‘I’ve been absolutely terrified every moment of my life and I’ve never let it keep me from doing a single thing that I wanted to do,” read a quote by Georgia O’keefe during the first leg of PC training.

Many times I have struggled to find the meaning in all of this and when I look back on that quote, I think to myself that perhaps our souls were placed in these bodies of ours to experience everything we possibly could in this life. We have a thought, an idea, a hunch that we’d like to do something. Sometimes what we believe we want to do causes more pain and suffering than we would have experienced had we not gone after that thing. But it’s also true that through those experiences, we take in everything life has to offer and are then transformed into a fullness of our own being. We will never reach the level that we want for ourselves, but we pushed ourselves as far as we could go, and thereby, have achieved a completeness of our own.

I know that when I’m an 80 year old woman sitting in my rocking chair, I won’t feel like I missed out on life because I was afraid to take chances. I will have taken everything I could from this world and when it’s time to take my last breath, I will nod off peacefully and without struggle. My advice is, if you want to do something, go for it with a willingness to suffer.

A special thanks to those who helped me through:

Thank you to my host family, who housed me and took care of me during training, especially my brother Ronnie who cooked for me and woke up at 4am to turn the geezer on so I’d have a warm bath. You will forever be my brother and I will never forget you.

Thank you to my Batswana family on the compound with whom I lived with for the last 2years, you’ve always kept me safe. You accepted me, and eventually…. even the Zim I brought home! You not only accepted him, but treated him as your son, then did the unthinkable….had him as your best man at your wedding! Thank you for your openness, hospitality and teaching me the ways of a different culture.

Thank you to the folks at Kagisano with whom I worked at the end of my service, you were welcoming, appreciated my effort and restored my sanity. Because of you, I left Africa lighter on my feet with my head held high.

Thank you to my sister Nancy, who sent many a package, letter and fulfilled requests for warm blankets, needed documents, made many phone calls and took care of my finances. I wouldn’t have made it without you. You were ALWAYS there for me. Thank you!

Thank you, Dad for your support, patience, understanding and acceptance. Thanks too for the letters which I will cherish for the rest of my life.

Thank you to my sister, Paula for all the letters, emails and cool Suffolk University blanket which I’ve kept on top of my bed for the last year.

Thank you to my nephew Will and his wife, Kristin for the INCREDIBLE packages (esp suzie Qs, Twinkies, bulls eyes!). Thank you for the thoughtful letters, support and understanding.

Thank you to my nephew Danny and his wife, Karen, who always believed in me and also generously donated a ‘learn to type’ program to my school.

Thank you, brother Tom and his wife Marty who sent me many books, magazines, clothes and air mattresses for my bedless neighbors. Thanks Tom, for your relentless attempts to reach me by phone, mostly failing, but never giving up. Those short conversations helped bring me back to earth and understand I was still Jennifer.

Thank you, brother George and wife Donna for my beloved coffee and coffee pot which I would never have made it through the two years without. Thanks also for the best kick-ass hot chocolate that I’m still salivating over and for the remedies which kept me out of the hospital.

Thank you Billy, Wendy, Emma, Lindsey and Jamie for staying in contact as much as your chaotic lives allowed and also for allowing some people from a very different culture have a peek into your lives.

Thanks Josh, for the support. It meant more than you will ever know.

Thank you, Jeanne, the mysterious stranger and former PCV, who sent me the lovely package out of the blue.

Thank you, AnnMarie, for sending the Mary Kay oil absorbing face tissues that I happened to believe at the time were very important to have. But moreover, thank you for all the memories I had of you, me and Joe, laughing and having fun during lighter days at the SSC Wellness Center, those memories sometimes got me through the rough times.

Thanks to all other friends who stayed in contact with me via email and facebook. You all played a role in helping me get through this challenging experience.

Thank you, Dee Dee, for your generosity and support by offering a place of residence to two homeless people who will be arriving back to the US very shortly.

And finally, thank you Kate and Molly, my Supreme Guru’s, who taught me what it means to selflessly give. You did this not through words but by your actions each and every day…tirelessly and relentlessly. I will never reach your level of enlightenment, but one cannot train with Masters without learning something.

………..See you all on that side

“Good bye my friend, you never know when the last time will be the last time do you? See you on that side. The best part of PC was making friends like you”. ~Love, Betty the Bulldozer (aka Kate Greenmun aka Oratile)

May, I thought, was going to be my month to return home to the US. My group, Bots 7s earliest possible Close of Service date was May 18. PC wanted to get us out of here before all of the chaos with the World Cup began, so the required 27 month service got whittled down to 25. I was planning on leaving, but here it is, May 19 and I’m still here! The other day in Gabs, I saw the smiles, bursts of joy and peaceful looks on the faces of those articulating the words…”I’m leaving tomorrow.”It was a strange feeling when the reality of it hit me. I believe there is only one other volunteer in our group who is extending for a 3rd year and a few others who are leaving the first week in June.

Here, I remain, struggling with slow Internet connections, fax machines with no paper, a lack of ink in copy machines and unable to make a simple phone call to get a document that I need to complete my fiance’s visa application. It took about 3 hours to get home from Gabs during rush-hour traffic in a crowded bus with all the windows rolled up just so I could have free access to these amenities. I wasn’t made for this…I get car sick in a Mercedes Benz or even swinging on a swing in a child’s playground.

I can’t leave without him, so I decided to stay. The good news is: I have a new assignment at the Kagisano Women’s Shelter, Peace Corps is paying for my housing, so I’ll be 100% free from the strangling-dysfunctional grip of the Ministry of Education and phase two of the visa application process is in the mail (as completed as possible) and on it’s way to SA.

Life is funny they way things turn out is sometimes the last way you’d expect. My last day at the school was relatively uneventful. The school head made an announcement of my departure during assembly the previous Friday. I baked oatmeal raisin cookies and a traditional food here called Dipapata and handed them out during the last few days. I left my email address on the white board and asked people to keep in touch.

There were announcements made about having tea for me with the staff and a collection to buy Masa a goodbye gift was discussed- none of which came to fruition- but I was just as relieved not to have the teachers spending their money on me and I preferred to make my exit as quietly and inconspicuously as possible. It had been a very complicated situation.

It’s been over a week since my last day and I’ve already been back to the school checking on my mail and some of the staff. I have not yet started my new job as I’ve been using up my leave days. I’ll be going to the school Monday to say my last goodbye to the English speaking club which I didn’t get a chance to do. I want to make sure they are able to finish the bead project I started with them.

The infamous mural art project has finally begun, albeit, the topic that was agreed upon has been changed and the teachers are doing the actual artwork instead of the students. I still don’t know if the students got the snacks that they were supposed to receive as a reward for their work….. but then again….. if they weren’t doing the actual work……I guess it doesn’t really matter……

And so I begin my last phase of my PC adventure. As I test the waters of a new job title, I’ll be working on getting Thuba (my fiancé) and myself home so that we can begin our new lives together. We are both very excited about spending our future in a distant land across the great Atlantic Ocean far from the Kgalagadi, Okavongo, and acacia trees called, the United States of America.

"With Clifford’s death, I honestly think that if he was taken to the hospital and given some medical attention he ‘might’ have survived. But on the other hand, I think we just have to accept that it happened and what’s done, it’s done. You know, everything in life happens for a reason. God has a plan for all of us and that’s why we should always accept whatever life throws at us. Rest in peace my brother. We will know the truth sometime soon. And Masa I am so hurt that you have to go. You really helped all of us here in Motswasele a lot. Thanks for everything and God bless you."

~ Anonymous MJJ student

As I walk home from a PACT meeting with the kids at school, I hear a dog screeching in the distance. Immediately, I know it’s coming from my house- not an uncommon sound at the family compound. I enter the gate and see the young neighbor girl beating our family’s small, fragile dog with a stick as it shrieks at the top of its lungs. My Motswana mother, the girl’s aunt, is standing over her laughing in amusement and coaching her as if perfecting the skills she will someday use to rear her future children. The smaller dog, whose ribs protrude from his body, is on the other side of the house cowering, tail between legs, fearing he will be next. Abuse and neglect are so common here that they have lost their shock value.

At school, it is commonplace to see two students carrying another student who has fallen ill and is losing consciousness, crying or reeling in some type of pain. The teachers’ eyes remain fixed straight ahead as they casually walk by the ailing child. Generally, the student is brought into the HODs office, is sat down and recovers from whatever it was and sent back to class, business as usual. Last term, one student wasn’t so lucky after becoming ill while running around the field in the blazing, hot sun during after school athletics. Instead of taking him to the hospital, per request of the sick boy, a teacher dropped him off at his house and left him. His mother came home that day to find her son dead. No disciplinary action has been taken on the teacher. From what I can tell, there is never any disciplinary action taken on teachers aside from possibly a verbal tongue lashing by the school head. In the beginning of our service, a fellow PCV told us a story about a teacher from her school who dumped gas on his girlfriend and set her on fire. The teacher continues teaching at her school to this day.

I’ve met some descent teachers since I’ve been here, but apathy, abuse and neglect are no doubt contagious. When the boy died at my school, it was frightening how all the teachers pulled together to cover up what happened. Disappointingly, even some of my favorite teachers were protecting their coworker. I also no longer have the strong reactions I once did. Most of my emotional outbursts came during my first year. If I were a permanent resident here, perhaps I too would shrug things off with ease. In some ways, it’s a healthier reaction for the observer, but not so much for the future of this country. Who knows, maybe the strong reactions I displayed earlier in my service got some people thinking. Change will never happen until people start speaking out. In our country, people demonstrated, spoke out and sometimes died to get things to change, but it’s not my job to produce big change, so instead, every morning I walk by the teachers standing at the school entrance while holding their long, thin sticks, I flash them a smile and say, “Dumalang, o tsogile jang?”

I must not forget that, at times, positive occurrences do happen; for instance, the PACT club event which 10 surrounding schools participated in, including mine. The event was organized by local LSs PCVs and run by PACT members. Our schools’ presentation topic fell under Health and Fitness, but our students specifically discussed heat related illnesses and dehydration; I thought a good way to address these issues since the unfortunate incident at my school. My kids did a great job, had a wonderful time and learned something to boot. Preparing them for this event and coaching them through it, brought us even closer and left me with a feeling I had accomplished something positive.

Over the course of the last term, I also met with the PACT and English speaking clubs to teach them the art of bead making using paper. With this skill, they can make beautiful jewelry which they may keep for themselves, sell or give away. Former PCVs have handed this craft down to new PCVs coming into the country with the intention of providing the locals with a way of earning money. Some PCVs have really gotten into this and have helped students raise money for their school clubs and so forth. Out of desperation, I finally decided to learn the skill myself and have been teaching my students and some of my neighbors. One day, I had a bead making party at my house with the only dissonance being a pair of glasses stolen, but hey, considering what I go through at the school…it wasn’t that bad! Teaching the art of bead making is a great way to integrate with the community. I only wish I had done it when I first arrived. It would have been a much better integration tool as opposed to conducting a needs assessment at my school.

Another positive event was the hike I went on with Kate (Oratile) and her kids from Moruakgomo JJS. After jumping through several hoops, Kate was able to take her PACT club on a hike in Thamaga, another village not far from ours to climb the rock piles known as kjopies, which are some of the oldest rocks in the world.

The PCV in Thamaga also joined us and gave the kids a great lesson on the history of the ancient rocks. [You can view many pictures of these rock piles on my Picasa web album located on the right side of my blog. Just click my Peace Corps pictures.] In conclusion, the kids had a great time, learned something, had a nice lunch which was paid for by their school, and no one got hurt. I call that a success!

Lastly, the grant from the DAC office for the PACT club and mural art project finally came to fruition and we actually received the requested snacks. My kids have been very happy while eating their snacks during our PACT meetings. I may not be reducing AIDS but at least I’m filling their bellies! The mural art project started back in 2008 is currently still on hold, but hey, Rome was not built in a day!

So there you have it…success does occur every once in a while!

Have patience with all things, but chiefly have patience with yourself. Do not lose courage in considering your own imperfections but instantly set about remedying them - every day begin the task anew.

~Saint Francis de Sales

Early in the term, a teacher asked me what I missed most about America. I was surprised at my immediate reaction as my eyes became watery while I uttered the words, “feeling useful… feeling needed…. feeling wanted.”

For the next few days the question followed me and my mind continued to come up with more answers. One morning during school assembly, while listening to the school head give his typical Monday morning talk (angry rant) to the student body, I thought to myself, I miss feeling inspired; like anything is possible as long as I’m willing to do the work required. It seems the system here creates so much discouragement that it’s amazing anything gets done at all.

In some ways, things are probably even more difficult, though, for us ‘lekgoa,’ as there is little trust regarding our intentions. I guess when one thinks about the history between whites and, backs one can understand why there is so much resistance and lack of desire for our assistance. It seems as if there is a love/hate relationship towards Americans. I have walked into events that I had nothing to do with organizing and been sat at the head table set aside for VIPs solely because I was a white person. In retrospect, I chuckle to myself that I’ve been used as a prop at local events. The message that I’ve received since I’ve been here is that Lekgoa or whites are better seen and not heard. Even our school head that prefers I do as little as possible, makes it a point to have me address all of the parents during PTA meetings.

As I approached my last semester at my school, I wanted to accomplish a few simple tasks before my service came to a close. But to do this, I knew it would require a lot of effort to organize a new counterpart, someone at the school willing to work with me as my supervisor.

I had a particular person in mind and requested support from Peace Corps to help me with this endeavor. This task entailed several meetings between myself, Peace Corps staff, school administration, and the old and new potential counterparts. Finally, it was time for the PC person in charge of Life Skills to physically come to my school for more meetings between PC staff, myself, school administration and counterparts. During these meetings, plans were agreed upon regarding projects I wanted to get done before my close of service date. Plans were now in place, such as meeting with the PACT club every Tues and Thurs during study, moving forward with the mural art project (that I started in 2008) and getting everything set up before I went on a month long leave. I felt it was important to organize teachers to take over my projects, such as working the PACT club while I was gone because there was a PACT event scheduled to take place at another school as soon as I got back that the club needed to be prepared for. Now all I had to do was spend the next couple of weeks at my school getting the ball rolling so that things would be moving by the time took leave.

BLAM!!!!

Just as plans began moving forward, the MOE & PC informed me that I suddenly had to attend a week long Ministry of Education workshop! For the first time since joining PC, with three weeks of actual work left at the school, I finally said….send me home! “I am not going to the workshop, you can send me home,” I believe were my exact words. In that moment, I was totally prepared to give up my readjustment allowance, all of the work and effort I had spent, leave my fiancé here, pack my bags and fly home. As I was going through this, I asked myself how important the things I was doing were if they can pull me away at the drop of a hat as if everything I had been working on was meaningless.

The woman from the MOE called me immediately after my request to leave and convinced me to go to, at least, part of the workshop. During this conversation, I developed some compassion for her situation as she explained how she was in a situation having no choice but to schedule things at the last minute…which is always how everything is done around here, there’s really no getting around it. So I figured out a way to attend as much of the workshop as I could, while maintaining my commitments at the school.

During the workshop I was able to explain some of the obstacles I had come up against pertaining to my role as a ‘capacity builder’ during my two year stint. Jane from the MOE commended me on some initiatives I had attempted such as connecting social workers to the schools. Connecting schools with the S&CD office is now a future endeavor on the list of Life Skills goals. I felt good walking out of the workshop that day, like my mission had been successful, I made a positive impact and the MOE took notice and wanted to use my ideas in the future. It wasn’t all a big fat waste! But this feeling of euphoria didn’t last long….the very next day, the woman who had been my acting CP got up and threw me under the bus in front of the entire workshop making me sound like a tyrant, saying I shouted at teachers and alienated myself from everyone at the school.

It was a devastating blow for me, as I wasn’t allowed to defend myself while she was talking. By the time I was given a chance to talk, I remembered there were times when I lost it and I didn’t want to go on in front of everyone like a blabbering idiot, so I sat tongue tied. I have to say, that was one of the worst moments of my life, but it also got me to take a deeper look at myself, my own weaknesses and the part I played in the failed attempts at carrying out projects at the school.

