to flow my way: no sitting in my classroom, no drinking water during class, don't walk and eat at the same time and only closed toed shoes. I haven't broken any rules lately so the list stops there for now. The rules for the students are even more strict.

Now I know I look nice in my school clothes but it's the "have to" and "everyday" parts that seem to make it suck the most. The "sucking runner-up" is walking around with the crotch of my tights half way down my thighs and since I can't fit my orthotics into any of my school shoes my feet have been killing me. With a special thanks to my good friend, Lesley, who took me shopping for big girl bras before I left I have great looking boobs here in Taiwan.

So for all of you who have been wondering what I'm wearing everyday to school... here it is.

This was my first cold, lonely, echoey, institutional, kitchenless apartment with a florescent light outside my window that made it daylight 24/7. I'm so happy to have this place behind me.

The shower head is right on the wall. Not a problem until you forget to hide your toilet paper away.

Just the top of a temple. I never saw the actual temple but after seeing the roof I sure would like to.

There was some sort of celebration going on the week I arrived. Food was offered to the Gods and the ancestors then taken home by people who attended.

It took days to set up and just one night to consume.

The display had moving, human sized parts. It was beautiful to watch with traditional chinese music playing in the background.

This character was walking around collecting money. I think it was to help buy all the food for the event.

This is the night market shopping area near my home. If you like shoes and your feel are an 8.5 or smaller, this is the place for you. But if you are a clothing size bigger than a size 8 just shoot yourself in the foot now and stay home.

Typical mode of transportation. Note that there are 4 people on this scooter.

When someone dies these are put out in front of the home to show that there is a death in the family. What it says I don't know. Give me another 5 years of Chinese lessons.

This is a fire place for burning (fake) money to make sure the ancestors have abundance in heaven and to show your respect .

This is my city taken from the mountain behind my home.

This beautiful Buddah is 86ft tall and resides beside a most magnificent temple on top of the mountain right behind my apartment building. It overlooks the city and is visited by people from all over Taiwan (and it's right in my backyard). There are many Buddahs inside the temple with different spiritual gifts and strengths for different purposes. For example there is a Buddah for farming, health, abundance, spirituality, fertility, strength etc. It's a very peaceful place to visit.

My friend, David, and I were walking by this train station. As a little spontaneous "field trip" he took me in to check out the only train parking lot in the country of Taiwan. We were really lucky because just as we got there they were preparing to park a train and they don't do this every day. This is for you, Dad.

New beginnings are a melting pot of emotions. I grappled my way out of homesickness absolutely as fast as I could. I'm glad those days are behind me. Making new friends has been touch and go because I still have no phone, transportation, interest in going out to drink at smokey bars and I'm the only foreigner at my school. Little things like buying a small carpet for my room make me feel more at home and loneliness has been replaced with boredom which seems much easier to remedy. Because I arrived at the end of the school semester my school felt it was best to start fresh after the Chinese New Year and winter holiday. But don't worry, I signed my contract weeks ago and am being paid for all this time at home. Another reason these sometimes endless days have been easier to swallow. So what does a person do with few friends, no phone or transportation, complete illiteracy, an inability to communicate with anyone and no obligations? The answer is simple... absolutely anything I can. Walking to the post office to buy stamps may very well have been the highlight outing of my day. Cooking a yummy breakfast made me feel at home and that was good for at least a couple hours of contentment. But as time has moved on each day has brought with it a few good finds; new places, new people, new things to do, new foods, new markets. The day I found peanut butter was like a flash of hope that I would find happiness here. For $2.15/load I can drop my laundry off and come back later to a bag of washed, dried and folded clothes. The guy there smiles and simply points to the clock for when I can pick it up. The woman at the grocery store knows I like to put my food in my backpack,not a plastic bag and the people at the sushi place know I don't like the dried, shredded beef stuff in my rolls. I found a great Indian restaurant just a 20 min walk from my home. They know I like it mild. I found mint tea in the import isle at another store and the girls at the internet cafe know I like water instead of tea for my complimentary beverage. I found an awesome stationary store when out for a walk the other night. It has everything and I can't wait to go back when I actually need to buy something. I can get fresh squeezed orange juice for $1 from the fruit stand on the corner and if I get up early enough to hit the morning market I can get a real taste of local flavor. A few days ago a girl in her late 20s came up to me on the street and asked if I could help her prepare for a civil service exam which is in English. I told her I'd be happy to help her if she would help me with my Chinese. It was a deal. We meet this Monday. I joined the gym and it's walking distance from my apartment. Score! I'm still in search of a bookstore with a good English selection. I'm flying through my books. And for those of you who know that I have the attention span of a goldfish, I seem to have found some focus here too.

It's human nature to fear our own suffering and to be deeply effected by the suffering of others. There are ethics and laws involved with humans which eliminate our legal ability to end suffering when there is no chance of recovery. We are forced to sit and wait it out. So in the mean time we can peruse the five stages of mourning, justify, reason, process and do our best to understand why what is is and do our best to prepare for the end. It's painful, sad and as onlookers, we feel completely helpless to make anything better. But when it comes to animals the rules are different.

Today, I came out of my apartment building, which sits on a narrow alleyway, and saw a cat laying in the road. At first I thought it was sunning itself but as it lifted it's head and failed to get it's front paws under itself I realized it was terribly hurt. In fact, as I got closer, I could see that it's back had been broken by some sort of accident. I felt nauseous. Devistated. I had to look away. Another cat was circling near by. His friend was dying and he could do nothing about it. I looked around to consider my options. A car drove by and straddled it. A couple scooters swerved around it and an older woman stepped off to the side and I could see her purposefully not look down as she walked by. Now I know the psychology behind mulitple bystanders and I don't play that game anymore. I needed to do something. But what? It was still alive, breathing. I brought the security guy from my building out to see it and he just gestured "a toss to the side," turned around and walked away. Garbage is dealt with very differently here. There are no dumpsters around or outdoor trashcans. And besides, it was still alive. A small sewage river runs along the road but throwing it in didn't seem right either. My roommate and I decided that a plastic bag was a good place to start. I went back up to my apartment to find something to put the cat in and thankfully, by the time I got back, it had died. So now I have this cat in a bag and don't know what to do with it. There is no recycling bin for dead cats. People sort through all the trash for unrecycled material. That would be a cruel surprise for anyone. Compost? Nope. Big body of water? Not even close. I know, I could burn it. But the only place to burn stuff here is for ghost money being offered up to the ancestors. Not for dead cats. So I took a walk to the mountain and hiked up far enough to get away from others. I stood on the edge of a small cliff and dedicated a moment to this cat that no one seemed willing to help. I couldn't litter in the woods so I untied the bag, grabbed the bottom, said a small prayer, closed my eyes and gave it the ol' 1-2-3. I felt bad that I couldn't comfort the cat and tell it the catbulance was on it's way. It surely didn't understand what was going on. And when it did take it's last breaths, it was alone. I know, most of you are saying to yourself, "Darcy, it's just a cat." I know it's just a cat but it was suffering. And suffering is something I have little capacity to deal with. If I was in the states it wouldn't have been any different, I'm sure. What do you do with a dead cat in the middle of a city? Needless to say my day got off to a rough start. Then on my way to the gym I passed a little old man walking a dog. I crouched down to the dog and it came up to me. It was super cute and the old man spoke a bit of English. We had a nice little chat and I got some good lovin' from the dog. All's well that ends well.

I've been in the country for 10 days now and what a long strange trip it's been so far. My first day in the country was about finding a place to live. My recruiter, David, and I checked out a few places available and we settled on something that was close to my school but still a 45 min walk away. It was basically a dorm room with a bathroom, bed, fridge and TV. Thank God for the TV for it was my saving grace over the next four days. We went out and bought a few necessities then I was on my own until the next day when David would pick me up to go meet my new school. I didn't sleep well at all. I was awake at 3:00am and would battle the same schedule for the following few nights. The fluorescent light right outside my only window made it feel like daylight all night long. Eventually I taped my Thermarest sleeping pad and an African sarong over the window to win that battle but it only dented my sleeping issues.

After meeting my "go to teacher," Irene, at the school I signed my contract and we secured my start date for the following Monday which turned out to be a painfully long week away. On my way out she reminded to wear a knee-length skirt to accommodate the dress code. I was frozen in my tracks. A dress code? I brought 17 pairs of pant with me. Eleven of them being nice, professional looking slacks to go with my new dress tops and big girl bras. I tossed in a few skirts just in case but certainly not enough for everyday. Nor would I ever consider a job that required that. So I set Irene out to negotiate the dress code for me with the principal. David was in on the negotiations too. In Taiwan there is no wiggle room for a tradition such as that. So I decided to have David look for another job for me. Did I really think I would be happy in a place like that?