In the following weeks, I went back and forth in my mind trying to figure out if my behavior was really that bad or was it just that this woman felt jilted and was acting out of revenge because I had basically excused her from her job as my CP. In the end, I decided it wasn’t that dramatic either way, there had been times when I responded emotionally and I could probably learn something about myself from this experience, but at the same time, not beat myself up about it because I knew that I had done the best I could under the circumstances. I also knew that if it had been my new or original counterpart who was there, those things never would have been said about me.

As much as I get frustrated about the apathy around here, I’ve learned that it doesn’t do much good to let my emotions get the best of me. I can also see the wisdom in the advice from a former PCV who said, “Don’t want it more than they do.” I guess it is up to me to decide whether this experience is going to damage me or make me a stronger, wiser person. I think I prefer being stronger and wiser….so stronger and wiser it shall be.

Hope begins in the dark, the stubborn hope

that if you just show up and try to do the right

thing, the dawn will come. You wait and watch

and work: You don’t give up.

~Anne Lamott, writer

The 2009 school year has come to a close along with the last general meeting of the year, which I had been dreading. As is turned out, the School Head did not attend and there was no discussion regarding the report I had submitted. Although, one of the art teachers who was responsible for the mural art project had asked (and I paraphrase)’what was going on between the Peace Corps Volunteer and the Guidance and Counseling committee,’ which opened it up for me to say that I had no counterpart so things have been very difficult. This was handled by the Deputy Head suggesting that we (me , ‘my counterpart,’ and the Guidance and Counseling committee) work this out at another time outside of this particular meeting (translation: lets not deal with Lekgoa issues). As a result, nothing major happened at the meeting and I am still alive and breathing.

I spent a good part of the school break watching a fellow volunteer’s house because it’s a prime target for break-ins. There was no running water and the standpipe had even been shut off for much of the time. Other than that, all in all, it was ok because I got away from the school for a while. But now I’m here, back at the school for my final school term (I think). I’ve come to a point where I don’t know what comes next as I await my fiancé’s immigration process to go through. If the process takes longer than 6 months, I may extend my service, but I’m no longer sure I’m willing to do that as the prospect of leaving in May sounds more and more appealing every day.

On a more positive note…

Because I’ve had such a hard time staying consistent with my exercise program, a fellow PCV and I have started a competition to encourage each other to stick to working out regularly and we would like to invite anyone who is interested to join us. The competition goes as follows:

Each person competing sets his or her own personal exercise goal. My goal is to run 5 days a week for at least 30 minutes and to complete 2 strength training sessions per week (that would be a total of 7 exercise sessions). Kate’s goal is the same. It is each of our responsibilities to keep track of how many sessions we’ve completed and to figure the % of our goals that we reached every week. We will do this by dividing the number of completed exercise sessions by the target number we’ve set at the end of each week. For example, If I run 3 days and complete 2 strength training sessions that would mean I completed 5 out of 7 of my exercise sessions, so I divide 5/7=71%. So I reached 71% of my goal for that week. Whoever ends up with the highest percentage wins. We’ll be figuring our calculations out every week and whoever has the highest percentage at the end of the month wins. Kate and I are competing against each other for a movie or lunch, but we invite anyone who wants to participate to submit his or her name and scores to be posted on my blog every month. Send names and scores to my email address : peacemonger08@gmail.com. Anyone who wants to find a partner to compete with for a prize can do so.

The point is, anyone who is having a hard time sticking to his or her exercise program may find it encouraging, due to humiliation factor alone, having his or her name and results posted publicly on my blog every month. If a little extra encouragement is needed participants can also pair up with partners like Kate and I did and agree to treat the winner at the end of each month to a movie or dinner. The best part of this contest is that everyone can set his or own personal goal, so even if your desire is to walk a little extra every week, you can do so. There is no minimum or maximum amount of exercise one has to do—it’s totally up to each individual! Kate and I have been competing for a month, so I can say from experience that it has already helped both of us stay consistent with our workouts. We have both reached 100% of our goal.

Life Skills Concept #11: Dilemmas

Dilemma- a situation that requires a choice between two unappealing alternatives.

This past week I had to make a decision that could be considered a dilemma. A dilemma that was self-invoked that began with an idea I came up with in a moments notice: To ask my students one simple question, “What can the Ministry of Education do to make your school experience better?” The problem is, when I come up with these bright ideas, I don’t foresee the path of headaches that they’ll lead me on. First of all, the 17 pages of comments that needed to be typed into the report, and secondly the consequences suffered from submitting the report.

There I was, holding in my hands, an in depth proclamation of the problems plaguing the school; problems that redirect the blame off of the students and onto the teachers and administration; a place where no one has dared to venture until now….until the ‘lekgoa’ has dared to expose the forbidden domain. I had handed similar reports over to the administration in the past, but this was different. This time I asked a specific question and received very specific answers, some included names of teachers. So my moral dilemma was this: Should I hand the report over to the school administration, which I know would leak out to the teachers, as everything always does, and suffer more alienation and resistance OR should I hold onto it until just before I leave so I don’t have to deal with it?

Hmmm…..

My dilemma was solved one day while I was sitting in the computer lab typing up a letter, when a teacher asked me for some help correcting the grammar and spelling of the minutes of the last general meeting. While doing this, I was reminded that the last time I handed my report over to the School Head, it made a difference. He had met with all of the students to confirm what was written in the report and discussed their feedback at this meeting. After that meeting, corporal punishment was significantly reduced…..for a little while. But it didn’t take long before things were back to normal. The truth was, though, it had made a small impact and at least started a discussion. So as I helped the young teacher correct the minutes, I made a decision to hand in the report that day regardless of how it would affect me personally. I could then be the great martyr and think of myself as the sacrificial lamb. Fun stuff!

So here I sit, a bit frightened, anticipating the final general meeting of the year. It will be all of them….and me….with no counterpart or any other support system. I never imagined my Peace Corps experience to be like this. When I used to read the Peace Corps mission statement, it seemed like all or at least most interactions with fellow workers would be peaceful and harmonious, a nice cozy situation of people helping people, if you will:

*To help people of interested countries in meeting their needs for trained men and women

*To help promote a better understanding of Americans on the part of people served

*To help promote a better understanding of other people on the part of all Americans

Yes indeed, it all sounded so cuddly.

To be continued…

Learn to Fail

or

Fail to Learn

The time has come for the form 3s to take their final exams along with the form 1s and 2s who will be taking their end of month exams. The students seem to always be taking exams without much classroom teaching. As I walk by teachers correcting exams, I look at the papers and sometimes see… 6%! The only tests that really count are the final exams that are taken at the end of form 3. The final test covers everything on the syllabus since form 1 and will determine whether the student will make it to progress on to Senior Secondary school. Sometimes the syllabus is not completely covered, so much of the time, kids are taking tests on topics they’ve never been taught.

I went to school last Monday thinking the kids would be taking exams. I would not be teaching, but once I got into school, plans had changed because no one ordered paper to print the tests on. Suddenly, my day went from having no classes to having four. As I sauntered along to my first class, which would take place in the pavilion, I was taken by surprise by a group of children standing outside the classroom. They were form 3s waiting to take their exams. On the other side of the pavilion, there were more students coming and going in and out. There was no divider up today to separate the pavilion into two classrooms-it was just one big open space. I entered my classroom to attempt to teach, but soon realized it was an impossible situation….now mind you…I try to use the term, impossible, loosely..but this..I have to say... WAS an impossible situation! I exited the pavilion and saw a teacher who directed me to go to classroom # 4, where he said, my class would move to. As I walked to the classroom, I noticed what looked like, an African version of Woodstock. Kids were everywhere…carrying chairs and desks over their heads, socializing and creating lots of noise. There were no teachers around that I could see.

I entered classroom# 4 and there was my class sitting around the perimeter of the classroom without any desks. ‘Ok,’ I said to myself, ‘this is where being flexible and creative comes in.’ So I asked one of the students to read out of the Life Skills book. As she read, there were mobs of students walking all around outside of the classroom. Many students were still coming into the classroom late. Other students were knocking on the windows. Being the stubborn PCV, I had the girl continue to read, but all of a sudden, a group of students started knocking on the door wanted to come in. My students said, “they want to use this classroom.” I said, “no.”With this response…everyone stood up and exited classroom! This is when I said to myself….’I’m going home.’ And home I went to take a nap.

Tuesday the students were scheduled to resume writing exams, but were told once again that they would have regular classes and take tests on Wednesday. I had planned to go to an appointment that day which I had previously made at the District AIDS Commission (DAC) to apply for funding for the school, but now I was supposed to teach because of the last minute changes. I decided to stick with my original plan and went to the appointment. Maybe this is part of the reason why teachers are missing classes so frequently.

I won’t get into too much detail about the confusion that went on for the rest of the week with the day changes and so forth. The way the schedule works is by scheduling the same classes on day 1,2, 3,4,5,6. So if Monday is day 6 and Tuesday is a holiday, Wed will be day 1. If tests are given, the day will also be skipped. So when I came in on Monday, I thought it was day 3 but it was really day 5, so I missed another 2 classes!

All of this confusion got me thinking about the student’s perspective on all of this. If I was confused and frustrated…how must they feel? So on Monday when I finally made the last 20 minutes of a class, I decided to ask the students that very question. I explained to them my whole experience over the last week and asked them if it was confusing for them as well. I asked them to write an anonymous comment on a small piece of paper, what makes it difficult to learn. What can the Ministry of Education do to make it easier to learn? I continued this activity with my classes for the rest of the week and these were some of the responses:

*It is difficult 4 me 2 learn because some of the teachers here are mean and this becomes difficult for us to be comfortable in class. We are always asking ourselves, “What will she to this time around?” We live in fear and discomfort.

*I am really concerned about the time that we are given to write tests. We write test two days which means that we are not given enough time for a single paper and as a result we do not have time to finish up the test and fail the tests.

*How can we learn when there are no chairs, tables and even teachers for some subjects in school? Sometimes we spend the whole two periods of our lessons with the teachers absent. Where is the teacher? We really don’t have a clue coz we are not being told but at the end of the year expected to pass with flying colors. Even the teachers at times are the ones who make us fail.eg if the teacher who teaches you a certain subject hates you there’s no way you can pass. TEACHERS HATE US PEOPLE!!

*I’m afraid to ask teachers questions when I don’t understand

*The food that we eat at the kitchen is not good sometimes when we eat we find cockroaches, small warms in this food and this lead to some certain disease and we cannot also concentrate on our education. Why can we do can we stop eating school food

*There is no need for Saturday study, we just come and sit here and go home empty brains and sometimes get beaten. What worries a lot is that some students didn’t ever manage to come to the study and no punishment is given to them, but those who come are beaten by the teacher just because they talked during the study but that doesn’t make any sense because you can’t study with out getting help from other student, for example, mathematics you can’t study math without getting help from friend (you don’t understand a maths problem during the study you ask someone behind you, you get beaten) HELP! Masa we are abused we are looking up for you now. What can we do?

On Nov. 5, I had no classes to teach, but planned to go into a classroom during extended registration to do a Life Skills activity. The school is still in mayhem from writing exams. What is supposed to happen is ---I go into a class during extended registration to co-facilitate a Life Skills activity with the class teacher---but what actually happens is-- the teacher is no where to be found, so I administer the activity by myself-- so much for capacity building!

As I begin my lesson, the students are hard to manage. They continue to talk while I’m explaining the lesson. Kids are outside the classroom coming and going. The reason this happens is because the kids are left unsupervised much of the time. A good portion of the class teachers are not in their classrooms, the kids are left ….helter skelter. The teachers and administration wonder why the kids are misbehaving and try everything except supervise them. I continue to attempt to teach this Life Skills lesson, but suddenly, a group of boys enter the door of the classroom located next to a closet. I see a teacher out of the corner of my eye. Something is going on in the closet which is distracting my class. I look over and see a metal object flailing around attempting to hit a student. My assumption is that the students are fighting, so I walk over to take the metal object away from the student…..but when I look in……it’s a teacher who is hitting the students with the object! The only thing I could do was exclaim….”oh, it’s a teacher!” With this, I walked over to my belongings, gathered them, and decided once again…. to go home. And home I went, but this time I did not take a nap.

I shouldn’t complain about my school, though, The Junior Secondary school down the road is preparing for a riot on the form 3’s last day. The PCV who works there is being blamed because she has been trying to limit the corporal punishment. Another school I know of is planning to release their form 1s and 2s early because the forms 3are planning to beat them up on their last day. So I guess it’s all relative.

For me to get through this, I always have to keep in mind that I’m here for the kids. During one of my classes, one of my students asked, “Masa, when are you going back to the US?” “Why,” I asked. “Because we are going to miss you,” she replied in a shy soft-spoken manner. ----This is why I stay.

Never good enough...

Another project that I’ve been working on since 2008, is a mural art project that was funded by Population Services International (PSI). After about 1 year of corresponding and meeting with a man from the organization, we were finally awarded P4000 in art supplies for our school. The art supplies have now been sitting for several months waiting to be used. One art teacher was particularly enthusiastic about the project and has been working with me. She hyped up the students, telling them that Botswana television would be here to cover the story…and what a big event it would be.

After many letters written and signed by administration to request media coverage, applications for grants applied for to cover snacks for the artists, meetings held with community members, announcements made during staff meetings, articles written, requests for suggestions for the theme of the project, letters signed by the school head----Our kickoff date was finally scheduled for Saturday November 7….

…..but when I arrived at the school there was no one around except one student. I waited about 30 minutes then finally sent an sms to the art teachers to let them know I was there.

No response.

One more student arrived.

About 10 minutes later, I rang one teacher, but got no answer. Then, a woman from the Daily News arrived to cover the story, so I sms’d the teachers again to let them know and asked them to grant the person an interview about what our project was about. The teachers arrived---one (the teacher who was originally enthusiastic about the project) talking on her cell phone and the other, wearing a long face expressing that he wasn’t feeling well and wasn’t going to come. About 10 minutes later, the woman who is supposed to be acting as my counterpart approached me to remind me that whatever I do, I need to go through her first and that I didn’t tell her about the media, therefore we cannot grant the interview because the School Head was not informed (Even though I had given him the letter I wrote to request them to come and had the Deputy Head sign it). At this point, I pretty much lost it because the woman never talks to me and refuses to give me her phone number. I can never find her, and when I can, it’s apparent she wants nothing to do with me.

The art teachers, the two students, the reporter and I met in the art lab to discuss what we were to do-and to conclude that we were not to do anything that day. I did not have the letter on me that was signed by the School Head, therefore, we could not grant the interview. The other excuse was that there was another event at the school taking place later that day. During this meeting, there were grand plans regarding what will happen on Monday. Everyone is always enthusiastic while talking about what will happen at later date…as long as we don’t have to deal with it now! The male art teacher went on to describe how he will work on sketches for the rest of the weekend, put them on a large board and bring it in on Monday to get everyone’s approval [Translation: criticism, verbal abuse and disapproval of the project].

Monday has come and gone….nothing

Tuesday has come and gone…nothing

The originally enthusiastic art teacher has not been talking to me and the other one looks at me as if someone has died.

Can’t say that I blame them when they know they are destined to fail.

This is just one more project I need to let go of…and let go of I have…

If you think your life is plagued with inconveniences…

I remember the days when I’d roll out of bed, meander over to my computer and connect to my high speed Internet. I’d check email while sipping a freshly brewed cup of coffee and have the news on in the background with a copy machine, printer and fax at my finger tips.

Things are very different in Africa. To make use of the Internet today, I first walked for about a ¼ mile from my school to the street carrying a heavy backpack to catch a taxi. The taxi driver dropped me off at the Internet café where I had left my memory stick last Saturday because I had to make a copy of one document. Luckily, my memory stick was there, but to save money, I now got back into another taxi to use the Internet at one of the schools. The taxi driver dropped me way up on route 6, where I would begin my journey walking along the dusty-dirt path in the blazing-hot sun to the school. About 20 minutes later, I arrived at the school and walked through groups of children who often sexually harass me as I walk by. Today was my lucky day, though, and I didn’t encounter any offensive behavior by the student body.