Over the next few days I was completely paralysed by my current situation. I was living in a white box, sleeping on a mattress barely softer than the floor, watching TV that was 80% Chinese, limited to where I could get to on foot, completely alone with no phone, no computer and trying desperately to find food that tasted even remotely close to home in my escalated state of hunger, stress, loneliness, fatigue and homesickness. Not to mention I couldn't, still can't, and never will be able to read anything. Illiteracy is very humbling. And when no one around you speaks any English everything you want, need and do requires 10 times the effort and awkwardness. Then, after five days of what felt like the worst days of my life (yes, even worse than adjusting in South Africa) the universe smiled upon me. Just when I was ready to throw the towel in (give up, quit, surrender) I got an email for another foreigner living in the area. He got my address from someone who got it from someone who got it from someone at David's office. Some how he thought I was a "dude" and said he was looking for a roommate. Dude or not, we called Tom and went to meet him. I moved in the next day. The bad news was that there were no other teaching jobs available at daytime schools, only "cram schools" which are English school after regular school and the owners treat their foreign teachers like slaves. And since I'm a certified teacher I can teach at regular schools and enjoy the benefits of paid holidays and vacations. So David convinced me to reconsider the first job and he even took me skirt shopping. No joke. He even told me what colors looked good on me and helped me to decide what style worked for me. I went into this last weekend still with a lot of anxiety about starting school but Tom let me hang with him and he introduced me to some other foreigners (that's what they call us English teachers from away) and English speaking locals. One guy took me on a hike my first morning at the apartment. He lives on the first floor.

Since I moved things have been much better. I cleaned the bachelor pad kitchen so I could start to cook my own food. I have found stores with food I recognize and I'm gaining strategies to get what I need when I can't read labels. I bought a new mattress for my room. I paid extra for a soft one. I still have no phone, computer, TV or transportation but that will be changing over the next weeks. School is a total trip and worthy of a post all on it's own. I'm slowly meeting people and many of the teachers at school have befriended me and are making me feel at home and guiding me through some of the cultural things I don't know. I won't start teaching until after the winter break so no news on that yet. I'm glad I'm here and am looking forward to what is on the horizon. It's so true that what doesn't kill you makes your stronger and I'm getting stronger every day.

My plane arrived on time after 26 hours of traveling. Like all airports, the signs were designed for international travelers with English translations. I stood at the baggage claim for over 30 min waiting for my bags to emerge from the magic suitcase hole in the floor. With nearly everyone gone I stated to create a plan B in my head. The problem was I had no phone, no internet and I forgot to write down my recruiter's number before I left. I made sure everyone else had it, but not me. Surprisingly, I felt panic free. Maybe I have learned to control only what I can and accept the rest as it comes. As they say in SA, "I'll make a plan." My bags must have been in the last cargo box off that 747 because they came up nearly together in the last stretch of luggage to be unloaded. As I walked away the lights turned off behind me and the carousel powered down. I followed the petering crowd through customs and out to the lobby where I scanned all the name signs being held by men in suits and uniforms. There I was, "Miss Darcy" on a piece of recycled pink paper taped to a small stand. A young man in his late 20's with spiked hair and wearing tight jeans and a pea coat waved me over to follow him. He took off and left in running to catch up. I needed to get money form an ATM before I left the airport or I couldn't pay for anything. He handed me a phone and on the other end was David, my recruiter. He was a welcomed voice speaking English to me. I sighed. One person in the world knew where I was. The young man kept walking way ahead of me and out the doors to a chaotic sidewalk of taxis, horns, luggage and shoulder to shoulder people. He came back and pulled me through the crowd to a van that apparently had been waiting for me. Another woman and I boarded the van while my bags were thrown in the back. Before I knew it we were swerving through traffic and the young man was not with us. We navigated our way out of Taipei and drove for almost an hour. The driver eventually pulled off the highway and made a U-turn under an overpass. I thought he had made a wrong turn until he pulled up next to a car with it's trunk open and a gentleman leaning against the outside. The van door opened and he waved me out to get into the car. I then realized they were a tag-team taxi service because they had the same symbols embroidered on the backs of their shirts. They insisted on transferring my bags for me. It was, after all, their job. I paid the 1st driver 600 NT ($20) and got into the back of the other car alone. It was a nice car with complimentary water provided in the center console. The driver changed the radio station to an English station and I listened to a remake of "The Girl from Ipanema." I appreciated the gesture. He dropped me off at a little hotel on a busy street corner. It was after midnight by this point. The receptionist didn't speak any English. She showed me how much I owed with 6 fingers, another 600 NT. I was handed a room key and a TV remote and she pointed to the tiny elevator. The room was small and tidy. Everything was old and tattered but felt clean. There wasn't a wrinkle on the bed and it was by far the firmest mattress I've ever slept on. If this is the Taiwanese style of sleeping I'm in for an ergonomic awakening. There was no clock in the room and I was worried I wouldn't wake up on time to meet David, my recruiter. I thought "wake-up call?" Then immediately decided I wasn't in the mood to charade that out with the receptionist. I turned my cell phone on to use the clock, low battery. Would you believe I'm on the other side of the earth and they use the same plug we do? I now had a clock and an alarm for the night. And after a couple minutes my phone automatically switched to the local time. Thanks US Cellular. I slept through the night. Most of it anyway. I woke up to the person in the room next to me brushing their teeth. Paper walls maybe? Bathing felt so good followed by clean clothes. Now for some food. I walked down the five flights of stairs to the lobby and out onto what felt like another planet. There were people everywhere going in every direction on foot, scooter, bus, taxi and bicycle. I couldn't read a single sign anywhere. I crossed the street to a 7 Eleven. I felt as though I had entered a Hello Kitty food mart. Much of the packaging and signage was pink and brightly decorated. I perused around the store trying to find something that looked familiar. I bought a pre-packaged sandwich and a sushi wrap. I recognized the bread and nori part of the wrap but what was inside would be a surprise. I bought a cup of coffee from an outside stand. The young girl spoke a few words of English. Well, she knew the words for milk, sugar and coffee. It was a terrible tasting cup of coffee. I sat down at a table literally on the busy corner outside my hotel and ate my breakfast surprise. I looked around at the people going here and there. Many of them wearing face masks in an effort to combat the poor air quality. Their clothes are the same as mine. Their bags are the same as mine. They are all on their way to someplace else. I couldn't help but wonder what their names are. What is their story? What brings them joy? Who speaks English? Are they originally from mainland China? Do they work in a factory? This is my new life. So exciting and unknown. I have so much to learn. My coffee started tasting better.

I left for South Africa with two huge duffels of donated socks and underwear as well as a sizable sum of money in the bank to spend on the children once I got there. We chose 31 needy children and purchased for them new school shoes and matching uniform socks. We chose a day to call in the guardians to collect the shoes and later distributed the socks and underwear to the volunteers who work at Aletuke and the children who attend.

We labeled all the shoe boxes with the child's name and inserted their matching uniform socks.

They marked their list and checked it twice.

All the socks and underwear were laid out on a table by size and gender.

The guardians arrived to collect the shoes and we sent them home with socks and underwear for themselves too.

The volunteers who work at the center also got sent home with socks, underwear and a washing cloth for themselves and their own children.

These are the faces of the beautiful children who each received a pair of socks, underwear, washcloth and two pens or pencils for school. Their names were written down to make sure that every child gets what they need. Once all the Aletuke children were provided for house visits were made to other vulnerable families until the supplies were gone. Over 300 children and about 150 adults received donated items.

Thanks to all of you who donated to my project. You made a lot of kids smile.

These are some of my older kids. They were just practicing a drama they created on alcohol and abuse. They will be performing it later at a competition. I'm so proud of them.

After 5 months of being back in the United States I'm returning to South Africa to visit for a while. I'm looking forward to seeing Mama, my friends, my organization and the wonderful people in my village. I've been blessed with the opportunity to speak publicly about my Peace Corps adventures and raised over $1000 to provide for the children that are served at Aletuke, the drop-in center I worked with. I'm returning with 99 lbs of donated items which includes 451 pairs of socks, 387 pairs of underwear, 237 washcloths, 10 packs of Crayola markers, 10 packs of Crayola pencils, 15 glue sticks, 200 pencils, 150 pens and a pack of dry-erase markers. My carry-on is stuffed full too leaving me with only a few shirts and a pair of shorts for myself. South Africa here I come.