I finally arrived at the computer lab, walked in and was informed (after the traditional formal greetings) that there is no Internet; “there’s something wrong with the modem,” they replied in their easy, laid-back tone. “It may be a few days” [Translation: It could be anywhere from a few days, a few weeks or a few years].

I accept my situation, meander slowly over to Kate’s house, let myself in and do the only thing I can think of to comfort myself…..invade her refrigerator and indulge in a trash People magazine to read what a horribly difficult life Heather Locklear has had.

“Free yourself from the need of the good opinions of others,

start living your own truth now.”

New Beginnings international Empowerment and Wellness Specialists

If there's one thing I've learned during my PC experience, it's that living one's truth is the hardest thing in the world one can do, especially when expectations come into play and you don't live up to those expectations. You don't want to let other people down, even when you know you are doing the right thing. Speaking out against the abuse of the students, for example, has been difficult for me because it creates friction, and a part of me wants to turn my head to it because I want to be accepted by the teachers and administration. Before I came here, no matter how I tried not to, I had certain expectations about how my relationships with the people would be. I believe they had expectations of me as well and I think my loved ones back at home had their own expectations. I also had expectations about myself that I haven't lived up to. Being in the PC has shown me that I don't always have control over my life...and when I realized this, I had to keep changing and redefining my role, learn how to be flexible and let go of some expectations I placed on myself. I had to think long and hard about how I would deal with not living up to these expectations and decide if I'd let it destroy me or say to myself, I'm an imperfect human being (and so are those around me) who is doing the best I can. I sometimes make decisions that create positive results and I sometimes make decisions with lesser results. Then, sometimes the decisions I thought lead to disastrous results, in the end, turned out to be not so bad after all. Life is a series of taking chances, one after the other. You hope for the best. Sometimes what you think is the best decision in the world ends up not so good. The only thing you can do is get back up and move forward. Kay serah serah.

I confess that when my oldest brother decided to get married, I made judgments about his decision based on what I believed was his truth. Before he met his wife, he talked about what direction his life would go: Retiring early, driving his motorcycle and traveling around the country in a Winnebago. But then someone unexpectedly stepped into his life and everything changed. He met his wife and decided he wanted to go down a different path. What I believed was someone not being loyal to himself was really someone who had something unexpected happen and he then had to reevaluate how he wanted the direction of his life to go. He made a choice and probably pines for that Winnebago at times, but if he made the alternative choice he’d be pining after that woman he lost for the rest of his days. We can’t have it all, so we make our choices based on what we believe we can live with. Sometimes the universe drops these unexpected surprises into our lives making us reevaluate what we thought we wanted for ourselves and changes what we thought our truth was. What I’ve learned is that we should all respect each others decisions, whether we believe they are right or wrong, because as adults, we all have the right to change our minds and choose our own path.

What I've tried to do over the last 10 years, is open myself up to the genius at work in the universe. The last prayer I said, years ago was, I'm putting my life in your hands (speaking to the universe), just guide me in the direction that I should go and I'll do my best to follow. As I said this, I knew it wouldn't be the easier road; living this way takes a tremendous amount of trust. You have to let go of any feelings of control and are sometimes guided in a direction that doesn't seem to make any sense or be very practical... but I believe the universe is much wiser than myself and can make things happen even when things seem bleak or impossible.

As a former PCV once said, “PC changes you, but not in ways you would expect.”

For whatever reason, I felt a call to serve in the Peace Corps. It has taken me down a very difficult path. A path that has had its ups and downs and many learning experiences...more than I’ve ever imagined. Some people ask, 'Do you regret joining the Peace Corps,' and I've thought about it a lot. My answer is: No. If I never joined the PC, I would always have this thought hanging over my head that there was this thing I wanted to do during my lifetime that I never did. I would never have met the strongest women I know: My friends, Kate, Molly, Nicole and Andrea. I would never have met Hope (Tshegofelo), the wisest 15 year old girl who taught me how to persevere with grace in the most difficult of situations. I would have never understood the complexity of the most dreaded virus on the planet: HIV/AIDS and that we cannot make judgments about how we can stop the spread until we’ve walked in the shoes of those living in the inflicted countries. I would have never understood that the biggest driving force behind disease, violence and human suffering is poverty and how important it is to free MYSELF from it. And lastly, I would have never met the man who captured my heart after 10 years of believing love was just not meant for me...the man who inspired me to take yet another chance and marry him before I leave this incredible continent....... with all of its pains, joys, sorrows, frustrations and miracles......Africa.

“Free yourself from the need of the good opinions of others,

start living your own truth now.”

New Beginnings international Empowerment and Wellness Specialists

If there's one thing I've learned during my PC experience, it's that living one's truth is the hardest thing in the world one can do, especially when expectations come into play and you don't live up to those expectations. You don't want to let other people down, even when you know you are doing the right thing. Speaking out against the abuse of the students, for example, has been difficult for me because it creates friction, and a part of me wants to turn my head to it because I want to be accepted by the teachers and administration. Before I came here, no matter how I tried not to, I had certain expectations about how my relationships with the people would be. I believe they had expectations of me as well and I think my loved ones back at home had their own expectations. I also had expectations about myself that I haven't lived up to. Being in the PC has shown me that I don't always have control over my life...and when I realized this, I had to keep changing and redefining my role, learn how to be flexible and let go of some expectations I placed on myself. I had to think long and hard about how I would deal with not living up to these expectations and decide if I'd let it destroy me or say to myself, I'm an imperfect human being (and so are those around me) who is doing the best I can. I sometimes make decisions that create positive results and I sometimes make decisions with lesser results. Then, sometimes the decisions I thought lead to disastrous results, in the end, turned out to be not so bad after all. Life is a series of taking chances, one after the other. You hope for the best. Sometimes what you think is the best decision in the world ends up not so good. The only thing you can do is get back up and move forward. Kay serah serah.

I confess that when my oldest brother decided to get married, I made judgments about his decision based on what I believed was his truth. Before he met his wife, he talked about what direction his life would go: Retiring early, driving his motorcycle and traveling around the country in a Winnebago. But then someone unexpectedly stepped into his life and everything changed. He met his wife and decided he wanted to go down a different path. What I believed was someone not being loyal to himself was really someone who had something unexpected happen and he then had to reevaluate how he wanted the direction of his life to go. He made a choice and probably pines for that Winnebago at times, but if he made the alternative choice he’d be pining after that woman he lost for the rest of his days. We can’t have it all, so we make our choices based on what we believe we can live with. Sometimes the universe drops these unexpected surprises into our lives making us reevaluate what we thought we wanted for ourselves and changes what we thought our truth was. What I’ve learned is that we should all respect each others decisions, whether we believe they are right or wrong, because as adults, we all have the right to change our minds and choose our own path.

What I've tried to do over the last 10 years, is open myself up to the genius at work in the universe. The last prayer I said, years ago was, I'm putting my life in your hands (speaking to the universe), just guide me in the direction that I should go and I'll do my best to follow. As I said this, I knew it wouldn't be the easier road; living this way takes a tremendous amount of trust. You have to let go of any feelings of control and are sometimes guided in a direction that doesn't seem to make any sense or be very practical... but I believe the universe is much wiser than myself and can make things happen even when things seem bleak or impossible.

As a former PCV once said, “PC changes you, but not in ways you would expect.”

For whatever reason, I felt a call to serve in the Peace Corps. It has taken me down a very difficult path. A path that has had its ups and downs and many learning experiences...more than I’ve ever imagined. Some people ask, 'Do you regret joining the Peace Corps,' and I've thought about it a lot. My answer is: No. If I never joined the PC, I would always have this thought hanging over my head that there was this thing I wanted to do during my lifetime that I never did. I would never have met the strongest women I know: My friends, Kate, Molly, Nicole and Andrea. I would never have met Hope (Tshegofelo), the wisest 15 year old girl who taught me how to persevere with grace in the most difficult of situations. I would have never understood the complexity of the most dreaded virus on the planet: HIV/AIDS and that we cannot make judgments about how we can stop the spread until we’ve walked in the shoes of those living in the inflicted countries. I would have never understood that the biggest driving force behind disease, violence and human suffering is poverty and how important it is to free MYSELF from it. And lastly, I would have never met the man who captured my heart after 10 years of believing love was just not meant for me...the man who inspired me to take yet another chance and marry him before I leave this incredible continent....... with all of its pains, joys, sorrows, frustrations and miracles......Africa.

“Buy pop corn. Sometimes I'm not hungry but just feel like putting large quantities of anything in my mouth.” ~ Fellow PCV responding to request for help to control my sugar binges.

The month of July was full of surprises. It's probably best if I don't get into too many details about the plethora of health issues I suffered on a public website......... but let's just say, hospitalization and a week at the Kgale View Lodge was required. In honor of my new found decision to find more positives and stop griping so much, I will describe the parts of having my bladder drained overnight that I actually enjoyed.

I have to admit that it was, in some ways, worth all the agony I suffered: I had a warm hospital room with a heater that I could control, TV, remote with a delightful selection of movies, a buzzer that I could use to call a nurse to check on me anytime I wanted...and... oh yes... I used that sucker. There was a bathroom with flush toilet, sink and shower with hot water...ahhh!

The next day was followed by a week at the Kgale View Lodge, per order of the doctor, God bless his soul. There was no doubt that I was sick enough to earn this week of pampering, but again, it was almost worth the suffering. There's nothing like using a pit latrine for a year to really make you appreciate the basic essentials of life.

So the sickness is over, I've survived and have moved forward to the close of the term. And with that came a magical thing....our School Head did something that he's never done before: Sat with the entire student body alone. Just himself and them and advised them to be free to tell him anything about each topic he had outlined: Academic and food issues were the first on the list. The following day he proudly told me about it and said, lots of things that were brought up were things I had up on the school library bulletin board (which, in the past, he was not too keen on having posted). He said issues that were in the reports I had given him came up, which gave me a sense of his approval and understanding about what I've been doing. For the first time, I had a sense of having made a positive contribution (regarding behavior change and improved communication). It's amazing how one single little moment can be worth all of the hell suffered to get to that point.

Loving What Is

Limiting belief: It's horrible when things are not the way I want them to be.

Empowering alternative: It can be disappointing or inconvenient when things aren't the way I want them to be, but it's not that bad. I can work to change or improve unpleasant conditions & if it's not possible, I can temporarily accept their existence.

Limiting belief: Certain acts are awful or wicked and people who perform such acts should be severely punished.

Empowering alternative: Certain acts are unskillful, inappropriate, or anti-social, and people who perform them are behaving ineffectively, ignorantly or neurotically & would benefit from intervention.

~ Thanks, bratha Tom

“Nonresistance is the key to the greatest power in the universe. Inner nonresistance to whatever is or happens is a denial of the absolute reality of form. The more reactive you are the more entangled you become with whatever is or happens (form). Become friendly with the present moment no matter in what disguise it comes. The decision to make the present moment into your friend is the end of the ego. Time is what the ego lives on. The stronger the ego, the more time takes over your life. Almost every thought you think is then concerned with past or future and your sense of self depends on the past for your identity and the future for its fulfillment. Fear, anxiety, expectation, regret, guilt, anger are the dysfunctions of the time-bound state of consciousness.[...]

[...]Even if blame seems more than justified, as long as you blame others, you keep feeding the pain-body with your thoughts and remain trapped in your ego. There is only one perpetrator of evil on the planet: human unconsciousness. That realization is true forgiveness. With forgiveness, your victim identity dissolves, and your true power emerges-- the power of presence. Instead of blaming the darkness, you bring in the light.”

~Thank you, Ekhort Tolle

Something major happened one Friday. A light went off. A bell rang. I reached the end of my rope (as my mom would say). I mentally gave up and decided a major change had to occur if I were to continue this job.... Just after greeting me, the School Head, began explaining how I 'should have' spoken up during the top managers meeting, a meeting I was invited to join by the Senior Teacher Librarian. A meeting that I'm not required to attend and I may not have even been wanted there for all I knew. I didn't know anything about it because prior to, I had taken 3 days leave. I only went because the Senior Teacher Library thought it would help me 'smooth things over' with the headmaster if I went. I had classes to teach, but I agreed to come and go to the meeting in between teaching classes—something else that is not in my job description. I really had no idea if the Headmaster really wanted me there or not, much less contribute my input. I asked if the meeting would be conducted in English and the answer was yes, but even when things are conducted in English, Setswana and English are always mixed, which makes it difficult to really understand what is going on. I don't think the Batswana recognize this, and they expect you to be following along. It was a long day. I sat through parts of the meeting in between running back and forth teaching 4 classes, walked home and came back at 4:00 to work with the PACT Club, which no teacher has committed to facilitating. This particular week I had a major success with a social marketing organization, Population Services International. They finally handed me the grant that I've been working on since 2008. They awarded us P4000 to purchase art supplies for a Life Skills mural project with a theme regarding Multiple Concurrent Partnerships and to promote monogamy, the major social marketing campaign going on here in Botswana. I thought I would have been feeling really good, but by this time, I have learned that most everything I do is not quite good enough. So when the headmaster began questioning me about not speaking up during the top managers meeting, something inside me clicked. You know that feeling while in a bad relationship and something happens...it may even be something relatively insignificant…but something inside you says...That's it! I'm done! All day long I carried a dark feeling inside of me and saw very clearly that I've been in an abusive situation and it was time for a major change. I called my PCMO and began telling her how miserable I was and that I need to redefine my PC duties. “I want to get out of the school,” I said, “and do community work exclusively, life is too short to be so miserable.” Then, the following Sunday morning, for the first time in Botswana, I went to a Catholic church service. I had met the priests last week and really liked them. They were warm, kind and worldly people. One was from Kenya and the other a Motswana who had traveled all over the world. I felt instantly at peace and thought that this may be a new community I could connect with. I promised to attend mass on Sunday, and so I did. During the church service, I looked around at the Stations of the Cross and studied them closely. There were pictures of Jesus being ridiculed and pointed at. There he was again, hanging on the cross after being brutally tortured and it occurred to me that peacemakers have always withstood anger, violence and opposition. It just goes with the territory (I'm not the Beatles comparing myself with Jesus). I just realized that anyone who has ever worked trying to produce change has not had it easy. Further, I came here because I wanted to challenge myself. I thought about my students who walk to school every morning in the cold, without coats, hats or gloves, some sleep on the floor because they don’t have beds. As they arrive at school, shivering from the cold, sometimes they are hit across the hands with sticks. I thought about how I tell them to never give up and what kind of message it would send if I just stopped coming to the school. I also thought about how they are in this for the long haul and my commitment is now less than a year. How could I just walk away from them? I think it’s important to listen to your gut when it’s telling you that something is wrong, that you’re in a bad or abusive situation. Those feelings are there to warn you that something needs to change. So I’ve decided to stay at the school but set clear boundaries regarding what I’m willing to do and what I’m not willing to do. Avoidance is the way I will deal with abusive people, at least as much as possible. knowing that I have the ability to set these boundaries has provided me with a feeling of empowerment. I will stop focusing so much on the negatives, by taking notes of the positive things that happen because there ARE many positive things that go on every day... and I will begin to write about them more often.

If we can begin to look at the dark emotions

that frighten us, that seem out of control, like

anger and rage; if we can see them as beautiful

spiritual graces sent to propel us from a situation

we should not be in, sent to give us the physical

power to set boundaries, to give us the voice to say,

“enough, enough, enough,” then they’re not dark at all.

To the contrary, they are valuable light bringers.