Kristen and I spent 4 days touring (with a group tour) the sand dunes of Namibia as well as a few other sights.  It was a lot of bumpy riding but well worth it.  Our first morning out we got up to see the sun rise over the red sand dunes of the desert.   So beautiful.

We hiked up "dune 45" to start the day.  It was really difficult compounded with how out of shape I am.

After enjoying the view from the top we headed down for breakfast.  The down part was the most fun.

We spent 2 nights at this beautiful campsite way out in the middle of the desert.  We ate very well and slept comfortably in big tents and on thick foam mats.  Our guides were awesome and we even had our own private chef.

One of my favorite shots on the trip.  These ladies were just hanging out on the side of the road.  I took this from the truck.

I took advantage of the opportunity to go quad biking through the dunes.  It was so much fun.  I would love to go out there again but with no rules attached.  

We made out way out to a huge dune they keep track-free just for sand boarding.  Just a piece of tag board and a little turtle wax and off you go.  It was walking back up that was the pain in the ass.

This is a dried up river bed we walked along.  Super cool.  You could see all kinds of fossils of fish, shells and other wildlife from when the water once flowed.

Rock stacking is not just for Wonderland anymore.  I left my mark in Namibia.

This is our tour group.  We were with a couple from Italy, a couple from Canada and a woman from Australia.  They were a great bunch to travel with.  Lots of laughs and good conversation.

Yup... I was there!

Nothing like a perfect Namibian desert sunset to end out last night there.  

This is a dog I walked past every time I went to the taxi, 2 to 3 times a week.  For the longest time my heart just sunk not knowing what I could do for it seeing its not my dog.  I found out about the SPCA in my shopping town and I went and reported it.  They retrieved the dog that day and had him put down.  The dog was covered with huge tics, his toenails were grown so long he could barely stand, his face was deformed from infection, he had bloody pee dripping from his penis and who knows when his last food or water was.  Every time I walk past that house I feel a lightness of peace that he is no longer suffering. 

In September I had other PCVs come to my house for an overnight cookout.  It's always good to spend time with your own peeps.  Benedikt,in the middle, is from Norway and now lives in my village doing sports programming from another organization.

Peace Corps is a great place to be a pyro because you get to burn all sorts of shit and no once cares.

Meet Mpho.  She is the replacement for the boy dog (nameless his entire life) who died of rat poisoning.  Mama wanted a boy and didn't believe me when I told her I was holding a girl at the puppy house.  So she has a girl.  I named her Mpho, after Dad's South African name.

On her 3rd day with us she met the girl dog (now named Sesi, for sister).  Sesi was very gentle with her.

She was completely infested with fleas and lice.  So much so they were sucking the life out of her.  So in to the bucket she went.  And 4 more times over the next week.

Now she is a happy, pudgy little 4 month old.  She is the love of my life right now.  It's going to be so hard to leave her.

Sesi and Mpho brighten my day.  My heart smiles when I see them like this.  

These little girls, like most kids I come in contact with,  are so taken by me.  They have never been this close to a white person.  I grow shadows everywhere I go.  It's really endearing.

This is Mama singing thanks and dancing to the Lord for her growing garden.

These boys come to the house almost everyday and help around the house.  She feeds them and has them bathe in the outdoor tub before going home and gives them a little money on payday.  Meet Funky and Thabang.  I share all my treats from home with them.  They love the gummi worms.

One of the volunteers I worked with at Aletuke passed away this year.  We held a special service for her at the church. 

I printed off some photos and made this plaque for the service.  When I was typing up the dates it kind of hit me hard that she was born exactly 2 months after me and died the day after my birthday.   She left two children and a sick husband behind.

This is just my current profile picture on facebook.  Sooooooooo damn cute they are!  

This guy woke me up trying to impress these young ladies.  Same gender, different species.

I grilled an entire meal for me and Mama in a wheelbarrow.    

This picture says it all.  The only thing missing is the grape Fanta I drank with it.

I went to a 1st birthday party for my co-worker's son on my birthday.  I offered to make the cake for the party.  You would have thought I showed up with a brand new car.  The excitement was all worth it.  

Mama gave me these pants for my birthday.  She was so happy to see me in them.    

The kitchen ladies love the baking lessons.  Today's menu, banana bread.

Note to self, don't cross the boarder on a Saturday.  It took over 3 hours for this line to move.  What they bring back over the boarder is beyond me.

Lets take a moment to give thanks for all that we have.

I have never seen kids work so hard.  You should see all the little girls carrying 20liter jugs of water on their heads.

Just a beautiful moment while drive into the great beyond.  Little did we know we would get lost in the dark and end up staying at a shady rondoval on the beach.

They may not have much but what they do have is neat and tidy.  Can you imagine living in a house made entirely of grass?

Another day in paradise...

There's always room for one more.

The roads were awful.  Good thing I knew how to change a tire.  I'd never done it before though so this was my first attempt.  Successful!

No thanks, I don't want to buy any hot sauce but would you like an oatmeal raisin cookie?

Two, two, two flats in one day.  This was Kristen's first tire change.  She learned by watching me just 2 hours earlier.  How many spares come in a car?  Right... ONE!  Thank God for the local guy who fixed our first tire for free (and some oatmeal raisin cookies).

Such colorful materials they use for skirts and bags.  This was the market in Tofo, the beach town we went to.

It's a long day of sitting and selling the same stuff as the person beside you.  

Kristen's "shit sack."  She put everything in it and could find nothing.  But she loves it.

Horse back on the wide open beaches?  My first time on a horse.  I even learned to trot.

What a great way to spend our afternoon.  Brownie and I got along just fine.

We also went through a small village.

Maintaining their homes is constant work.

We opted to stay in our car most of the time because if you pulled over into the little markets you got swarmed with people selling their wares.

They are so desperate to sell their stuff.  It's really quite sad to watch.  

Then there are the cashew trees.  They grow, roast and sell them.  Expensive but good.

Lots of pottery being made.  Some are fired in the ground...

... and some in kilns.

There is no limit to what you can pack on a single truck.  As with people, there is always room for one more.

The markets have a beauty about them despite the disgusting surroundings.

Kristen is the PCV who lives closest to me. She came over and we enjoyed some beer, home made pizza, Saturday Night Live (at 9:00pm) and then s'mores on the coal stove. It was a much needed break from our everyday lives and helped fill our tanks, mentally and emotionally, for the week to come.

The more time I spend here the more experiences I have that connect me to the culture. I see things that make me sad and want more for the people here. But I also get to experience what makes these people so beautiful.

Mma Gogo came to pull the dried maize (corn) off the cobs we harvested from our maize field. Be bagged it up and sent it to town on a donkey cart and got four big bags of milie meal to make bahobe (staple porridge) with. Between my Sepedi and Mma Gogo's English, we had a really fun time together. She loved teaching me the technique of shaving off the corn. It's not as easy as you think and it's hard on the hands. I have so much respect for the old women of this culture.

I know I look stupid but the winter mornings are very very cold and when you don't have all your winter clothes you make due with what you have.

This was so much fun. They taught me the rhythm to beat on the drum then they all started singing and dancing. The energy in that circle was amazing and the kids got a kick out of watching me drum.

Tracksuits are the school uniforms that children wear during the cold winter months. Many of our children don't have them and are very cold when at school. So I wrote a letter of request (with the guidance of another PCV, for I'm learning as I go) and sent it to 30 different funding organizations in South Africa. It only takes one to respond with a "Yes" and that's what we got. With a huge thanks to the Pick N Pay Foundation (Pick N Pay is a major grocery store chain in SA) we were able to purchase tracksuits for 40 of our children. We held a small event and invited the children and their guardians. Nico, below, was the worker who took on this project. He said it felt so good to hand the children their new suits. He has already talked to me about taking on another project. It's the empowerment that the workers gain from these kinds of experiences that will keep Aletuke moving forward after I leave.

Each guardian signed for their child's tracksuit.

These boys are so happy to have a brand new tracksuit. Frans, the tall boy in the middle, is in the 11th grade and a wonderful role model for the others at Aletuke. He stood up and gave a wonderful speech of thanks to Aletuke for all that they do for him and the other children. It was extremely heart warming.

This photo needs no explanation.