~Anna Quindlen

“If well thou hast begun,

go on, it is the end that crowns you, not the fight.” An sms sent by

Thubalethu Mnyama,

Zimbabwean/

soccer player According to our cycle of vulnerability chart, that the PC gave us, we are experiencing mid-service crisis. But my question to them is.... when aren't we experiencing crisis and what is so special about mid-service crisis in particular? Throughout my service I've often wondered if this experience is actually a healthy one that will help me to grow into a stronger, confident more well-adjusted person. The answer I give myself time and time again is—probably not! Yesterday, I had a conversation with a fellow PCV and we were discussing just that...she said, “I don't think I'm going to look back on these years with fond memories. It's a demoralizing experience” ...My thoughts exactly. Yesterday was yet, one more day, that I sat while being ridiculed, chastised, and questioned about my credentials. They are good at breaking spirits around here. There's little job satisfaction or positive feedback. Even the way questions are asked seem to have an accusatory message connected to them, such as, “Don't you have a pen I can borrow? Or Don't you have a tissue for that girl?”Nicole says that it is just the way it is being translated from Setswana that makes it sound like that, but I can't help but feel they are accusing me of trying to hide something or keep things from them. During my conversation with the other PCV, we asked each other...why do we stay? Answer: We both agreed If we went home now and had to live with the fact that we gave up, we would be very disappointed in ourselves and believe this would do more damage to our self- confidence. "Silence in the face of evil is itself evil.

Not to speak is to speak. Not to act is to act." ~ Dietrich Bonhoeffer Last Friday was payday for the teachers and the school head was out on bereavement leave, which meant, many classrooms were left unattended. Yes. That's right. UNATTENDED. Completely 100% unattended and unsupervised for the entire day. Teachers don't think twice about it. Now that I'm teaching classes, there are times when I need to go to Gabs (the capital city) for the day and need to find someone to cover my class. Never once has the teacher who agreed to cover actually followed through. The day started off with a girl being carried to the staffroom by her classmates followed by the class teacher. I asked the teacher what happened, but got no response. This teacher acts particularly cold towards me, so I wasn't surprised. The students continued to carry the girl to where all of the teachers desks are and where there happened to be an old mattress placed against the wall. One student put the mattress down on the floor as the others began to attempt to lay her down. The girl suddenly got a burst of energy and started running around with a crazed look on her face. The students looked scared. I asked the teacher once more, what happened? She reluctantly responded, “she just fell.” As all of this was going on I noticed the stone cold look on the teacher's face, something I come across time and time again-- a lack of sympathy and compassion for the suffering of others; an emotional disconnect, or maybe it's an acceptance of the way things are; a way to cope with the harsh realities of life here in Africa. Last term when I attended the school's athletic events that took place at the stadium, I had volunteered to attend to the injured since I have some experience with athletic injuries. Consequently, I felt very overwhelmed when I realized that every kid who was competing was dehydrated, hungry, lacked proper foot gear and were under -trained to say the least. I was surprised that more didn't fall unconscious or obtain serious injuries. The students were expected to compete against each other in the heat, wearing nothing on their feet as they ran around a blistering hot track as fast as they could. A few kids dropped to the ground reeling in pain, some dropped and were just about unconscious. No one was attending to them! The teachers called upon students to pick the child up and carry him or her off. It made me think about what pansies we are in the U.S. We wouldn't consider going out for a run unless we had our Nike/New Balance/adidas running sneakers with a perfectly matched athletic outfit made of Lycra/Spandex/Coolmax interwoven into the material to ensure ideal body temperature which of course would come in a bold- red hugh and topped off with a matching sun visor. Of course we would be fully hydrated following a sip of a perfectly blended concoction of Poweraid/Gatoraid every 3.5 minutes prior to the event. Yes, indeed. This life has certainly toughened the Batswana, both mentally and physically. The injured children ultimately came back to consciousness and with the support and encouragement of their teachers, continued with their sporting events. There's a part of me that is tremendously jealous of their lackadaisical attitudes and ability to shrug things off. I have also observed the rugged nature of these kids as I watch them walk to school, sometimes for miles, with no jackets, and the girls, wearing short skirts---a required school uniform. In the winter, the girls have the option to wear trousers, but often cannot afford them---wearing skirts during certain months is mandatory—so they opt for the skirt. In the morning, I walk with them to school and look at their bare legs exposed as I'm all bundled up in my winter gear—still feeling cold! Once the students arrive at school, if they are late, they are hit with long sticks as they walk through the gate. The teachers are highly skilled at whipping techniques and take great pride in it---as if—the more highly skilled he or she is, the more respect they obtain by their peers. The school days are long. During the winter months they are expected to be in their classrooms by 7:10am. If they are late going into the classroom, they are hit once again by their class teacher—that is --- provided the class teacher decided to show up. Classes run until 1:30, then “study starts at 2:30 and ends at 4:00, where the students sit in classes which are supervised only by a class monitor (another student) who is responsible for turning other students in for misbehavior. Every student is expected to then participate in (mostly unsupervised) co-curricular activities (ball sports, traditional dance, PACT club, etc), and then walk home while the sun is setting, wake up and do it all over again. Let me emphasize that many students have huge responsibilities at home as well, which include taking care of sick relatives, house chores, completing homework, and are often beaten at home as well for one reason or another.

They laughed at everything about me: my nose, the way I dressed, my use of their language. It was a terrible place for somebody stiffly proud to be American. Sometimes I thought of the Peace Corps as a reverse refugee organization, displacing all those lost Midwesterners, and it was probably the only government entity that taught Americans to abandon key national characteristics. Pride, ambition, impatience, the instinct to control, the desire to accumulate, the missionary impulse- all of it slipped away.” ~ Peter Hessler RPCV 1996-1998

“Why don’t you just go back to America!” the school head shouted, as he threw me out of his office in front of two students I brought in to discuss an issue they had with an exam that was given. That was how last semester came to a close. There are days when I feel nothing I do is right. When I give, it’s never enough or someone gets jealous. When I talk, it’s not the right way. When I eat, I eat too much. When I do what the Ministry instructs, it causes major upheaval in the school. What the Life Skills Volunteers are doing, is introducing new concepts, but sometimes I wonder if we should be the one’s implementing them. Everything is better received from fellow Batswana, rather than a lekgoa, who is only here to ‘change their culture.’

On the upside, all of the math and science teachers attended a workshop over school break, which taught them strategies that I’ve been using ------ and have been criticized for. One teacher I know has responded very positively, and I’m hoping that now, the teachers and administration will have a better understanding of what I’m doing. “You can’t fear unpopularity when trying to produce change,” was advice that was given during our last meeting with the Ministry of Education. Well, if I’ve learned one thing, it’s how to shrug off criticism. Indeed, I have mastered, not caring about what other people think.

I do enjoy the projects I’m involved with outside of the school. One of my favorites is working with the Teen Club every first Saturday of the month, along with other local PCVs and Batswana facilitators:

On April 4, 2009, local Peace Corps Volunteers and HOPE World Wide facilitators gathered at HOPE to meet with the Teen Club, a club that was organized for local HIV + teens. During the meeting, we facilitated activities, played games and served lunch. It's easy to forget that these kids are living with this deadly virus because you can't see it and they look and act like healthy children....but then later, some of the Batswana facilitators instructed them to break up into groups to discuss how they discovered their status. As the other PCVs walked outside, I decided to stay. What I witnessed that day touched me in a way that is hard to describe. How does one explain what it's like to watch innocent children weeping over living with a deadly virus that they contracted through no fault of their own? --A virus that carries with it, a stigma, like no other illness on the face of the planet. All of these kids were born with HIV, because back then, there was no PMTCT (Prevention of Mother to Child Transmission Program) and their parents chose not to disclose their status to them until they were older, consequently making their situation even harder to deal with, as I saw clearly while they sat huddled in their circles quietly crying amongst one another. This was just one more reminder of how utterly unfair life is and how any one of us who goes through life with, at the very least, our health, should feel blessed and grateful for this gift of luck.

“ARVs have come a long way since AIDS was first discovered,” Mma Bontle explained, attempting to lift their spirits. And she was successful. Because the fact is, HIV is not as serious as it once was. The ARVs are like a miracle. People are now living longer, healthier, and able to do everything most HIV – people can do. It is even possible to have children without passing the virus on. So the discussion ended on a happy note as Mma Bontle, who is also living with the virus, cheerfully reminded them that things are not so bad, they can live relatively normal lives and ARVs are not the giant horse pills that had to be taken several times a day that they once were.

“someone once wrote that the old man wants peace and quiet, the middle aged man wants love and respect, but the young wants challenge. So I leave you with a challenge: the challenge of the Peace Corps, the challenge of the war on poverty, the challenge to heed the most eloquent cry of all- the cry of human beings in distress, here in America and across the world.” ~ Robert Sargent Shriver

During the month of March, I booked myself, 'a holiday,' as they call it here in Botswana. I felt it would be good for me to check myself into a chalet at Mokolodi Nature Reserve, sit peacefully for a few days and rest my mind. As I sat in the reception area waiting to check in, I watched all of the white folks come in and out and poke around the gift shop. As I sat watching , I thought to myself, 'White people don't know what suffering is.' Most of the suffering we experience is created within our own minds. Why is it that human beings insist on having to suffer? If you read the book, 28 Stories of AIDS in Africa, and particularly the story about Manuel Cossa, you will understand what I mean. Now this is a guy who knows what suffering is! I'm now sitting here on the deck on my chalet looking out onto the pond in front of of me, where all of the wildlife (birds, rhinos, hippos, ostrich, giraffe, wilder beast and ward hogs) stop by for a drink. It's me!...the white woman from America, who is sitting here enjoying the view, instead of a local Motswana. There are plenty of Batswana who work here, driving the white folks around in safari vehicles and catering to our needs. But the sad reality is: most of the locals cannot afford to enjoy the beauty and luxury which is available in their own country. This whole experience has given me a much deeper understanding of how incredibly unfair life is and just how lucky we 'Lekgoa' are, simply because of the geographic location we happened to have been born.

Miscellaneous Observations:

The thunder and lightening storms in Botswana are incredible forces of nature which usually happen during the night. The heavy downpours and thunder and lightening are something I've never experienced before even in New England. I'm grateful to have taken earplugs with me, otherwise I would never get any sleep during these ferocious storms. It is very cool, though, to look out the window and watch the lightening in the distance and sometimes not so distance. The rainy season seems to be tapering down as we're slowly creeping into winter. Winter means cold evenings and mornings until the sun warms the air and it can reach into the low 90s F by the afternoon.

The sky in general in Botswana is particularly beautiful. The cloud formations are exquisite (and even expressed as such in my Botswana cultural handbook). The evening sky is full of stars and the sight of the Milky Way is enough to make you fall over in awe. The sun is hot, blazing and unforgiving. It will truly be a miracle if I don't come home with skin cancer! Of course, it doesn't help that I go to the Lemepe Lodge pool to bronze myself from time to time...vanity is a terrible, terrible thing, something I inherited directly from my mother, Julia.

Donkies (doinky)- there are many donkies wandering around the streets of Molepolole. The poor things are the most pathetic creatures you've ever laid your eyes on. They're beat up and miserable looking, and just stand there- motionless. Sometimes their front legs are shackled together to prevent them from wandering off too far. One day I saw two adult donkies looking down on a baby who was lying on the ground in the hot sun. It was a sad sight. These poor donkies have no where else to go but to bake in the hot sun.

There are many qualities about the African people that I find endearing. One of these qualities is that quite often, and especially in text messages, they send you off with some sort of blessing. For example, my friend, Julius sent me a nice message just as I was falling asleep that read, “ May God keep on showering you with His blessings dear.” Although I'm not the most religious person in the world, receiving these messages feels very warm and fuzzy.

While I was living with my host brother, he found my list of Fundamental Reframes and carefully and slowly read them aloud to me and then programed them into his phone:See every problem as an opportunity

See every difficulty as a challenge

See every obstacle as a stepping stone

See every failure as a lesson

See every setback as an opening

See every end as a new beginning

See every enemy as a teacher

See every crisis as a test

Julius, who is from Kenya, took the time to read the notes from the neighbor kids that are hung on my walls. It was a sweet moment.

“ I love you Masa. You are my best friend I will enjoy training with you everytime when you go training at Motswasele. I know that you love people very much, I want you to know that my friends are Lizzy, Goitsemang, Charity, Kegomoditswe and you Masa

I did saw that you are good at running and I enjoyed it very much I will never forget you in my life and I hope that you will not forget me too.

I love you Masa very much

Your friend

Lavih (pronounced Lovey)

I have to say, with all of the difficulties and challenges I'm facing, I'm experiencing an equal amount of satisfaction, love and joy. Such is life!

You can gain strength, courage and confidence by every experience in which you really stop to look fear in the face. Do the thing you think you cannot do.

~Elenor Roosevelt

As I walk along the dusty, dirt path in the blazing hot sun on my way to Oratele's ( Kate's) school, I notice myself talking and even laughing out loud. I stop myself and realize that I'm developing Schizophrenic-like behaviors. I think it is due to the combination of the sun beating down upon me, the incredible amount of responsibility that the Ministry has dumped on my lap and the shear culture shock and aloneness that I experience on a daily basis. Although I'm around people all the time, loneliness is a reality. The loneliness of being in a culture apart from my own—where the people I encounter are usually speaking another language. Attitudes and beliefs are different and I sometimes feel I cannot relate to anyone. I have never in my life had so many men hitting on me and asking for my number, but it's not ME they are after or desire, it's the idea of 'lekgoa.' I may be something they could brag about to their friends, bring them to America or maybe it's that they think I'll be sexually uninhibited like the American woman they see on TV. Living in another country has given me a very clear picture of how the television portrays American's. Everyone thinks American women are rare'n to go and sexually free. When I go into Gabs, I visit my favorite coffee shop called Mug and Bean. They often have the TV on with American videos playing. As I watch the female singers in the music videos, I just say to myself, “No wonder they think we're loose.” The TV is the only exposure they have of American's, and they believe this is what we are about and who we are. Many Batswana are big fans of American soap operas—which reinforces the belief that we are sex crazed maniacs!

Deep restful sleep is only a distant memory. Facing my fears head on is a daily ritual and overcoming obstacles and barriers is an ongoing process, as it's becoming more apparent to me that I need to start standing up to the teachers and school administration. The more time I spend at the school, the more I realize that corporal punishment is being used in excess and these kids are being abused. I've made the decision that being on the teachers and administration's 'good side' cannot be my top priority, but rather, the well being of the students. This experience is certainly teaching me how to be tough and how to put an invisible shield around myself. I have to walk into school and not care if I'm not liked. One of the best pieces of advice I received from a Motswana was, “ You have to take that heart out of your chest and replace it with a stone.” She was absolutely right, and I've come to realize that I need to apply this advice to all types of relationships. All of this is also helping me overcome my fear of public speaking, which has been the biggest challenge of my life. When I left America, a voice inside my head kept saying, “you're going to find your voice in Africa,”and it's actually finally starting to happen!

As I'm strengthening my own personal characteristics and weaknesses, I'm also working on some other projects. There's never a dull moment!

A list of projects that I'm working on as a Life Skills Coordinator:

Teen Club:

Botswana Baylor Clinic of Excellence created a teen club for HIV+ kids ages, 13-19. The Teen Club is a place where HIV+ children can go once a month and socialize with their peers. The Peace Corps volunteers of Molelpole are helping a local NGO, Hope World Wide, organize a new chapter in Molepolole. We have meetings during the week to organize activities for the kids. The Teen Club meets once a month at HWW and from there we may go to the local pool, play games, do art project or go on field trips to places like Mokalodi Nature reserve.

WAR- Women and Men Against Rape:

Local Peace Corps Volunteers are working together to start a WAR Chapter here in Moleps. I've decided to hop on board and assist in getting this started and attended my first meeting on Feb 15th.

Linking local organizations to my school:

One of my major tasks is to link local organizations to my school. I do a lot of running around and meet with people who I think may help deal with the issues that are plaguing the school. One of the ways I identify the needs of the school is by keeping a question and answer box in the school library so that the students can drop anonymous questions and concerns into the box. I also passed out evaluation forms to the teachers and students. My hope is to provide a box for the teachers as well, but these things must be dealt with very delicately and at the right time, otherwise I experience quite a bit of resistance. I take the questions, comments and evaluation results to the individuals who will be running workshops and so forth at our school, so that they can get a better idea of our school's unique needs. I can't explain what incredible tools these have been to identify the problems and to get inside the minds and hearts of the students.

Sometimes grants are needed to pay for workshops, so I've been getting some experience with grant writing as well. To make this a sustainable project, though, I'm going to start including the school staff to assist me with writing these grants.

Life Skills Curriculum:

Another major task of mine is to encourage teachers in my school and my 11 cluster schools to incorporate the Life Skills curriculum into their classes. I do this by going into classes and teaching an example Life Skills lesson. The point of this is to teach the teachers how to do this, but the problem I'm facing is, teachers are looking at this as a time to escape and let Masa teach while they take a break. Nothing seems to go the way I planned. I've decided that my goal for my cluster schools is to, at least, make sure they all have the books by the time I leave in 2010.

Teaching Guidance and Counseling Classes

This month I find myself teaching Guidance and Counseling classes, something Life Skills Volunteers are not supposed to do. We are not, by definition, 'teachers.'I am not a teacher and have never been trained as a teacher. But here I am....now working as a teacher! I have to admit....I really like it so far. Here's my dilemma: Do I leave these kids sitting in an unsupervised class for 40 minutes or do I take it and do the best I can. I chose the later and am doing a heck of a great job if I do say so myself! We'll see how it goes after the kids get really comfortable with me and realize, 'Masa won't hit us with a stick so we may be able to get away with things we can't get away with in other classes.' Only time will tell. This shall be an interesting year!

My two secondary projects:

Two secondary projects I've been kicking around in my head are: working with local Batswana to identify a grant to pay for exercise equipment for the local stadium. We will have to link the project to reducing the spread of AIDS, but I believe it is an easy justification.

Bo Nkgonne Mentoring Program- One of the organizations I really want to bring to Molepolole before the end of my service is the Bo Nkgonne Mentoring organization here in Molepolole. Due to the HIV/AIDS pandemic, there are many orphans here in Botswana who have a great need for a mentor. Because Moleps has a college and nursing program that runs out of the hospital, I believe it is an ideal place to identify them.

So there you have it, that's what I've been doing with all of my time.

“We discover in others what others hide from us,

and we recognize in others what we hide from ourselves.”

~VauvenarguesAs I stand looking out at the incredible sunset, a part of me wants to run into the house and fetch my camera so that I can hold onto it for the rest of my life. But the other part of me knows nothing lasts forever. There have been many times in my life when I've found something that I never wanted to let go of: a person, a moment, an experience, a piece of chocolate. But life does not allow this, and everything comes to an end sooner or later. This is a big lesson we all eventually learn and we can see it as either a tragedy or we can be thankful for those little pockets of happiness and look forward to a future of endless possibilities.

Like everyone, I have suffered loss, but I've also had moments of joy. As I contemplate life, I realize it's a series of gaining new experiences and relationships and letting them go. It's up to us to decide if we are going to do this with grace and dignity or with resistance and control. As I think about my past, I can see that I've spent a tremendous amount of energy trying to control relationships and events in my life, usually creating disastrous results and pushing people even further away. This, I realize, was a byproduct of fear; fear of being alone, fear of not being loved and generally, fear of rejection.

Tumisang, an orphan neighbor girl of mine, has played a role in helping me see this more clearly . She comes over to my house quite frequently, usually at the most inopportune time and looks at me longingly, with love starved eyes. As I look back at her, it scares me because I see myself- that part of myself that I don't want to acknowledge-that part of myself that has used guilt to try to make other people stay with me when I knew they didn't really want to, that part of myself that other people could see, when I didn't know they could. I know that I should be more compassionate towards her, but I want to push her away, for she reminds me of how I use my own pain and fear to manipulate others. Perhaps this too is why people have pushed me away so abruptly.

On the other hand, I can also see that it has been all of the hard, painful and difficult situations that has given me the strength that I have today. As I look back over the last 10 years, I can see that my pain is what drove me to accomplish the things I have: getting through college, running marathons, competing in triathlons, long distance biking and now getting through Peace Corps. There will never come a time in life when pain will come to an end, as I think about this, I can see it is more productive to use the pain to be driven in a positive direction.

Pain can be an incredible driving force when used as an ally and can be used to accomplish many things never thought possible. The stronger the pain, the more motivation I have. “Problems are the price of progress. Don't give me anything but trouble. Good news only weakens me!”

Pain is the fuel that burns my fire.

When I use my pain as my ally, anything is possible.

They say that while going through your Peace Corps experience, it will be more about learning about yourself than helping others. I can now understand and appreciate this. I am learning a lot about myself, including the fact that I am much stronger than I ever gave myself credit for. I am learning that I AM NOT WEAK...... FOR I AM STRONG!!! And this is going to make all the difference in the world!

Is sex love or love sex?

~ Question posed by student at Motswasele Junior Secondary schoolI haven't really gotten much into the HIV/AIDS issue, which is very complicated indeed. Before I came over to Botswana, while reading about the HIV statistics and contemplating whether I was going to take the assignment, it was certainly a great concern. Botswana has the second highest HIV/AIDS prevalence rate in the world, second to Swaziland, another southern African nation. HIV/AIDS was never something I researched much and was never a great concern of mine, although, I always knew it was something I didn't want to contract. While discussing the possibility of taking the assignment with people at home, many seemed to have this notion that it would be risky for me to come here. It was almost as if they were thinking AIDS was floating around in the air and I may somehow contract it by breathing it in. Of course, we all know that AIDS is spread through 2 avenues: blood,semen, vaginal fluids and breast milk. I knew I wouldn't be working in a health clinic and have proven to myself that I'm fairly good at practicing abstinence when I make up my mind, so where was the risk, I thought.

While working in health and recreational facilities at home in the U.S., my major concern was preventing cardiovascular disease and my biggest headache was trying to get people to eat the recommended amount of fruits and vegetables. Now, here I am: smack dab in the middle of an HIV/AIDS pandemic! It has certainly forced me to take a good hard look at all of the very complicated issues related to the virus itself including my own behavior and interpersonal relationships with men. During our first few months at our sites, the Peace Corps required us to do a Needs Assessment. During this time, I decided to take an inventory of what I believed were the underlying issues contributing to the HIV/AIDS pandemic. Here's my list: Corporal punishmentPayment for brides (labola) Lack of positive feedbackLack of encouragement to speak up/discouragement from speaking out, asking questions and having personal opinions, discouragement from thinking creatively and uniquely Students feel that some teachers are non-approachable, creating students who are fearful to ask questions and seek extra helpShame/stigma associated with HIV/AIDS discourages people from seeking medical attentionl Cultural beliefs, myths, traditional doctors and medicines Denial that homosexuality exists in Botswana Lack of education, high truancy rate, students weak in English while tests are conducted in English.The grading system in the schools does not promote motivation with the students to improve grades/Grades should not depend solely on tests.l Sexual abuse of children (especially in the schools between teachers and students)Alcoholism (teacher's alcoholism should also be addressed)Boredom- lack of recreational facilities in villages and too many barsOutdated information taught to Guidance and Counselling teachers by the Ministry of Education, i.e. shy children should not attend group counselling Inaccurate information taught to students. Fear tactics and myths used to scare children into not having sexMore science and biology classes needed

Fairly judgmental, critical and pompous with a dash of truth. But in my defense, we were very much pressured into taking inventory of the culture as soon as we stepped foot on the African soil. I still believe that all of these issues are indirectly contributing to the problem, but there is one issue I left out that I now understand is the major contributing factor of the pandemic: multiple-concurrent partnerships. Which simply means, many folks around here have more than one sexual partner at a time which makes the virus spread much more quickly because the viral load is at its highest when a person is newly infected. Americans tend to have more sexual partners within their lifetime than people here, but the difference is, Americans tend to practice serial monogamy, going with one person for a long time, breaking up, and moving on to the next. From what I understand, the AIDS virus does not spread that quickly and easily, but this one factor is making all of the difference to the Batswana. The sad part about this whole big pile of donkey dung is that there really is no need of all of this and from what I have read about the reasons behind this type of behavior is that it serves to build egos and acts as revenge against the perpetrator and also serves to cushion the blow after a betrayal. In other words, men esteem themselves by showing their peers just how 'manly' they are by having more than one girlfriend (I guess this goes in conjunction with the bowl size and not using utensils which I spoke about in an earlier entry). Apparently, men and boys receive lots of pressure to have multiple relationships with women, even starting at a young age! The women and girls find solace in seeking comfort from another guy.............and so it goes on............these are the days of our lives! Don't take this as an out and out reckless, nuclear attack against the Batswana. This information is coming straight from a woman who found 10 pages of phone calls made to other women on her husband's cell phone bill (who happens to live in the US).

I just get deeply disturbed and saddened when I learn about the pathetic nature of the human condition in general. If it's not one thing, it's another! We (myself included) are all so needy, emotionally illiterate and so completely and utterly clueless about how to give & receive love that we create these living nightmares for ourselves. I can unfortunately say with all honesty that in my (almost) 40 years of existence and most of them dealing with relationships with that of the opposite sex, I still have NOT ONE CLUE how to find, have and maintain a decent, healthy relationship. Nor do I have the slightest clue as to how to deal with the pain that follows 'taking a chance.' And yes, I can understand the desire to want to console oneself following the disappointment of another. As pathetic and romantic as this may sound, there truly is no hurt like the hurt by the person with whom you let your guard down, exposed your most intimate self, 'took the chance'........... and lost. So in the same breath that I discuss the dysfunctional reasons why Botswana are suffering from this horrible virus that is scourging through 30% (and in some areas higher) of the population, I humbly admit that I have no idea how to fix this nor my own fear-driven, emotionally- starved, neurotically-based, ego-centered sexual relationships.

“Never are we nearer to the light than when the darkest and deepest.”

~Vivekananda

“You've opened my heart..........” was written in a letter from my Niece, Lindsey, to her Motswana pen pal, Hope (Tsholofelo). I can certainly relate to how Lindsey feels. I spent many years building up walls, creating my own very private life, getting upset at anyone who tried to 'intrude' on my world and only letting a few chosen people in (only those who wouldn't disrupt my routine or interfere with my privacy). But it's not just the Batswana who have helped tear down those walls, but the whole Peace Corps experience. Going through such intense training with a bunch of strangers gave us no choice but to expose our vulnerability. We saw the best and worst of each other and in the end, remained friends. It took an incredible amount of trust to get through training. Then, moving into our villages, some of us living on family compounds, stripped us once again of every ounce of privacy (and what felt like, dignity). I had to surrender and be ok with everyone knowing everything I was doing every minute of the day. I had to surrender to constantly answering questions such as, “where are you going? Where are you coming from? What were you doing?"But something strange is starting to happen...

I don't mind having people around me all the time. I'm even enjoying the kids and have them come inside to color and do arts and crafts. I don't get defensive anymore when people ask me personal questions and my little house on the family compound is really starting to feel like home. My tolerance threshhold is widening. How could this be? I'm even starting to like the pit latrine! It's nice to walk outside in the morning and look up at the sky. I don't mind going outside to go into the kitchen, in fact, I leave all my doors open most of the time, living half inside and half outside. I'm intrigued with the Setswana language and have even been putting more effort into learning new phrases! I love some of the mannerisms, phrases, gestures and quirky sayings they use. I feel there has been a major shift within me and that my heart too has been opened.

Dedicated to my Niece, Lindsey

The Botswana School System My niece, Lindsey, who is writing for her school newspaper, requested information regarding the Botswana school system. It makes me very proud to know that she is sharing this information with her school because she is helping me fulfill the Peace Corps third goal to help promote a better understanding of other people on the part of Americans.

My dear Lindsey, this is how the Botswana school system is organized:

Primary School (similar to elementary school in the U.S.)

* Consists of standards 1-7 (grades 1-7)

* Ages typically range from 6-13

* Students remain with the same class teacher and classroom throughout the day. Classes consist of math, science, English, Setswana, guidance and counseling, agriculture, social studies, creative and performing arts, religious and moral education* In standard seven, the students must sit for an exam to progress to Junior Secondary school. There is no minimum grade requirement to pass, but students must take the exam to be admitted to the next level.

Junior Secondary School (similar to middle school in the U.S.)

*Consists of forms 1-3

*Ages typically range from 13-20. The ages of the students in each form range considerably because of the HIV pandemic. Most of the children have been affected by the virus either directly or indirectly, thus delaying their education.

*Students have a class teacher who they report to before assembly then have different teachers throughout the day who teach specific subjects, such as math, science, moral education, and have optional subjects such as physical education, religious education, home economics, design technology, business studies and art

* There is a problem with students starting to drop out because of pregnancies

*Students must take an entrance exam and pass with an A or B to get into Senior Secondary School. Some students can progress with Cs, depending on how many openings there are at the school.

Senior Secondary School (Similar to high school in the U.S.)

* Consists of forms 4 and 5

*Students start focused classes such as algebra and biology

* Some private schools require form 6 to progress to vocational school, a university or to go to school internationally.

* In form 5, there is a general certificate exam to progress to the university

* Some students go from form 5 to a tertiary school to learn a trade such as: agriculture, painting and decorating, heavy plant mechanics, bricklaying & plastering, building construction, welding and fabrication, auto electrician, auto mechanics, travel and tourism, hairdressing, hospitality operations, clothing design and textile, electrical & mechanical engineering, beauty therapy, panel beating and spray painting, carpentry & joinery.

* Other students progress to the University. A bachelor's degree at the University of Botswana takes 4 years. The first two years consists of general studies and the second two years the student studies one or two major subjects. Students can then move on to a Master's degree and PhD.

General Information:

*All students in Primary, Junior Secondary and Senior Secondary schools are responsible for general cleaning duties. These duties include cleaning the inside and grounds of the school including bathroom facilities. The students also polish the floors by hand using a waxy floor polish.

* Teachers discipline students by hitting them with long, thin sticks. The Ministry of Education has specific guidelines that should be followed regarding the length and width of the stick and limits on which areas of the body and how many times the student can be hit, but from my observation and reports from students, these guidelines are rarely followed. Just to give an idea of how much it hurts, I got hit once in the hand and for a while, thought my thumb may have been broken. I didn't feel quite right for the rest of the day and had a headache. Sometimes students are hit up to five lashes several times a day. It seems as though the teachers hit as hard as they possibly can. I imagine this makes learning difficult and may be contributing to the high failure rate amongst the students. Parents support the use of corporal punishment and administer it themselves.

* It appears that what is considered late is ambiguous: I've watched students coming into the entrance gate at the school sometimes hit at certain times while other times not hit at that same time. Thus, it seems the students don't really know what to expect.

A Typical Day at Motswasele JSS

6:00 Rising Bell

6:50 Warning Bell

7:00-7:10 Registration- Students report to their 'Base room' where attendance is taken. The are assigned to this classroom all year with the same teachers. A class monitor is in charge of taking the teacher's attendance and keeps a record in a small blue book.

7:10-7:20- Assembly is held on Mon, Wed and Fri. where announcements are made, achievements are recognized, lectures on good behavior are given and students are scolded for misbehaving. The day is always started with a song and a prayer. So far, I've witnessed two public beatings during school assembly administered by the school head. ( A student is taken up in front of the entire assembly and is beaten in front of the whole school.) The first time I witnessed this, it felt surreal, and like I had stepped back in time.

7:20-8:00- First Period

8:00-8:40- Second Period

8:40-8:45- Short Break

8:45-9:25- Third Period

9:25-10:05-Forth Period

10:05-10:30- Tea Break includes one piece of bread or soft porridge (depending on the day)

10:35-11:15- Fifth Period

11:15-11:55- Sixth Period

11:55- 12:00- Short Break

12:00-12:40-Seventh Period

12:40-1:20- Eighth Period

1:20-2:30- Lunch- Students stand in long lines holding bowls that they brought from home. On Mon and Wed they have maize meal (like a starchy porridge), soup and one piece of meat. Tuesday they have Samp & Beans, Fridays they have rice, chicken, soup and a cabbage salad, Saturdays is a study day and no lunch is served. FYI: some students don't have utensils and instead use their hands to eat. I was told by one girl that boys feel that it is more 'manly' to use their hands. She also told me that boys relate their bowl size to their manhood, the bigger the bowl, the better! (maybe Freud WAS right!).