In late May I went to speak to the Mayor of my municipality to see if he could help me with a project I'm doing.  He was very interested in what we are doing in our village and came to see our center a couple weeks later.  He said that he is really glad to start a relationship with our organization and fully supports the work we do.  This month he showed up with a group of people from the municipality and a representative from the local mine who was the donor of the 150 blankets they had delivered that day for our children.  We made a small event out of it and distributed blankets to the children who were there that day.  We continue our door to door search for orphans and vulnerable children and are so happy to hand them a warm blanket for these cold winter months.  

Niko is one if two male volunteers.  He is helping to stack the 150 donated blankets.

This is the Mayor, his people and a rep from the donating company.  

This was a moment of singing and celebration for what we were receiving.  These women are all volunteers at Aletuke.

The Mayor is the man on the right in black.  He's a really great guy.

David, Aletuke's project manager and my supervisor, is like a pig in shit.  It's moments like these that he lives for.  This is what his work is all about... providing for the children of his community

Nothing warms your heart more than seeing the smiles on these children's faces.

I love my job...

   

I saw a sign in the window of Specsavers, an eye glasses place in my shopping town.  It said "Free eye screening for all children 12 and under."  I went in to speak to them an we made arrangements for them to come to Aletuke and screen our kids and others in the village.  We ended up screening 87 children that day.  We will be taking 6 or 8 children to town for a full examination and if they need glasses they will be free too.  We caught a few eye problems that will need surgery at the hospital and many children with eye infections that will be treated at the clinic with drops.  It was a hugely successful day and another connection was made that will continue to help Aletuke provide better care for the children in the future.  Below are some pictures from that day and outside the children were playing on the playground while waiting to be tested.  I couldn't resist some of the cute faces.

These children are waiting in line to be screened.

Pauline is a volunteer at Aletuke that helped out with the eye screening.

Rose is another volunteer who helped out.

Who's the geek with the dorky glasses?

I love watching the kids be kids at Aletuke.

Simply precious...

This is Mma Mahowa with 5 or her 8 children.  These little ones all got screened on this day.  Mma Mahowa is becoming quite famous on my blog for she is the one holding  "slide condom off penis" in the condom demonstration and she was one of the recipients of the food parcels.  She is a dedicated volunteer who is at Aletuke every day.

  

I taught the ladies who work in the kitchen how to make pancakes and follow a recipe.  They had so much fun that morning.  Especially when they sat down with a stack of hot cakes to eat with their morning tea.  We discovered that they are cheaper to make than buying bread and yummier too.  Another score for Aletuke.

I went in to work this morning and they were busy flipping jacks for all the children today.  HOW COOL!

It was so cute to see them take turns pouring and flipping.

A spatula is not a common household utensil in this culture.  I brought mine to work this day.  I actually had to teach them how to use it to get under and flip without landing on the other pancakes.  They were fast learners.

I think the smile on her face says it all.

Another "proud mother" moment.  God, I love these women!

Next week we're learning how to make banana bread and brownies.  These ladies are so dedicated to the children and love to share their new cooking skills with them.   (from left to right) Mma Digashu, Mma Kekana and Mma Mabusela have certainly found their way into my heart.

A group of students from a near by high school did a food and clothing drive for Aletuke.  They delivered their donations and put on a wonderful event for us with readings, poetry, and my favorite, singing and dancing.

We then placed the clothes into outfits and distributed them to all the children.  It was so awesome to see the kids trying on all their "new clothes."

Thanks to the Somesville Union Meeting House Mom and Dad were able to hand-deliver a suitcase full of panties and socks for the children.  We also distributed them that day.  Oh happy day!!!

This little girl belongs in a pair of Cinderella panties.

There was lots of laughing, silliness and celebrating going on.

Socks, socks and more socks!

Me and Mary J (supervisor) joining in the fun.

On Tuesday, July 3oth Aletuke proudly distributed food parcels to 30 very needy families throughout my village of Moshate.  The staff of home-based care workers and the people targeting the “vulnerable” children in our community signed up families they felt were the most needy.  Thanks to the Empty Bowls project run by Kathleen Slack at Mount Desert Island High School we were able to put together parcels with a variety of staple foods and some soap for washing clothes and their bodies to encourage and maintain good hygiene.  The gift of money translated to R3000 (Rand).  We did an additional food drive for food items and money and raised another R700.  Two young women who have been volunteering at the center volunteered to take on this whole project.  They learned so much along the way and I was so proud of their efforts and dedication to the project.  The most beautiful part of the whole project was watching these two girls send families away with a bundle of food that they made happen.  When you live in an environment where food is often used as currency it was extremely humbling to talk to the different people who came to receive their parcel and find out what their story is at home.  Here are pictures of some of the people who benefitted from this project.  I would like to thank Kathleen Slack and the students of MDIHS who participated in this fundraiser and who chose my organization as the recipient of their hard work and this years Empty Bowls project.  Peace to you all. Sara, left, and Precious, right, are the two young women who took this project by the horns and turned it into a great success.  I had a lot of fun getting to know them too.

Sugar, anyone?

This is what each family received.  Our bigger families of 7 or more got additional items like an extra bottle of oil, more salt and tin fish.

David is my supervisor and Aletuke project manager.  He was so please with the success of the project and that more and more people got to see what Aletuke is doing our community.

Sara enjoyed packing up our first customers of the day.  We used the church next to our center as the pick-up point.

Precious kept track of all the families and had each family sign for their parcel.

Myday is one of our orphans at our center.  She lives with her older sister, three younger brothers and her sister's three children and no one in the house is working.

This woman was so thankful and appreciative for the food.  With most of her teeth gone she had to work not to smile for the picture because I was making her laugh.

These are two very typical "youth" in our community.  They are no longer in school, unemployed and the girl on the right is pregnant.  They are probably living with very large families too.

This is a child-headed household taking care of her younger brothers and sisters.

This woman lives with her husband and they make traditional beer at their home and sell it.  She said that they don't sell much because they don't have the loud music to play like the bottle stores do.  She was most excited about the soap because now she could wash her clothes like the people around her do.

This man didn't talk much but he said "danky" (thank you in Africaans) over and over and over.

This young girl took my heart that day.  She is 22 and lives completely alone.  Her brother and mother died last year and she doesn't know where her other brother is.  Her home is not secure putting her safety at risk.  She has no work so she has a "boy friend" who gives her money at times.  Her eyes opened big and wide when we gave her the food.  She couldn't believe it was all for her.  

These two women care for a household of grandchildren left behind by their children who have died (most likely of AIDS)  They almost fell to the ground when I started speaking to them in Sepedi and they laughed and laughed with me as I showed them the pictures I took of them.

I didn't talk to these two boys but they loved having their picture taken and thanked me for doing it.

This is Mma Mohowa.  She is one of the dedicated volunteers at my center.  She has eight children of her own and neither she or her husband are working.  It was nice to be able to help out one of our own at the center.

When Mom and Dad came in March I had been in a low place for a while, struggling with work and having no close friends.  After returning home from the airport to send them back to the states I had a rough couple of days getting back into the swing of the quiet and solitude of my life here.  The half-way point of my service came during their visit and landmarks like that always lend themselves to evaluation of the past, present and future.  What have I accomplished so far?  Am I happy with that?  What am I working on now?  Is there anything sustainable?  What do I want to do before I leave?  What kind of impact am I truly making here?  It took a few tears and a lot of serious self-reflection to realize that I needed to change my attitude and outlook on my work.  Better yet, I had to fully embrace the serenity prayer if I was going to survive another year here.  There are so many problems bigger than me but heartbreaking and frustrating none-the-less.  I wrote down some personal goals to focus on and went back to work with a fresh mind and that felt really good.  In the past 6 weeks the workers of Aletuke have been making great strides in their organizational development and contribution to the community.  Most of my energy is in developing a solid management team that functions in a way that can support further programming.  They are learning how to use and maintain a calendar and schedule so they can get more done.  Priorities and time management are constantly addressed and roles and responsibilities are talked about and enforced everyday.  I’m teaching a weekly health lesson and facilitation workshop to all the carers/workers and that’s going really well.  I’m working with one of the supervisors to start a Youth Empowerment Program right now that I think is going to be a great success.  Youth, in South Africa, refers to people ages 19-34.  We are going to provide them with skills and information to make better choices for themselves.  It will be an opportunity once a week for them to gather, learn, have fun and socialize in a healthy environment.  I’m teaching the carers/workers how to present health topics in a fun and interactive way so the children stay interested.  They are learning how to ask questions, check for understanding and maintain a positive learning environment, none of which are qualities present in village classrooms today.  The biggest reward is when they come back from a school visit with their eyes wide and a smile on their face all excited about how fun it was and involved the learners were in the lesson.  For me, I give them huge credit for their job well done and I go home at the end of the day feeling “mission accomplished.”  With my increased involvement with the workers I’m getting to know them better and receiving a little more social satisfaction at work which is helping to support me more emotionally. But it’s not all cake and ice cream (which I would give my right arm for right now).  I’ve been struggling with the tribal authority to get a building site for my project.  I got fed up with the corruption and lies and went to see the mayor of my municipality.  By the end of our meeting he said that he wanted to be a part of my project and help make it happen with me.  Next week he will be coming to visit my center and we’ll have another meeting to talk about what’s next.  I continue to battle the language barrier that often leaves me “alone” even when in a group of people.  So to be proactive I often choose to leave groups and gatherings before I get frustrated and sad.  Yesterday on my way to the taxi rank in my village to go to town there was a dog lying on the side of the road out in front of it’s home (I assume).  I thought it was dead until I got close.  It was emaciated and when it looked up at me it had tons of thick green snot stuff coming from it’s nose and eyes.  I had to fight the tears.  It’s stuff like that that pushes my emotional capacity all the time.  Another day it could be watching an old Gogo (granny) washing laundry by hand with a little one tied to her back.  I just want to go over and help her.   Women work so hard here.  I see women mistreated all the time and young girls being pursued by boys who don’t back off when the girl clearly isn’t interested.  I love being here but my heart takes a beating everyday with the things I see that feel so wrong and I feel so helpless to.  So I have to celebrate my small successes everyday and give the little kids who pass by my house a bit of my time to greet me and give me hugs.  They are so cute and their future is so grim and they don’t even know it yet.  What does one do with that?  So, again, I just ask for the serenity to accept the things I cannot change; 
courage to change the things I can;
and the wisdom to know the difference.