2:30-4:00- Study. Students are left in classrooms on their own to 'study,' only being watched by a class monitor who is just another student who has the responsibility of turning the other students in when they break the rules.

4:00-5:30- co-curricular activities. Clubs such as PACT, emotional support group, volley ball, cultural dance and other various clubs meet.

*The only source of food for many students is what they are served in school. I witnessed the consequences of hunger one day when I served the students their lunch. By the end of the line, the students started charging at the bowls of food and I saw the desperation in their faces.

Better the Pain than to Remain the Same

Sometimes emotions hit us when we least expect it. That's what happened to me today, the last day of school (Nov 28, 2008) for the term. I planned to go in for assembly, attend a short briefing and go home to prepare for the Youth Forum. But something unexpected happened just before I was about to leave: One of the student's who attends the emotional support group was standing in the entrance of the staff room looking forlorn, holding a bag of hand-me-down clothes that my counter part had given him. I asked him why he wasn't happy that it was the last day of school and he replied, “I don't know if I'll be able to eat and there's no water at my house.” I believe this is the driving force that motivates a lot of the students to keep coming to school. I had no idea what to say to him. I just told him that it was a tough situation to be in and he was welcome to come visit me anytime he wanted. After he walked away, tears came to me uncontrollably. I tried to pull myself together, but they flowed anyway. Later, another girl told me that he gets beaten a lot by his parents.

I HAVE NO PROBLEMS.

It is moments like these that make me feel like the most selfish asshole on the face of the planet. How could I ever complain or feel bad for myself while others are living under such conditions?

I recently had a conversation with a woman who works in the storage office. She used to be involved in politics and knows the system pretty well. She reminded me that the Botswana government takes care of the poor by providing them with food baskets. Although, she explained, many families who receive food baskets, sell them to get money for alcohol and let their kids go hungry. I think that many of the teachers don't believe the students are hungry, but hunger is a reality. I was told by another teacher that about 60% of the students have no parents at home because they are either deceased or working at 'the lands,'where they do their farming.

From what I can see, the children of Botswana are raising themselves. Even in school, they are left alone half the day during 'study.'only being watched by the class monitor, another classmate who is assigned to report any bad behavior (you can imagine how this must alienate the student responsible for reporting the other students). Here is a question I received in the Q& A box that I keep in the library:

"As a student at Motswasele I have found that if a teacher can choose you to be the leader like monitor/ monitress student they start rumours or being jealous talking about your self. These can make oneself to be isolated or being afraid of them so my question is how can I live with them? Should I always thinking that I'm going to school and I'm going to my classmates who I hate them. Some of them now they have not change their manners.”

The students hold more responsibility than kids that age should. They are responsible for cleaning the school and then go home to take care of household chores and younger siblings. I found out yesterday that it was a student who found my house after the woman on the school housing committee posted a flyer stating they were looking for a house for an American.

“Emotions are like waves.

Watch them come and go on the vast ocean of existence.” Proverb

November has been a much easier month to get through. I think I'm just starting to figure things out. It just shows that sometimes one has to ride out the waves to make it through challenging situations. I sometimes compare getting through Peace Corps to getting through a marathon. I've run two, and completing them taught me a lot about perseverance. I remember during my training runs (sometimes 15 or 20 miles on a Sunday morning), how I would fight with myself inside my head, “Why are you doing this? This is a waste of time! Nope, I'm not going any further, that's it, I'm stopping!” Then I'd slow down a little and think about how disappointed in myself I’d be if I gave up... and I'd continue to run. The greatest thrill while crossing the finish line for me was knowing that I overcame all of that self-inflicted adversity; overcoming that voice inside my head that said, “just give it up.”I imagine I'll have the same feeling when I complete my 27 month stint with the Peace Corps. There have been many, many moments when I wanted to give up and I'm sure there will be more.

I've decided to take a lighthearted approach to the issues that I'm facing in the school. After all, I can’t come into a school and start dictating how I think things should be handled. If I do, I will surely alienate myself and not accomplish anything. So I go into school with a light-hearted attitude and things seem to be going smoothly. It really IS all about MY attitude and waiting for the right timing.

My first term at the school is over and we'll be on break for the month of December. I've organized two successful events, one with the Ministry of Education and the other with the PACT club, House of Men theater group and Hope World Wide. My goal is to create a permanent relationship between the organizations and the school, so I make sure to include the teachers in planning these events. It's also a great way to build trust with the teachers.

Per request of my niece Lindsey, who is writing for her school newspaper (she's 9!)[1], my next blog entry will be about the Botswana school system. Stay tuned for that interesting fact-filled entry!

[1] What the heck! She's only 9! I didn't write for a school newspaper until Middlesex Community College and I was 30!!! Her writing will probably be better quality too!

Halleluyah! Halleluyah! Halleluyah! My faith in mankind has been restored! Halleluyah! Halleluyah! Halleluyah! The message I got at 3am: Obama is WAY ahead, They havent called it then this appeared: E. dole defeated in s carolina, looks like dems are going to control congress and the w house! Then this appeared: OBAMA WON!

"The depth of darkness to which you can

descend and still live is an

exact measure of the height to which

you can aspire to reach.”

~ Lauren Van der Post

One Sunday morning, everything hit me hard and I was stricken with a paralyzing depression. The day started out as usual, even better because I managed to get my lethargic non-motivated self out of bed to go for a jog, but when I got home, that's when it hit me. Every ounce of energy suddenly drained from my body. I responded like any normal 39 year old American woman would: I cried, went to bed and stayed there for the rest of the day. I did not want to see anyone, talk to anyone, lug water back and forth from the spigot or be stared at. So I locked myself in my room and stayed there for the day and into the evening. The dark cloud followed me for a few days until Nicole, another PCV, sent me a text message on my cell phone (this is the only way we can communicate because calling is too expensive). I asked her how long culture shock lasts and she said it could stay with us for the entire 2 years. I told her how I had been feeling and she immediately called me. That's the type of person she is, always there when you need her (usually bearing some form of chocolate). I finally let everything out that had been building up for 6 months and cried the hardest I've cried since I got here. It was a good, healthy release that I needed to get out of my system.

The total lack of privacy living on the family compound and the two dogs barking incessantly during the night are the major issues that brought that on. Things have been better, though, since one day after work I put my foot down when the neighborhood kids went to the back of my house, because they couldn't get to me from the front, and started to try to crawl into my window while I was eating my dinner. That was the last straw, so I went outside and displayed a perfect rendition of how my mother would have reacted: I had a hissy-fit melt-down and started exclaiming to the family and neighbors, and anyone else within the vicinity of 100 kilometers: “I CAN'T DO THIS FOR 2 YEARS! IT'S TOO MUCH!” I bellowed. “I'M 40 YEARS OLD! (not really, I'm only 39), I'VE BEEN LIVING ON MY OWN, I'M TRYING, I'M REALLY TRYING, BUT THIS IS TOO MUCH!...etc, etc, etc.” I didn't care that they couldn't understand most of what I was saying. I didn't care what the neighbors were thinking. I didn't care about what everyone in the village would be saying about the 'lakgoa.' I didn't care that there was someone from my work sitting in the yard watching me with his jaw hanging open. I just so desperately wanted to be left alone!

So the mother on my compound started yelling at the kids in Setswana as they scampered away with their heads down... horrah! horrah! horrah! How's that for integration? I have no idea what she said, but they've been giving me much more space since the blessed incident.

It really is like being in a dream sometimes. Living in a different culture like this can be so surreal at times. It's truly amazing how this culture views American's. When I go out for a jog, I hear these small, little voices in the distance yelling, “Maaasaaa,”(my Setswana name is Masa Nnopi) or as I walk down the dirt path outside my house to go to work, I hear the tiny voices, “Masa.”Or when I go to the spigot to fetch some water, I hear, “Masa.”When I go to the primary school, all of the kids are pressed up against the windows watching me walk by as if Princess Diana had just arrived. Sometimes people are watching me when I go out the door in the morning to use the latrine. I've had kids say, “Hi Masa,” as I'm walking towards the latrine, toilet paper in hand. Shortly after I moved in, I noticed the kids had built a play area right in back of my house. One Saturday morning I went outside to the side of the house to wash my clothes and suddenly realized that I had an audience. The kids were watching me do my laundry from their 'play area.' I turned to look at them and one of them exclaimed, “They think you are beautiful.” What could I do? Sometimes they melt my heart, but most of the time it's just too much and I feel like I can't take it anymore. I can certainly sympathize with what celebrities go through. It is such a crazy, crazy thing to be living through, like I stepped into a dream.

"The probability that we may fail in the struggle ought not to deter us from the support of a cause we believe to be just.”

~ Abraham Lincoln

Khubitla (A great deal of hard work)

I work in a junior secondary school, which is comparable to a middle school in the U.S., only the students' ages range anywhere from 13-20 years old. My job title is, 'Life Skills Technical Advisor,' or 'Life Skills Coordinator.' My job description is very broad. I work with teachers, school administration, students, and local organizations (government and NGOs), linking them to the schools. The Ministry of Education says I'm also supposed to be working with my cluster schools. There are 11 of them. Some are primary schools (like elementary) and the rest are junior secondary. I'm not sure whether we are thought of as volunteers or magicians. The amount of responsibility that goes with this position is a bit overwhelming for me to say the least. My job description also states that I should work with out of school youth and encouraging parents to become more involved in their children's education.

Basically my job is to encourage the teachers to familiarized their students with 'Life Skills' concepts to help build self-confidence and make better decisions. Life Skills is an umbrella term for: Self- awareness, values, goal setting, communication, decision making, stress management, sexuality, HIV and AIDS education, risk reduction and relationship issues. The Ministry of Education's objective is to incorporate Life Skills into every classroom in order to reduce the spread of HIV/AIDS. One more important point to keep in mind is that students aren't graded on Life Skills. It is not a required course and is to be 'integrated and infused' into the classrooms a.k.a. an added burden on the teachers and there is no clear cut way of doing this. Some of the schools don't have the books which have the lesson plans. Some schools don't have teacher's manuals. Some schools have some books. Some schools have no books or maybe they just haven't been located. No one really knows for sure.

In theory, the Life Skills curriculum is a wonderful concept, yet, in addition to teachers feeling that this is one more cross to bear, there are some other major issues that need to be addressed before the students can begin wrapping their minds around building their self-confidence and making better decisions: For the rest of this month's blog, please email me at: peacemonger08@gmail.comke a leboga! (Thank you)

September is coming to a close and with it came another hurdle to overcome: IST or in-service training. Yes, that's right. ANOTHER TRAINING! The first two in a half months on site is actually considered another training period- integration into our communities-that is topped off with a ten day non-stop workshop marathon (called in-service training) attended by all Peace Corps Volunteers in our group. During this fun filled event we are also required to pass in an extensive report containing the history of our communities, interviews, descriptions of workshops we've attended, HIV/AIDS statistics of the community, a needs assessment and so on and so forth. Yes, I almost dropped dead of a heart attack when PC handed us the outline of the report. After all, I was done with training, had been sworn in, made it through what I thought would be the hardest part to get through. I was so ready to breath a sigh of relief--then I'm handed this report that could take the entire two years to complete if I took it 100% seriously. The thing about the Peace Corps that people don't realize is, the bureaucracy never stops! From the time you fill out the initial on line application to the last day of service—and I'm sure it won't end even at this point---it is paperwork, paperwork and more paperwork!

Ok, so I lived through IST and it wasn't even that bad. There were parts of it I actually enjoyed including, seeing all of the other PC Volunteers in our group, staying in a nice cabin with a roommate I chose to be with, going down to the field every evening after the workshops were over; some of us played soccer while myself and others ran around in circles to get some much needed exercise, eating some decent meals that were cooked for us, etc etc etc. We all definitely gained some fond memories that we'll have for a lifetime. All in all, it wasn't so bad and there wasn't as much pressure on us as there was during pre-service training. Now all we have left is mid-service training and that's only 3 days—puppy play! During IST we were delivered the wonderful news that we are now required to submit reports every 3 months, which did not go over too well, but after some moaning, groaning, protesting and whining we have all come to accept that this is what we signed up for and there's no getting out of it! Suck it up!

LIFE AT HOME

So here I am settling in to this new life trying to get into some sort of a routine. The tiny dog is still skinny as a rail. Every once in a while, he eats the entire bowl of food I give him, but most of the time he eats just a small amount and guiltily leaves the rest for the big dog, which he never gets because I pour whatever is left back into the bag. Maybe someday the small one will realize he can eat the entire portion himself.

The neighborhood kids have taken 'quite a liken' to me. The sweet little dears have set up a play area in back of my house so they can keep a close eye on everything I do. Yes, it's set up right near the latrine, so I can't even do my business in peace. They also love to follow me into the yard when I'm walking home after a long day at work. They look at me with longing eyes as if to say....save me oh great lakgoa...take me in...feed me...play with me....

Unfortunately, I can't be everything to everyone and I need to say no more times than not. It's funny how people think that just because I joined the Peace Corps it automatically makes me a 'nice person' or 'selfless' or 'giving' or whatever. People from home say, 'you're doing such a great thing.' But I don't always feel that way. I can act just as selfishly here as I could at home...and often do. There is one thing for sure: I am learning a lot about myself. During training, I wasn't too proud of what I was learning. But as the days progress and I'm slowly starting to find my niche, I'm being a little more forgiving with myself.

In reality, it really doesn't take much to make these kids or people happy. I find if I take a few minutes from my day to acknowledge them, they're satisfied (and shouldn't we all do this for each other anyway?). One woman likes to stop by my house to visit...sometimes at the most inopportune times, like when I'm about to do something (I'm always about to do something which is at the heart of my pathetic workaholic nature). So I have to stop and ask myself, 'how am I going handle this'? Today, I came home to change my clothes and have a quick cup of coffee, when before I knew it, my friendly neighbor is at my door. (keep in mind that there is a language barrier, so it's not that easy to say, “hey, I was just on my way to work”) So this time I said to myself, “I'll offer her a cup of tea, tell her I'm going back to work and she won't stay long anyway. No harm done. I do and she sits on my bedroom floor. I motion her to sit in the chair. She sits in the chair and proceeds to tell me in very broken English that she wants to do my laundry. Now this is always music to my ears since doing my laundry by hand is right up there with taking the bus into Gaborone on a hot steamy day with all the windows closed[1] on my list of least favorite things to do in Africa . But my cheap skate alarm goes off and I start doing a cost/ benefit analysis inside my head. I don't have too much laundry. I could do it first thing in the morn....but she stops me in the middle of my thought process: “I need money to go to Gaborone to visit my sick brother.” “Ok,” I reply, “what time do you want to be here tomorrow?” My point is, if I take a few extra minutes to be polite and friendly, it usually turns out to both party's advantage. I do something nice for her, she does something nice for me. We both make out in the deal. I think that's what they call 'instant karma.'

[1] Batswana believe they'll catch the flu if windows are left open in a moving vehicle.

The great French Marshall Lyautey once asked his gardner to plant a tree. The gardner objected saying the tree was slow growing and wouldn't reach maturity for 100 years. The Marshall replied, "In that case, there is no time to lose, plant it this afternoon." John F. Kennedy Taking on the task of 'fattening up' the tiny, starving dog that lives on my family compound has been much more difficult than I imagined and makes me wonder if this is symbolic of what is in store for me over the next two years:

I buy a bag of dog food thinking, I'll feed the dog, he'll 'fatten up' and that will be that. Goal accomplished. Job done. But something strange happens when I feed the dog. He frantically runs over to the bowl of food and begins eating nervously, tail between legs the entire time he's eating. He looks to the side. He looks at me. He suddenly stops, looking guiltily at the big dog whom I blocked from getting at the food. He sits looking at me pathetically, as if to say, 'I want to eat this food so badly, but I can't.' I become irritated by the fact that the dog is obviously starving, I gave him what he needs, but he won't take it. It doesn't make sense. Irritated, I take the dish of food and pour it back into the bag. I'll be dammed if I'm going to give it to the big dog who is getting fed regularly by his owners.