In May we had a conference in Pretoria.  Those are the times we refuel and spend time with our friends.

This is my good friend, Jesse.  He lives 6 hours away so we only get to see each other at Peace Corps events.  Unfortunately this is our last conference until our close of service conference.

Therese is another friend I've made.  She taught me a lot about writing letters to get funds for my organization.

This is most of my Peace Corps group.  We are SA17, the 17th group of PCVs to be in South Africa.  This was taken at our last training in May.

While in Pretoria I went to my first Rugby game.  I spent most of the game not knowing what was going on but there was a beautiful sunset on the opposite side of the stadium and the chips (french fries) were pretty good too.

A group of us went out dancing.  What a fun time.  I sure do miss the no-smoking-in-public places law.  

I facilitated a lesson on condom use and how to do demonstrations.  The workers had a fun time learning and gained a lot from the lesson and activity.  They were full of great questions which tells me what the people out in the community are in need of knowing.  These young men and women are so dedicated to their work and have an insatiable appetite for good information.  We started off with a Q and A activity covering condom facts and breaking myths (which there are many) then moved on to the steps of putting on a condom.  When you only have one wooden model penis, all your bananas are over-ripe and you only have half a cucumber in the fridge one must rely on free resources.  They all got a kick out of this one. 

The workers each had a step in the process of appropriate condom use.  They had to put themselves in the correct order.

Then we posted them  on the wall and put them into action.

Do you know the steps of appropriate condom use?  Let us teach you...

Step 1.  Talk about condom use with your partner.  

Step 2.  Check the expiration date and make sure the package is not damaged.

Step 3.  Carefully open the wrapper.  Don't use scissors or your teeth.

Step 4.  Set the rolled condom on the head of the penis.  Make sure the tip of the condom is facing up.

Step 5.  Leave a half-inch space at the tip of the condom for semen collection.

Step 6.  Pinch the air out of the condom's tip with one hand.  With the other hand roll the condom all the way down the shaft of the penis.

Step 7.  Have protected intercourse. 

Step 8.  After ejaculation pull out before the penis gets soft.  Hold on to the base of the condom so it doesn't slip off when pulling out.

Step 9.  Slide the condom off the penis.  (Not only does this photo say it all, but it's my favorite picture of the day.)

Step 10.  Appropriately dispose of condom. (This was taken at a community clean-up campaign I was a part of.)

I almost peed my pants when I saw this sign outside of an apartment complex.

My parents came for a three-week visit and we had a great time.  Our itinerary consisted of a variety of activities that included lots of sight seeing, museums and the full spectrum of South African culture.  We spent time in Pretoria with family of friends living in a middle-class neighborhood,  toured the biggest township in South Africa with people living in squatter camps all the way to upper class homes, spent time at the Apartheid Museum, visited Robben Island in Cape Town and learned about the prison system during Mendela’s time, tasted wines all over the beautiful winelands, got a taste of shoestring traveling and staying at backpackers (hostels) all over the country, saw big game at Kruger National park, got to meet and visit with lots of other Peace Corps volunteers at a gathering, and lastly, they got a good taste of village life and busy month-end shopping.  I realized how much I have become part of the black culture here when I found myself preparing my parents for their time in my village and helping them to understand better the things they were seeing and experiencing all around them.  Life is certainly not standing still while I’m gone which is always weighing on me here.  Friends and family are having babies, moving, changing careers and continuing on their own journeys.  It was a bit of a shock to see both of my parents get off the plane using walking canes.  They did well to keep up with everything I had planned for them as they hit the ground running the day they arrived.  After twelve days of traveling on our own we arrived in my village to stay for a full week.  With only a couple major events planned during that time they really got a taste of “village life.”  Dad enjoyed in-depth conversations with many of the locals regarding politics, for the national elections are happening on April 22nd, and other issues of concern in this country.  Mom, on the other hand, was attached to her camera most of the time trying to catch anything she could that was “villagey” like women carrying babies on their backs and balancing bundles on their heads or a passing donkey cart.  My Mama (host Mom) was a gracious host and spent lots of time with us when she wasn’t busy doing her routine (cleaning) work.  Mom and Dad were very good sports for they were the center of attention on many occasions.  They were asked to speak at the church services they attended and the celebration that Aletuke, my organization, put on to welcome them.  The locals were stopping by regularly to greet them and everyone was tickled to death to hear Mom and Dad greet them in their mother tongue.  I was really impressed with their willingness to use their new words whenever they could.  Mom, as usual, was happy to try most of the food that was prepared at mealtime but, sadly, neither of them were able to embrace the staple porridge and eating with their hands. April 3rd marked the halfway point of my service here.  Now that Mom and Dad have returned home it’s time for me to really collect myself and set my priorities in motion.  I have so much to do and so little time to do it.  I have a big building project that I am undertaking but the logistics continue to be an uphill battle.  Corruption at the tribal authority level is slowing me down but I’m not going to let it squash my vision for Aletuke.  So I’m taking a deep breath, gathering my patience and finding success in baby steps.  Socially, I need to make some deeper connections with some of the people I work with, not only for my success at work but for my own mental and emotional well-being.  We all know that close friends play a very important role in our lives.  I have not really established any intimate relationships with people, other than my Mama, and I know that if I want to be fully successful in this next year I need to have that in my life. Now it’s time to get to the good stuff… pictures, pictures and more pictures.  Enjoy!  I love and miss you all and always love to hear from you.I hope this find everyone happy and healthy and enjoying the new signs of spring that are so well earned after this winter of endless snow.  Peace to you all,Darcy   

On the Cape of Good Hope in Cape Town baboons roam freely in search of food or anything they can get their hands on.  This guy was just hanging out on the roof of a taxi car in the parking lot.  

That's quite a congregation Dad is preaching to.  If only I could hear what he's saying.

The views from Cape Point are stunning.

We toured Robben Island and learned about the prison system during Mandela's time there.  It was really interesting and is such a poignant time in South Africa's history.  You can see Table Mountain and Cape Town in the background.  

We took the cable car up to the top of Table Mountain.  The ride was awesome, the views of the city and Cape Point were unbelievable and the wind was whipping the whole time.  We enjoyed a cup of coffee at the top to warm up after walking around for a bit.

There was a maze of walkways all along the table top making all views easily accessible. 

"Im  on top of the world!"

Probably one of the more powerful parts of this trip for Mom and Dad was seeing the squatter camps.  It's hard to believe people live like this.  These camps line the sides of the highway outside of Johannesburg.  And right across the street is middle-class living.  What a contrast separated by only a few yards.

We visited the Sudwala caves, the oldest known caves in the world at 200,000 thousand years old.  Mom and Dad definitely get the good sport awards for this day... canes and all.

We spent our last day in Cape Town on a winelands tour.  We visited six different vineyards and tasted lots of wine.  This was our favorite, cheese platter and all.

Kruger National Park was a day well spent.  We saw lots of animals from lizards crossing the road to packs of elephants in woods.  This zebra moment just made me laugh.  Heads or tails?  

During our all-day trek back to my village ending the whirl-whin tour of South Africa we stopped to enjoy the magic of Long Tom pass.

Mom and Dad were greeted with celebrity status.  Everyone was so happy to meet them.  This was a moment long awaited by the Aletuke staff, children, guardians and community.  Mom is greeted by Mma Mabusela, one of the Aletuke kitchen staff.

In this culture children with greet adults by putting their hands together and then the adult embraces their hands.  This is one of my favorite pictures from their visit.  What a special moment.

The workers and children decorated the inside of the church with a welcome sign and a head table where we sat during the celebration.

When the time came for everyone to show their appreciation they did it in the way they know best... shaking their booty.

A group of young boys showed their stuff during a traditional dance.  Sadly, this is something that is fading as the culture moves toward the first world.

These girl showed their true colors to with singing, dancing and drumming.  They were so beautiful to watch in all their beautiful dresses.

Again, me and Mama.  I just love seeing her in traditional dress.  

What a proud moment for Mary J, one of the supervisors at Aletuke, to have her picture taken with Mom.  

After the program was over and everyone had eaten the party continued outside with more singing, dancing and drumming.  Boy, can these girls shake what their Mama's gave them.

This is a great picture of Mom, Dad, Mama and Leah.  Leah is my next door neighbor, one of Mama's best friends, a good friend of mine and on the board of Aletuke.  This is also a proud moment for Mama and Leah to pose with Mokgaetji's parents.

Mama was so proud to sport her new Obama shirt and Mandela apron.

Every good party needs a good cooking staff.  Mama called in the local big shots to create a wonderful spread of food for the day.  

A group of girls came to perform some traditional dancing.  They were really good.  Mom and Dad really enjoyed the entertainment.

Mom had tried desperately all week to catch a good photo of a donkey cart.  Well, this day she got more than she had bargained for.  The ultimate upgrade.

My first host family was so pleased to meet Mom and Dad.  We arrived to a wonderful traditional meal and had a great visit with them.  

Dear Mr. Obama, Opportunity, freedom, equality, support, good health and education are things I celebrate everyday.  Most of them occur in my life simply because I’m an American.  Living in black, rural South Africa made me see that. And for that I am grateful.  On January 20, 2009 at 7:00pm my time, I watched you swear in as the 44th president of the United States.  A massive wave of pride swept over me that night. I felt so proud to be an American.  That is a feeling I have never had.  In the eyes of generations all over the world you are an idol.  An absolute hero.  You have the toughest job in the world right now.  Thank you for being a leader we can be proud of.  If there is one thing I have learned from my time in the Peace Corps it is that one must have patience and find success in everyday; to have faith in the flow, and patience in faith.  I hope our country can find patience before judgement. My Dad is your biggest fan.  He and my Mom came to visit me here in South Africa from Mt Desert Island, Maine.  They presented my host Mom with an Obama t-shirt.  The pride on her face when wearing your shirt was heart-warming.  It went perfectly with the Mandela apron I had given her made by a community sewing project created by a fellow PCV. You are a common thread of hope throughout the world.  This picture speaks volumes of the connection that people now have because of you.  I hold my head up high.  As an American, I played my part correctly. I read your inaugural speech as a source of inspiration.  It applies not only to people globally but to me personally.  Thank you, Mr. Obama, for moving us forward with values of humanity and compassion.    Proudly,Darcy Stillman Peace Corps South Africa                

I spent my first Christmas away from home hiking 85km of South Africa's treasured coasline. We spent four nights and five days hiking through Xhosa country, also known as the Wild Coast. We hired a local guy to guide us on the hike. Albert was totally awesome, knowledgable and fun to be with. He was generous with information about his culture and stories of his childhood. Also joining me were Jared, a friend and PCV and Malee, our guide's girlfriend from Germany. We covered a huge variety of terrain including river crossings, kilometers of beaches, rolling hills, goat trails, grazing fields, villages, jungle, swamps, cliff edges and peaks. It was a difficult hike with steep ups and downs and even soaked to the bone by the rain and battling illness due to giardia I was happy to be present in every moment. We stayed with local families along the way. They cooked for us and provided us with clean bedding and hot food. We slept in rondavels which are the typical building structure of the Xhosa people. Probably the most powerful part of my whole experience was realizing how far "off the grid" these people live with no electricity, running water, no money, no mail, no phone or TV and very little education. And as wonderful of an experience as it was to swoop in, experience their lives for 5 days and leave, I have to remember that as I sit her writing about it, back with my comforts of the modern world, they are still there working all day to meet their basic needs for survival. They have no concept of the world outside of what they can access on foot or, for an adult in the family, a very rare trip to town that is a day away. "Humbling" is the only word that comes to mind to even begin describing my experience.

We met this man and his sons fishing on one of our beach crossings. We bought their two biggest fish. They were so excited to sell it and we were so happy to have fresh fish for dinner that night. It was to die for. The best part was that even though it was our last day of hiking it was the first day I felt like eating. I was in heaven.

Just a taste of the beautiful coastline. I sometimes felt like I was on the scene of a movie.

These guys were so happy to have their picture taken. These are the baskets they to put their harvest in and transport it. Hard to believe people still work like this.

These girls came to our rondavel and asked if they could dance for us for money or sweets. They were awesome. The little one was so cute and right on beat. We gave them both money and sweets. Push play below for a little taste of our show.

This is Malee, Albert's girlfriend from Germany. I really enjoyed getting to know her on the trip.

We spent our first night here at a four rondavel home. The family lived in two of them, they cooked in one and we slept in one. I'd been landlocked for so long it was nice to hear the ocean in bed.

If I were a cow I'd hang out here too. Cows come down to the beaches because there are fewer ticks.

So this is the gang. We hung out on this beach for a while. From left to right: Jared (PCV), Malee, Albert, Darcy

These kids were having so much fun in the water. As soon as we called them over for a picture they came running with all their heart.

Who needs a bathing suit?

Ahhh, so beautiful!

This rondavel was totally pimped out with lanoleum on the floor. Most of them are just packed cow poop, very clean and cozy.

This was one of the river crossings we took. Kim, on the far right, is Jared's wife. She only joined us for the first day.

We took a snack break and shared the shade and hillside with these great cows. The backgroud was simply perfect.

This is a typical looking village that we would walk through on the hike.

This is Moshate, my village. I live about one inch to the right of my left shoulder and I work about one inch to the left of my right shoulder. I absolutely love living here.

I took two of my workers to a community college to participate in a health fair.  I'm working on educating my staff on health issues that effect the people here.  Through education I'm building knowledge, self-esteem and empowerment.  They did a great job passing information on to the public.  I'm so proud of them.

I can't pull the Pedi look off like my Mom, but I'll try anything once.  I wore this to an event at my organization.  Everyone absolutely loved it.

This is my mom, Mariam Lamola.  She is an amazing woman in so many ways.  She takes wonderful care of me and teaches me so much.   

October arrived fast and furious.  Winter is now behind us and the heat is weighing heavily on me.  It sucks my energy and makes me want to do nothing outside of the shade.  I am, however, very thankful for the breeze that provides a little relief most of the time.  The rain finally returned, very late this year, so our gutter bucket is back in action collecting water for bathing and washing clothes.  We have a little outside building with a bathtub in it that never became a bathroom and instead has been used to store yard tools, scraps of crap and other shit my Mom didn’t want to throw away.  I can’t blame her because I have found uses for much of the crap scraps and other shit to fix things around the house.  Earlier this week I gave her nonfunctioning gutter a facelift with some wire, a few rusty oversized nails, a borrowed ladder and my priceless Gerber (way better than a Leatherman.  Thank you Darin)  Now it’s working beautifully.  I cleaned out the bathroom/junk area and prepared it for a sunshower that should be arriving from the states in a couple of weeks.  My Mom and I are so excited to be able to rinse down and cool off at the end of a hot sticky day.  We had to cut down one of our mango trees because it just up and died on us.  It’s been sitting out in the yard for weeks and I was wondering what she had planned for it.  Out of not wanting to deal with it she probably would have given it to someone to burn.  I spent this morning cutting the entire tree into pieces of wood that will fit in our coal stove next winter (July-August).  It feels really good to be productive around the house.  My Mom is always cleaning, cleaning, cleaning.  I keep the kitchen clean on a daily basis and I scrub the bathroom once a week but my Mom just never stops.  She is on her hands and knees all the time wiping down, scrubbing, polishing or buffing something.  That kind of house work just isn’t my cup of tea.  So when I can do things like patch cracks in the tub with caulking and an old bicycle tube, take her washer apart and fix the leaking pieces or replace and wire a light fixture in the bathroom that has fallen apart over the years (all with my Gerber of coarse) I feel like I am doing my part.  My Mom is always amazed and so thankful when I fix something or improve it.  Her brain just doesn’t work that way I guess.  Her gutters had been out of commission for years, the outside bathroom was built four years ago and was never used and she was ready to buy a whole new tub for the inside bathroom (which she couldn’t afford) because the cracks were getting so bad.  I love being resourceful and working with what I have around me to repair what isn’t working.  It’s kind of fun, actually.  My brother, Danny, always told me to leave a place better than you found it.  Whether it was picking up a piece of trash or fixing a loose board on someone’s front doorstep.  He is famous for being the visitor who asks for a screwdriver because he noticed the door knob was loose on his way in. So I have adopted, happily, this way of thinking and acting.  If you can fix it, fit it and make someone smile.            