I watch, observe and remember incidents that I've seen happen between dogs and owners and know that I am only seeing a tiny fraction of what is happening. I watch him wince when I offer my hand to pat him. He shivers with fear regularly and walks with his tail between his legs.

One day, as I was getting ready to go out for the day, I hear screaming outside. I realized quickly that this wasn't a 'kidding around, having fun scream', but a fearful, 'I need help' scream. I run outside and there's Bakang, the 9 year old neighbor's boy, being attacked by the big dog while the little dog is barking his head off and jumping all over him. The cousins are over, but the parents in my family compound aren't home, Bakang's sisters are next door, but no one seems to be doing anything. I start screaming, "NO! NO! Stop!!!"at the top of my lungs. The dog finally stops. I run over to Bakang and walk him into my kitchen and sit him at the table. I scan him for cuts and see that his hand is bleeding. There's a chunk taken out of his hand but not big enough to need stitches. One of the cousins slowly and calmly follows me into the house. While I'm cleaning Bakang up, the cousin leisurely pokes through my first aid kit and comments on how much stuff I have. She's intrigued by the medical supplies, but doesn't seem to have the least amount of concern over what just happened. Bakang's sisters are nowhere to be found. They were all outside when this happened. They definitely heard screaming, but no one came to see if he was ok. Bakang was not shaking, and hadn't shed a single tear, but I thought, 'he must at least be in a mild state of shock.' He sits quietly while I bandage him up. When I'm done, he picks up the box of cereal from under the table and pulls the bag out of the box. The kid is so skinny that I can circle my thumb and forefinger around his upper arm. I pour him a bowl and he slowly eats and finishes the cereal. I'm not sure what to do at this point. His parents aren't home, his older sisters aren't concerned and the cousins tell me to wait until the parents come home. Bakang wants to go into the main family house and watch TV, so I walk him over. As I walk towards the main road to go out for the day, I see Bakang's older sister and stop to tell her Bakang got attacked by the dog and suggest they take him to a clinic. She firmly says, "no." What can I do?

Later that evening, my counterpart came to the house to accompany me to deliver the rent money to my landlords (the people living in my family compound who own the dogs). I tell the mother what happened and my counterpart translates for me. The children come to the dog's defense and say, “Bakang should have “knocked on the gate before coming in.” There doesn't seem to be much concern expressed by the mother. The next day the cousin's tell me (I paraphrase) that the little dog provoked the whole incident.

My mouth hangs open.

I give up!

My mind wonders and I remember seeing the mother take food away from the smaller dog and give it to the big dog. I remember seeing the small dog run up to her eagerly for a pat on the head, only to get slapped in the face. I remember her picking up a rock and throwing it at him. She has conditioned the dog not to eat when the big dog is around and has convinced other family members to accompany her in 'ganging up' on him. I wander to myself, 'How do you help someone or something that desperately wants help, but is so abused and conditioned to live a certain way that they are no longer capable of receiving the help?'

It's hard to know what to put into my blog and what to leave out. The vast amount of new experiences and challenges that I face in just a single day are too much to write about. When I lived in the U.S., I had a pretty clear vision of how my day would go, but here, I have no idea what my day is going to be like from the time I wake up in the morning to the time I go to bed at night. No matter how hard I try to plan ahead, there are many surprises throughout the day. Sometimes I even find myself thrown into a week long workshop in a moments notice. This has been the hardest part of adjusting for me. I thought it would end after training, but it seems the Ministry of Education has other plans for us. It's just one more thing I must learn to accept and adjust to, because If I don't, I'm going to spend the next two years in a constant state of frustration. In today's blog, I will start off by spicing things up with my latest fantasy:

As I awaken from sleep while laying on a mattress that has been placed on a cold, hard floor in the dorm room of a Tertiary school, I think to myself, I need something to look forward to. I conjure up a mental image of the first thing I'm going to do when I get back to the U.S.: I'm laying on a king size bed inside a fancy hotel room. I do not leave the bed for the entire day (only to do what is absolutely necessary). There is a TV, clicker, and grand selection of movies. I order room service and eat whatever appeals to me at the moment (a plate of nachos perhaps?). I sleep through the night having plenty of room to roll around. I awaken refreshed and walk down to use the hot tub and sauna. I walk to the hotel restaurant where they are hosting an all you can eat breakfast buffet-unlimited pancakes, waffles, mixed fruit, and home fries, with plenty of ketchup and coffee on the side. Perhaps there is a handsome gentleman in my company who is treating me like the princess that I am (the man is not mandatory to complete the fantasy). The waiter presents me with the option of adding vanilla ice cream on top of my waffles-which of course- I accept. I check out of the hotel feeling rested and satisfied. The end.

No man is an island, entire of itself; . . .any man's death diminishes me,for I am involved in mankind,and therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls;It tolls for thee.John Donne (1572-1631) When I pictured working as a Peace Corps Volunteer, I thought boredom and loneliness would be a big part of what I'd have to cope with-and truth be told- was kind of looking forward to. Thus far, this has not been the case, and quite the contrary. The Peace Corps and Ministry of Education has kept our Life Skills group working together and very busy attending what seems to be an unending array of meetings, workshops, and just recently, a week long Youth Forum that hosted kids whose socioeconomic and learning abilities varied from orphaned to intellectually gifted to those who have been struggling in their classes. The children's ages ranged from 9-16 and there were about 110 kids in attendance.

Our duty was to observe the forum and learn how these types of events are run within this particular country. We were also asked to help out and support the staff whenever we could. Although not all of my colleagues would agree, I was impressed by how smoothly it went. Throughout most of the week, the kids gathered in a big room, listened to lectures, broke into groups, and discussed various topics such as child abuse, HIV/AIDS, and the importance of education. The kids communicated these issues through role playing, making up songs, dramas and public speaking. A few times they were taken out to various places such as a garden, a military base and to a school to play sports. We also visited the Kgosi (tribal chief, which is in every village) to present two computers for the Primary school and a computer and printer for the Secondary school that UNICEF donated to thank the Kgosi for allowing the forum to take place in his village.

From the first day, I noticed one particularly small boy named, Kelebileone, who looked about 5 years of age. I later found out that he had been malnourished as a child and his growth was stunted. He looked so scared and fragile that I just wanted to pick him up and take him back to the US with me. Kelebileone's sister, who was also at the forum, didn't seem to want much to do with him. I also learned that they are orphans and live in a small village with an older sister. It's not unique for children in Botswana to live on their own at a very young age and take care of themselves and younger siblings. There are many orphans due to the AIDS pandemic and many other children's parents go off to “The Lands” where they make a living growing crops and raising cattle. A fellow PCV mentioned that many of the children have probably never used a flush toilet before the forum, and this may be, for a lot of them, their first time.

Sometimes I get letters from home asking how I can live like this, but it's easy to do when I look at it from the perspective knowing this is only a temporary situation for me, and then I look at these kids and understand that they will be living like this for the rest of their lives. I feel the very least I can do is make this small sacrifice to possibly make their world a tiny bit better. My hope is to also deliver the message that while, the U.S. government spent 439.3 billion on its military budget (not including nuclear weapons, research, maintenance and production) and is projected to spend 3 trillion on the Iraq war alone, there are many other children just like Kelebileone who went to bed without a pillow or a sufficient amount of blankets to keep warm during the Youth Forum. When I think of this, I remember the words I heard in the RFK American Experience film:

“There must be a revolution—not in the streets-- but in the minds and the hearts of the American people.”

Announcement to all PC Diary Fans:

Just want to let everyone know that I've posted lots of pictures, so just scroll down to My Favorite Links on the right of the blog and you'll find the link to my pictures. Please forgive me for not having them organized and labeled very well. It's going to be a work in progress throughout the next two years.

Ke a leboga borra le bomma! (Thank you gentlemen and ladies!)

Masa Nnopi

(My Setswana name)

“I am always willing to learn, however, I do not always like to be taught."

~ Winston Churchill My House in Botswana:

I've been placed on a family compound which consists of: The main family house with a mother, father, 19 year old daughter and two dogs living in it; my house located next to it; a storage shed with a round thatch roof; a fire pit; and a pit latrine. My house is rectangularly shaped and has no indoor plumbing, but I do have electricity. I consider myself lucky since a large percentage of the Batswana population do not. One day, during a Guidance and Counseling class that I was observing, the teacher asked the students how many of them had electricity and only a few of them raised their hands. I'm sure the majority of them have no indoor plumbing as well. The topic the teacher was discussing was, Needs vs.Wants. The class concluded that electricity was a want and not a need. This got me wondering how many Americans consider electricity a want and not a need. Getting back to my house, the design is somewhat of an enigma as there are three rooms that have no doors that lead into the next room, so every time I want to go from one room to the next, I must open a door that leads to the outside, close that door and then open a door to the next room and close it. It's quite necessary to close each door behind me as I never know what might meander into my room. There are dogs, kids and lots of bugs that like to sneak in as soon as I'm not paying attention. This process gets quite monotonous to say the least and is just one of the little annoyances I must put up with for the next two years. I've been wondering who designed this house and why they would create something so totally inconvenient and utterly impractical. The only sense I can make from it (suggested by a close PC friend) is that it was originally made for three separate families. In addition to the inconvenience, it doesn't provide much privacy, as family and neighbors can watch me go back and forth, from one room to the other, fetching whatever I forgot in the next room.

Batswana Neighbors:

Batswana neighbors pay close attention to what the other is doing (especially the Lakgoa, or white person, living next door). This is a big cultural difference that I need to get accustomed to. Here's an example of what I'm talking about: One day, I was getting ready to go to work, my sister (who is the girl living in the main family house-this is another cultural difference-anyone can become your sister or brother) came over and said to me, “you left your kitchen window open.”I responded with my leisurely Bostonian accent, “ya, so?” She responded, “a big wind could come and blow everything in your kitchen down.” On this particular day, I just wasn't in the mood for the politically correct cultural exchange, so I shrugged it off and went about my business going to work. As I was walking down the dirt path on the way to the main road, my neighbor stopped me and started uttering something to me in Setswana. Now here I am, trying to get to work on time, but also trying to maintain a friendly Peace Corps manner, so I said, “excuse me? What?" and walked closer in, as she uttered more words that I could not make out. Finally, as I got closer, she exclaimed to me in English, “You left your kitchen window open! Go shut it!” On this particular day, my sense of humor and patience went clear out the window. I huffed away in a disgusted manner at the thought that anyone would be paying attention that closely to me and also ordering me around for that matter! This is Botswana. Today, a woman stopped me in the street and abruptly asked me where I was coming from, what I was doing there and which side do I stay? Which means, where do you live? Today I seemed to have a lighter heart and answered all of her questions with a cheerful smile. I'm not sure if I'm getting used to it, if it depends on the day, or if it's that I'm learning not to take these cultural differences as a personal attack and just understand that: This is Botswana.

Botswana Weather:

Botswana weather is very strange indeed. We are now experiencing the winter months, June, July and August. At night, it gets bitterly cold. Early in the morning, it's still cold, but becomes increasingly warmer as the day progresses. In the morning, I dress for winter with a hat, gloves and thick wool socks. By the afternoon, I am now sweltering and ready to go home and change into outfit # 2. In June, I could actually put on a pair of shorts and sandals, but in July it stays cool enough to wear long pants with no jacket. Then nighttime comes and I wear layers to bed with my warm wool socks. Getting out of bed is an event that requires great ambition and a will of steel. Botswana homes are not heated. The only heaters available are small space heaters. I own an electric one myself, but it doesn't do much good, as I can only leave it on for a short period of time because it sucks the electricity down so quickly. In Botswana, we pay for electricity in advance at what I call, the “Electricity Store.”We have meters that let us know how much electricity is left. When something like a space heater is running, you see the electricity go down very quickly, so it's really not worth it to run them much. Consequently, every morning, the Batswana people get out of bed and start the day by stepping onto a freezing cold cement floor. There's no wall to wall carpeting either because the ground outside is all dirt. DIRT, DIRT, EVERYWHERE THERE'S DIRT. The dirt gets tracked into the house and is impossible to keep up with. The best way to deal with the dirt is to just accept it.

The Bank:

In the village of Molepolole, when a Motswana needs to withdraw cash out of the ATM machine, there is no guarantee that the one machine in town will be working, and if it is, you can surely bet there will be a long line. However, they don't seem to mind them and it appears that bank lines have become somewhat of a social event. Of course, this would be completely unacceptable for Americans and would need our money swiftly and promptly or our day would be ruined!

Post Office:

Getting a few stamps at the Post Office requires the patience of Mother Theresa. The other day, I spent at least a half hour waiting in line a the Post Office to buy some envelopes. Half way through the line, the thought came to me that there was a good chance they would be our of envelopes. Right then and there, I repeated to myself, “Ok, I accept the possibility that they may not have envelopes. I'm at peace with it, and if they don't, I will calmly walk away and see if the pharmacy has some. I never did get envelopes that day. This is Botswana.

Bucket Bathing:

Bathing has become something I dread and avoid as much as possible! Perhaps it will be better after the winter months, but for now, I must suffer through the ordeal as best I can. One reason it is so difficult right now is because the air inside the house is so cold and there's only about 2 or 3 inches of water in the bucket. When I run the water over myself, it initially feels warm, but soon after, I'm cold once again. I've figured out how to get through this procedure as painlessly as possible by allowing myself to use my heater only during bucket bathing. I never thought I'd be able to go for 3 days without washing, especially because I run everyday, but low and behold...I do! I wear a lot of hats these days and baby wipes help out as well. The second reason why bucket bathing is such a pain in the rear end is because it is such a time consuming process that takes planning and organizing. Firstly, one must heat a large teapot of water up on the stove, secondly, the big bathing bucket, smaller bucket with cold water to mix with the hot water, towels, and soap and other toiletries must to placed out on the floor. Thirdly, the cleaning up process is no picnic either, as one must take the big bathing bucket and empty it into the smaller bucket to be taken outside to pour onto the plants. It's a good idea to say a short prayer while doing this, to avoid losing control of the large bathing bucket and potentially dumping it's entirety all over the bedroom floor.

Emotional Eating:

I've always loved food and most of my life have had a good appetite, especially for such a small person, but joining the Peace Corps has taken my love of food to a whole new level. There's more to it than love. There is a sense of urgency now that was never there before. The speed at which I eat has increased, I can't get the food down my throat fast enough. It's not just a craving I feel, but actual hunger, even just after I've already eaten. Part of it may be that I walk a lot more than I used to and everything I do now requires physical labor (like taking a bath), but the other part is, I feel very strongly that I'm using food to soothe and comfort myself, which I have never done to this extent before. It's so overwhelming, that at times, I feel I have no control over it. I feel I have developed a deeper understanding of what the people I used to work with at the health clubs were going through. I truly hope that I can get a grip on this before it gets out of hand, otherwise, I'll be rolling home to the U.S. and no one will be able to recognize me!

Peace Corps BotswanaOath of ServiceI do solemnly swear that I, Jennifer Jordan, will support and defend the Constitution of the United States of America against all enemies, foreign and domestic, that I take this obligation freely, without any mental reservation or purpose of evasion, and that I will well and faithfully discharge my duties in the Peace Corps, so help me God.

Well, we finally made it! On June 18th, our group, known as Bots 7, were finally sworn in as official Peace Corps Volunteers (PCVs). It was a long and arduous journey; two and a half months feeling more like two and a half years! We started out as a group of 61 and have already dropped down to 54. Peace Corps honored us with a swearing in ceremony and invited guest speakers. Some guests included, former president, Festus Mogae, United States Ambassador to Botswana, Katherine Canavan, of course our Peace Corps Director, Peggy McClure and all of our host families were invited as well. I've learned a lot from training with our group. They are a tough bunch of people who can take criticism without batting an eye and they all have an incredible ability to think quickly, creatively and persevere through the hardest of times. I'm proud to be a part of Bots 7. Ke a leboga borra le bomma for showing me what it takes to make it when the going gets tough!

A misery is not measured from the nature of the evil, but from the temper of the sufferer.