This is one of the schools I visited. They put on a big AIDS assembly on my behalf. It was really neat. Can you find the white girl in the crowd?

This is an event we had with all the guardians and kids when we gave out new school uniforms. The kids really enjoy the art supplies that so many of you have donated. Art program, here we come.

Typical Sunday afternoon laundry session with my Mma. Tumi is my Mama's 2 1/2 year old grandaughter who stays with us on the weekends. She is so cute and fun to watch grow and develop language, both English and Sepedi.

I’ve been in South Africa for nine months now. The house I live in is quite modern by local standards. My Mom is a teacher, paid by the government, which allows her a reasonably comfortable life. We have a nice television with Satellite reception, refrigerator, electric range with oven, indoor plumbing with hot water and a flush toilet. We also have a borehole, or a shallow well, which provides us with a back-up water source for when the street pipes run dry. As of today, the street has been dry for over a month. Gutter collectors have been empty since before winter (June) and we haven’t seen rain since April. In the mean time the municipality trucks in water to community holding tanks for people to fetch what they need. Our borehole water is very salty so we must fetch only our drinking water. For that I am grateful.

I sit in my living room on matching furniture and wonder if I could, would I choose to live more remote, without appliances or electricity, my computer or cell phone? What if I lived in a place where I couldn’t count on their English and I had to rely only on my Sepedi? Would I have it in me to live further out of my comfort zone?

There are things here that I have no problem living without. And the longer I’m here the easier and more normal it becomes. I haven’t used a napkin, paper towel, zip-lock bag or aluminum foil since I’ve been here. I can count the meals I’ve used a fork to eat with. There isn’t a butter knife in the house (the back of a spoon works great) and a drawer organizer is the furthest thing from our kitchen. You have to pay for plastic bags at the grocery store so my Mom showed me how to fold and tie one up in a tiny bundle and always have one in my bag. I’m glad for that about once a week. Pens and pencils are hard to come by so I’m much better about keeping my pens until they are out of ink. I keep food boxes to make homemade postcards and projects for work, pieces of string and wire, wash out food jars and recycle the nice paper bags that sugar and flour come in. At the point in which a typical American would toss a dishcloth into the trash, we use it until it almost falls apart and then it continues to live out the rest of its life as a cleaning rag. Old panty hose are used for buffing floors and shoes. I watch my coworkers blow their nose on their child’s outgrown infant t-shirt. We save the oil from cooking. We re-use the vinegar used to boil salt off the kettle heating coil. We collect rain from the gutters for bathing, washing clothes and cooking. I will use the plastic wrap from my lettuce to wrap a leftover. I use the toilet paper bag for my trashcan. And even then I dump it out and use it again. You know the wax molded at the bottom of the candle holder? There’s a use for that too. If you look inside my Mom’s pillow there’s years of outgrown, ripped and recycled clothing. It’s a little lumpy for my taste but it’s the one she chooses to sleep with every night. I use the communal cup at the drum of drinking water. I pee in a bucket in my room at night. It’s pit toilets everywhere you go so don’t forget to keep toilet paper on you at all times.

The list goes on and on with the everyday little things that are truly everyday and little things. They were adjustments to begin with but living so simply has it’s own rewards. I wonder to what degree I will fall from this way of living when I return home.

In contrast to the life style I’ve embraced there are parts of my life here that have pushed me to my limits and beyond, frustrated me, brought me to tears and forced me to dig deep for strength I wasn’t sure was there. As a young, independent woman who’s made every decision for herself up to this point in time, living in an extremely patriarchal culture has proven very difficult. The hardest part for me is that the women who live in these rural communities, rich with tradition, accept the absence of choice and independence in their lives. To them, there is no absence, it just is. They know no other way. Boys and girls are separated in their chores, where they sit in church, stand at morning assembly before school and their roles in the home from a very young age. Simply the act of paying labola, a bride price, puts a woman in a position of being property and the man, owner. When I talk to people here and point out what I see their answer is always, “that’s the way it’s always been.” Then my response is usually, “yes, but it doesn’t mean it’s right.”

Because of these definitive roles whenever I’m at a celebration of some kind I find myself doing dishes, serving tea, cooking, cleaning and spending my time with the women doing what they do best, serve. I have to bite my tongue a lot and wonder if these women, who have never lived a day not servicing “their man,” long in their hearts for the choices I’ve been blessed with.

With a little gentle probing many women have opened up to me and talked about their relationships with their husbands. Some don’t even share the same bed. Most women speak of their husbands’ infidelities as if it’s just a part of the marriage package. Almost all are forced to “perform” on demand and receive no sexual pleasure from their husband. But their strength is for their children and grandchildren they are raising single handedly. It’s not an unfamiliar sight to see a woman in her sixties or seventies washing a mountain of laundry by hand with a little one tied to her back. These women inspire me while at the same time my insides weep for them.

The language barrier continues to challenge me everyday. What once was a novelty has become a daily struggle. My use of Sepedi is what often brings me closer to the people around me. Yet, their use of Sepedi is what pushes me away. I more often choose to be by myself then sit in a room with other people and feel alone. My Sepedi grows stronger everyday but despite my efforts I can understand very little of their conversations. The speed at which they speak is impossible for me to pick out words. And to complicate matters worse, the mother tongue of the village I live in is not the language I am learning. So unless I am engaged in a one on one conversation with someone who is willing to speak slowly and clearly for my understanding, I continue to sit alone. Some would say this should be a motivator to learn the language better. But the truth is, no matter how badly you want to learn to swim you can’t start in the deep end.

These daily struggles are invisible to the people around me. The thick skin I came here with is now gone. My breaking point now lives on the surface of my emotions. I am more raw and real then I ever have been. Now, it’s all about protecting myself and being proactive. What do I need right now? Where do I need to be? Who do I need to talk to? I’ve made decisions about work to maintain my happiness and productivity. I’ve had numerous conversations with my host Mom so she can understand my challenges and reactions more clearly and be a support for me, a role she has truly embraced. I know what works for me and what doesn’t. I know when to walk away and when to stay. I’m actually living in a survival mode now. If I don’t do the things necessary to protect myself emotionally and mentally I won’t be able to stay here. I often feel weak when I make the decision to get up and leave a situation but then again I feel stronger than ever because I’m acting on my behalf and doing what’s best for me without harming anyone else and I consider that strength. This may be a phase of adjustment I’m growing through. Sometimes it feels like a valley in the rollercoaster experience that Peace Corps is. But knowing yourself better than you ever have before would qualify as a peak. I believe the Universe is setting me up for success when I see the miracles all around me; my host Mom, David, my supervisor, the wonderful people I work with, the support I have from home and the lessons I embrace everyday.

Everyone, at one time or another has been thankful not to be “that person.” You know, the one who trips up the stairs, doesn’t think before speaking and immediately regrets it, is experiencing unfortunate circumstances or is remembered for something they’d rather not be and you think to yourself, “I’m glad I’m not him/her.” Most people would rather be known for their uniqueness, personal attributes, talents, accomplishments, and people would know them as the person who did something great. We all want to be different, just not so different that we stick out. It’s basic human nature. Another common trait of human nature is the desire to be with people who are like us. Simply put, like attracts like.

Living in a poor, black, rural community has forced my social and emotional comfort zone to stretch in ways I never would have imagined. At first glance I am nothing like the people who surround me so it has forced me to find our likenesses. In the eyes of the people in my village I am the first white person in the world to learn Sepedi. I’m the white girl who washes her clothes by hand, takes bucket bathes, does the dishes, knows how to cook pap and eats it too (the staple porridge that requires quite a technique to cook), who uses an outhouse, eats with her hands, uses public transportation and so on and so on. I’m the one who is visiting their schools, talking to the teachers and shaking the hand of every learner. I am, to them, “that person,” the one who is like no one they have ever met.

People look at me strangely everyday, everywhere I go. They are only curious about me. Although I’ve always known that it took a long time and a few tears to get used to. Today I smile, greet them and take pleasure in their immediate changes. They want to know more; where am I from, why am I here, what do I think about their people, how is it different from my home, and how is South Africa treating me. I am humbled and honored to be living with a celebrity status. It has given me the opportunity to shift their views, change their perspectives and help them develop a better understanding of, not only white people, but Americans. Being different from everyone around you can be one of the most difficult and challenging things, but it’s how you choose to use the opportunity that guides your ability to cope, adjust, accept and, in the end, be accepted yourself.

It’s been five months since I moved to Moshate. I have met over five thousand learners and a hundred teachers by spending time at nine different schools in my village and surrounding area. Most of the taxi drivers know me by name and people holler from afar to greet me when I am anywhere this side of the tar road. I don’t feel like a stranger around my home anymore and when I show up at celebrations or community events I am greeted with smiles and hugs from so many people. Its moments like that I forget I am white. So when I’m laughed at, stared at or simply treated differently I must remind myself that both good and bad are parts of living a life as “that person.”

I got the $5000 grant I applied for. I'm so excited to be starting an Arts Program at Aletuke. The benefits of this new program will run high and wide. I'm on a search for story books that have a healthy lesson to be learned. With those types of stories it's fun to create an activity to go with the story. Right now I'm very interested in "The Story of 1000 Paper Cranes" and "The Giving Tree." If anyone would like to donate and send one of these stories that would rock my world. Please let me know if you are planning to do so and I will eliminate it from this posting. Embroidery floss is a hot commodity and is very expensive here (about $1.00 per skein). I received some already and would love to get more.

If anyone has any resources for teaching life skills/lessons and complimentary craft activities those would be great. I'm always looking for new ideas for all ages.

I would love to have a big bucket of Legos for the kids to play with. For all you folks who have a bucket left over from the kids that is shoved in the back of your closet, send them on over. My kids would do flips over them. ANY creative manipulatives would be awesome.

I have received a donation to purchase an LCD projector. We plan to create a movie theater at the center for the community and use it as an income generating project. Again, if you have any movies you are willing to part with that would be terrific. We can use VHS and DVD.

The results of a big survey we took of all the children we serve and their guardians show that these children are in dire need of almost all basic items. To keep the list short and simple yet containing items easily collected we would love any of the following:

SOCKS- ages 5 to 19

TOOTHBRUSHES and TOOTHPASTE

UNDERWEAR- ages 5 to 19 boys and girls (most of our children only have 1 or 2 pairs at best- boys wear more tighty-whitey style here)

FACECLOTHS

FEMININE PADS/TAMPONS (girls are using more pads)

I'm going to work on bigger and heavier items from here like bath towels, soap, pillows, bed sheets and blankets.

If you want to collect $ for me to purchase from this end a towel costs about $3. A nice heavy blanket for winter nights (which are really cold- I had 4 blankets on my bed this winter) are about $20 each. Contact me for money transfer info.

Anything that gets sent to me should be in an envelop of some kind if possible and be sent to: Darcy Stillman, Box 3350, Mokopane, 0600, South Africa (five lines total). Thanks for all the support so far.

Last but not least, if anyone wants to simply make a gift of cash that is always appreciated.

Sending peace and love to all you people who are keeping up with my life here.

Last month I had the amazing privilege of being a part of a huge family celebration from the food preparations on Saturday to the party clean-up on Monday. It was an unbelievable amount of work that brought with it great joy, satisfaction, honor, experiences of all kinds and some hard lessons as well. Celebrations here in South Africa have their own traditions and rituals. On Saturday morning I rode in the back of a little pick-up truck with the meat of an entire cow, the head nearly resting in my lap. After unloading all the meat the first major task was to clean and prepare the intestine and stomach to be cooked. It took five of us almost two hours to clean, trim and portion it all. If there was ever a time I had to shut off my nose and breathe through my mouth this was it. These huge flies, hundreds of them, could smell the intestine from miles away and came to feast on the goods. But as we were handling it the flies were landing all over us too. The cow intestine is a highly desirable part of the cow and is what is eaten the night before a party. Family and friends arrived that evening for a meal of pap (staple porridge) and intestine. The next morning it was back to the cutting board preparing beetroot, squash, potato salad, bean salad, fried chicken, more pap, soup and cooking more beef.

The party was to celebrate my sister’s graduation from college. We fed about two hundred people that day. After everyone was fed the drinking began. And boy can these people drink and party. There is something about South Africans that lean them towards music played at ear-piercingly loud volumes. Every event I have attended it is the same. The sound system is turned up so loud there isn’t even room in my head for my own thoughts. This party was no exception. It’s mostly men who drink but the women tend to do it on-the-sly. When it comes to drinking they are serious about it. When you live in poverty where you can’t even put food on your table and you attend a celebration where alcohol is served it’s like a get-out-of-your-life free card for one night.

The day after was clean-up day. Women appeared from all over to come scrub the big cast-iron kettles, do dishes and pick up the trash left from the night before. Let me make a note that trashcans rarely exist here. Even when they are made available at a party they are seldom used. It is disturbingly acceptable to drop your bottle/trash where you are when you are done with it. On this day my Aunt woke up at 4:00am to make fresh biscuits for all the help. Another party must-do. When people come to clean you need to have tea and biscuits to offer them when they take a break and when they are done. The men’s job is to grill the rest of the beef and cook the cow’s head. All the help is also fed a meal before they leave. When the cow’s head is done all the men, and only the men, gather around it with a huge bowl of porridge and eat standing up. They were like vultures tearing at this cow’s head. My sepedi wowed them and I was able to get in on some of this action. Some were not so gracious but others realized I just wanted to join them for the experience not to threaten their manhood. So I can now say that I have eaten cow brain, eye, heart, spleen and marrow. One gentleman told me to put my palm out. He knocked a huge bone on my hand and out came a huge glop of marrow. I slurped it right up like a pro. I must admit that everything has a same similar flavor but varying textures.

In the course of three days we consumed and entire cow. No part was wasted and it all had it’s own place in the celebration. The amount of work hours it took to pull an event off like this was amazing. There is no such thing as cutting corners or purchasing anything packaged or frozen-prepared or disposable. It is part of the custom here that when someone you know is having a party you show up to help. Everyone lends their fire kettles, dishes, bowls, plastic ware and their own two hands. It felt really good to be a part of such an event. Did I mention that I slaughtered twenty-eight chickens myself for this party? That’s a whole other story that will have to wait.

This morning I attended a funeral, or what I thought was going to be the funeral, for one of our homebased care patients. She was an elderly gogo who simply died of old age. There were ten of us from Aletuke who walked to the other side of my village for the service. The first thing I saw as we approached the home was a group of men gathered around what was left of a slaughtered cow and they were cutting the ribs apart. We went inside the old, canvas tent that had been rented for the services throughout the week. Two people from my group went into the house to announce our arrival, pay our condolences and give a small gift of money. One of the elderly family members joined us for a prayer and the singing of a couple songs. My group proceeded to sing for about a half hour when the family brought us all tea and biscuits. It’s South African culture for the family of the deceased to feed the people who come to mourn the death of their family member. The slaughtered cow is to feed all the people after the actual funeral on Saturday morning. When we were finished I helped carry all the dirty dishes from my group to the back of the house where many women were socializing with each other and tending fires for heating water and cooking. I was dressed up but didn’t hesitate to roll my sleeves back and help do the dishes. I took water from the fire and a cloth from the drying line and went to work. The women were looking at me from all over, smiling and pointing in awe. Margaret, who was about my age told me she had never seen a white person wash dishes. In fact, none of the women thought white people did anything with their own hands. I told them I cook, clean, wash my clothes and even eat, all with my hands. They could not believe it. As I walked home I had this great feeling of accomplishment. Not for doing the dishes but for being a Peace Corps volunteer here in South Africa and being that person who helped change their perspective of white people. These are the moments that are life changing for not only me but the women who witnessed something they never thought possible.