~ Joseph Addison

On Saturday, May 31st, my language group met out at the "bus stop" around 7:10 am to be transported to a church called, The House of Spiritual Healing." Here, we presented our PACA projects to the rest of the Life Skills and CCB (Community Capacity Building) group. These were projects that we've been working on for a few weeks which required us to conduct an interview with an orgainization, create a service map, a timeline and trendline, a SWOT Analysis and then come up with a proposal for the organization. In the midst of doing this project, we've withstood 4 hour language classes, Lifeskills Program Development workshops and various other trainings and workshops.

May 31st was the big day (which I described in my last entry) we were assigned to the sites that we'll be living in for the next two years. We stayed at our sites last week to get a sense of what it will be like and to become familiar with the community. I will be living in Molepelole on a family compound. There is a mother, father and 19 year old daughter living in the main house. I will be living in a house next to them that is basically a cement block with no running water inside the house. There's a water spigot outside where I'll be fetching water for my baths and so forth. It looks as though I'll be living in a way that is similar to going back in time. Initially, I was is shock because I was under the impression that I'd have running water and be living on my own, but the longer I stayed, the more I started to enjoy washing the dishes out in the hot sun and playing in the yard with the local children. My new 19 year old sister is a delight and I have taken on the job of "fattening up" our two dogs.

Peace Corps training has stripped me of every ounce of control over my life. It's a hard thing to deal with, especially as an older adult who has living on her own for such a long time. My diet has completely changed: I'm eating hoards of white bread, white rice, processed cereal, other starches, whole milk and a minute amount of fruits and vegetables. My running and strength trianing program has been put on hold, at least until training is over. The only thing that is saving me is all the walking I'm doing while carrying a heavy backpack.

On the upside, I've seen and done so many new things in such a short amount of time. I've stayed in a small village called, Mookane. There, I visited the local health clinic and school and attended a local Kgotla meeting (which is similar to a town meeting and is very popular with the Batswana), the Khama Rhino Sanctuary and to the capital city, Gaborone and inside the mall which is quite modern, located near the American Embassy and Peace Corps Headquarters. The Peace Corps took us on a trip to the Bachurutshe Cultural Village where they reinacted traditional dances, ceremonies and a wedding. The next weekend, we visited the Jwaneng Diamond Mine, the richest diamond mine in the world by value. The diamond mine was establised in 1978 by the Government of Botswana and De Beers and since has produced much wealth for the country of Botswana.

Sundays are dedicated to laundry, which is done by hand, then hung outside on the line. This production takes at least two hours. I'm also trying to keep my host brother's room clean while I'm using it for the time being. I'm incredibly impressed with my fellow PCV trainees stamina in terms of socializing. They often get together during the short amount of free time we have. I don't attempt to keep up, but rather, go home to my host family and rest, read or write in my journal. I'm quite lucky in the sense that my living arrangements allows for some time to myself. Some of the volunteers live with big families who do not allow for any peace and quite. If that had been the case for me, I'm not sure I would have made it through training.

Please click link below to view another blog and pictures of our PC adventure. These pictures were taken by my terrific, wonderful, lovable friend, Nicole Kim. I will soon be posting my own pictures as well:

Jiniki.blogspot.com

picasaweb.google.com/jiniki

The Peace Corps hosted yet another ceremony for us. This time, in honor of meeting our counterparts (Motswana supervisor whom we will be working with side by side for the next two years). Of course, the PC couldn't go a day without having us form into goups, discuss a topic, then present our ideas to the entire group. One would think I'd be used to it by now, but I still hate it as much as I did on day one! This is what life has been like 6 days a week!

I'll remain living in Molepelole, on a side of town that is quite different from the area I've been living in. This area is very rural and far away from the main road that runs through town. PC initially described my site as having all the amenities, but reality told a different story. I'm going to be living on a family compound with a mother, father and 17 year old girl. I won't have running water, so there's nothing that resembles a kitchen or bathroom. There's a room that has a gas stove which isn't working properly, and a latrine outside in the back yard. I'm interested to learn how I will bathe, wash dishes and other basic rituals we American's take for granted.

By the time I get back home, I won't want to hear any complaining about laundry, dirty dishes or anything else of that nature! I believe I experienced culture shock for the first time yesterday.... and had a good cry for myself.

As I walked home from the grocery store the other day, I realized I was alone- in my own space-for the first time since April 15th. For me, this is the hardest part of training: Being around people 24 hours 7 days a week. I love our training group and my host family, but I'm used to having quite a bit of time to myself.

Staging Event began in Philadelphia, which consisted of non-stop workshops, "getting to know you" activities and taking care of more PC beaurocracy. From there, we took a bus to JFK airport, piled into a plane that made a quick stop to Senegal and then dropped us off in Johannesburg, South Africa. We stayed overnight in a hotel, got up the next day and took a 6 hour bus ride to Botswana. I remember the exact moment when I saw the sign, "Welcome to Botswana."I couldn't believe I was finally there. Unfortunately, I didn't have my camera and missed the shot.

I've been here for 4 weeks, but it seems like so much longer. We've met so many people and have done so many things. It's hard to know where to begin. The Peace Corps is unforgiving--we have no time off. As soon as we arrived in Botswana, we were directed to attend a meeting (jetlag and all). It's been non-stop ever since. We are bombarded with language learning, safety training, HIV/AIDS educational workshops and more.

I'm living with my host family in a village called Molepelole. It's considered urban, but there are lots of dirt roads with goats, donkies, chickens and roosters wondering around the streets and yards. As I walk home from school I am bombarded with people waving at me and exclaiming, "Dumela mma"(hello, ma'am, in Setswana). Greeting people is of the utmost importance, so even as I walk home by myself, I am not alone.

My host family treats me wonderfully. It has become somewhat of a joke amongst some of the PC volunteers. They call me "The queen."I have a beautiful bedroom with a ceiling fan, there's a microwave oven in the kitchen, we have electricty, running water and flushing toilet. We run out of water quite frequently, I walk a lot with a heavy backpack and have aquired quite a few blisters on my feet. It's hard, but all in all, things are going well. I feel so lucky to have met such incredible people. My language teacher, Thato, is a joy to be with. We have all bonded very quickly. We laugh and complain a lot...we are family already.

"I've been absolutely terrified every moment of my life and I've never let it keep me from doing a single thing that I wanted to do."

~Georgia O'Keeffe

Wed April 16, 2008

1:00 pm

open registration

official registration as Peace Corps trainee

3:00-7:00

Welcome to Peace Corps and start of Training Program

Thurs April 17, 2008

8:30 am-12:00 pm

Training Program (cont.)

Lunch

1:30-6:00

Training Program (cont)

Fri April 18, 2008

8:00

Check out of hotel

9:00 am

Bus leaves for airport

United Airlines FLT: 4586

LV JFK Airport 5:20 pm

Apr. 19 Sat.

ARR: Johannesburg, South Africa 4:35 pm

16 hrs and 15 minutes

April 20

Bus ride to Botswana 6 hours

Here's what happens when you don't complete

your 20 miles for the Trek to Botswana.

The comedians at work sent this picture to me. I was too far away to drive to work and take it down...I was completely helpless!

I completed my miles that week....this is just wrong!!

Kristin Will and brother Bill--ha that rhymes!

Thank you, Will and Kristin *especially Kristin* for hosting such a great party! Kristin cooked up a wonderful spread of my favorite Mexican food and topped it off with a gigantic cake! I shall be full until my return in 2010!

Sam, Dad and Marty

Danny and wendy

My sisters, Nancy and Paula

Big brotha, George

Little Andrew, my Great Nephew/ The sibs

Girl Power!

Man Power!

A meaningful converstation between Marty and Donna

Andrew and Nephew, Will

George

Dad

Me and Dee Dee

Not so little Nephew, Dan

My sista, Nancy

Tom ass

Brother-in-Law, Phil, missed the party, but was there in spirit

We missed you, Phil!

That it will never happen again is what makes life so sweet. ~Emily Dickinson

SSC staffers 'Trek to Botswana' to support Peace Corps worker By Amanda McGregor

Staff writer

— SALEM — Jennifer Jordan was looking for a way to educate her Salem State colleagues about the Peace Corps and the sub-Saharan African country of Botswana, where she'll be living the next two years as part of a public health mission. So she asked people to join her in a symbolic "Trek to Botswana," by either running, biking or swimming the distance from Salem to Botswana — 7,694 miles — by her departure date on April 16. To her amazement, 30 faculty and staff members got on board. "I'm overwhelmed by the support you get from people when you go forward with something you really want to do," said Jordan, who works at the college's Wellness Center. Since Jan. 14, the eclectic, multiage group of professors, staff and students has been exercising and tracking their mileage on a Trek to Botswana wall that Jordan set up at the Wellness Center in the O'Keefe Center. "It's a fairly stable African nation, but like all African nations, they need support. Public health is a big issue," said professor Louise Swiniarski of Salem, who is a runner. "I teach global education, so I hope she'll come back and talk to my graduate students in two years." Every week, Jordan pastes up facts about Botswana and phrases in the country's main dialect, Setswana, such as "Le kae?" which means "What's up?" and "Go Siame," meaning "OK/goodbye." "I've learned a couple of phrases, and I went home and Googled Botswana by myself and learned a little more on my own," said Salem State senior Rintaro Fukutomi of Salem. A "Wall of Shame," marked by an askew skull and crossbones, draws attention to participants who don't keep up with their 20 miles a week. "Everyone has been so wonderful that it makes it even harder to leave," said Jordan, 39, a petite, energetic woman who has worked at the Wellness Center for four years. Last May, she graduated from Salem State with a bachelor's degree in fitness and leisure studies. Getting inspired Together, the group must clock 600 miles per week in order to reach its goal by April 16 — the day Jordan leaves for the Peace Corps. Members of the team say Jordan has been an inspiration to them at the gym. "When I first started coming here, I couldn't even walk 20 miles a week — now I'm running 25 miles," said Nick Giarratani of Salem, who is on the music department staff at Salem State. "Jen's been helping me, so I thought this was ... a good chance to get more in shape and for her to raise awareness." Volunteering for the Peace Corps has been a longtime dream for Jordan, who lives in Burlington. Her mission is to improve public health through youth education in Botswana, where AIDS and HIV infection rates are among the highest in the world, she said. In 2001, 39 percent of the adult population, ages 15 to 49, was infected. "It's a politically stable country, but (AIDS) is a big problem," Jordan said. "I don't know yet, but what I hear is that communication is the biggest problem. There is a lack of education; parents don't like discussing (sexual behavior) with their children. ... I think denial runs very deep." Jordan leaves in two weeks, so she's been busy selling off her furniture and belongings, studying Setswana, and packing for extreme conditions — while maintaining an 80-pound luggage limit. She's been told that winter nights in Botswana are "bitingly cold" and summer days are scorchingly hot. Until she arrives in the country, she won't know her placement — whether it's in a small village or a city, or whether she'll have indoor plumbing, heat and electricity, which vary throughout the country. She'll be there for 27 months, until 2010. The seasons are opposite from New England, since Botswana is far south of the equator, so Jordan will be re-entering winter when she arrives, as summer approaches back home on the North Shore. "Going to Africa and living in Africa is very exciting," Jordan said. "I'm excited to live with people in a different culture. ... And I'll be keeping a good sense of humor while I'm there." > Wellness 5K The efforts of the Trek to Botswana team will culminate at the 12th annual North Shore Wellness Fair and Road Race on Sunday, April 13, at 9 a.m, at the O'Keefe Center on Canal Street. For more information and registration, visit www.salemstate.edu/wellness. About Botswana Location: In southern Africa, north of the country of South Africa Population: 1.8 million Comparative size: Slightly smaller than Texas Geographic features: Kalahari Desert in southwest Language: English is the official language, but 78 percent of the population speak Setswana, and there are various other dialects. Information gathered from the Central Intelligence Agency's database at www.cia.gov.

Lauren Fitzgeraldlook'n pretty

Jay Eaton inflicting pain

Carlos Vasquez- came to torture me every morning

graduation 2007

Me/ Joe (greatest boss ever, but don't tell him I said that)

me, Joe, Jason, kohei

Boston Marathon 2007

Joe Dunn Sr. showing support

me/ Rintaro Fukutomi (supreme athletes)

2007 Wellness Fair/5K Road Race

Dedicated Participants,Trek to Botswana

Wellness Center Goes Green

Sophea, Julia and Anthony

A great date flick!

Salem State alumna joins Peace Corps missionBy Jim Glynn

SALEM— Jennifer Jordan, of Burlington, a 2007 Sport, Fitness and Leisure Studies graduate of Salem State, has been invited to serve in the United States Peace Corps. As a Life Skills Technical Advisor, Jordan will depart for Botswana, Africa in April where she will spend over two years working to help reduce the spread of HIV/AIDS. “My objective is to stay focused on my job and to carry out the Peace Corp mission,” Jordan said. Jordan will help implement a new life skills curriculum designed to encourage behavior change for students of all grades in the Botswana public school system. She will work closely with teachers and guidance councilors to encourage student interest and commitment to the new curriculum. Currently a supervisor at the Salem State College Wellness Center, Jordan has already begun an educational initiative here at home. In January she launched The Trek to Botswana, enlisting 30 Wellness Center members to commit to the task of running, walking, biking or swimming 20 miles per week. Over the course of 13 weeks, from January 14 to April 16, the group will cover 7,694 miles, the equivalent of the distance from Boston to Botswana. Throughout the program, the Wellness Center is posting educational facts about this small nation located in south Africa. The Peace Corps was established in 1961 by President John F. Kennedy, “to promote world peace and friendship.”

College Relations Inspired by colleague's Peace Corp. mission Wellness Center sets out on Trek to Botswana March 12, 2008 Contact: James K Glynn at james.glynn@salemstate.edu or 978-542-7519.

SALEM- Members of the Salem State College Wellness Center are on the road to Botswana.Since January 14, 30 members have each been running, walking, biking or swimming 20 miles per week, with a group goal of covering an estimated 7,694 miles from Boston to Botswana, Africa by April 16. Wellness Center staff members organized the virtual Trek to Botswana to honor staffer Jennifer Jordan's actual trip to that small nation located in Southern Africa as a member of the United States Peace Corp. Jordan recently accepted an invitation to serve in the Peace Corps and will be traveling to Botswana in April for a 26-month stay to help reduce the spread of HIV/AIDS there.Participants in the Trek are: George Abboud, Ross Arnold, Joan Burglund, George Claveau, Ryan Collins, Joseph Dunn Sr., Jay Eaton, Rintaro Fukutomi, Nick Giarratani, Mary Katz, Nancy Pelletier, Richard Pelletier, Joseph Salerno, Joe Sullivan, Louise Swiniarski and Carlos Vasquez, all of Salem; Paul Beauvais, Colleen Hyde and Sophea Neak of Lynn; Darrell Bormann, Betsy Caliri, David Goodof and Beth Haran of Marblehead; Liz Brenton of Stoneham; Jessica Distler of Pepperell; Shawn Dowen of Hudson; Joe Dunn Jr. of Lowell; Ignacio Encina of Peabody; Ann Marie Gallo of Medford and Jennifer Jordan of Burlington.The Trek also coincides with the Wellness Center's annual North Shore Wellness Fair and 5K Road Race/Fun Walk on Sunday, April 13. "Our trek's objective is to encourage physical activity and camaraderie, while educating people about a new place and culture," said Joe Dunn, manager of the Wellness Center. "We also hope to engage in the efforts of the United States Peace Corps mission to help the people of interested countries in meeting the need for trained men and women."Throughout the program, the Wellness Center will be posting interesting facts about the country of Botswana while keeping track of the mileage the participants have covered."We feel this is also a great way to help our members prepare for the upcoming 5K road race and fun walk. Our objective is to encourage as many members as we can to participate in this community event," Dunn added. "I cannot stress enough how important it is for every member of the community to incorporate more physical activity into their daily lives to reduce cardiovascular disease and the ever increasing obesity epidemic that is plaguing our country."In its 12th year, the North Shore Wellness Fair and Road Race will take place from 8 to 11 a.m. Sunday, April 13 at the Salem State College's O'Keefe Center on Canal Street. Medical professionals will offer free testing for blood pressure, bone density, cholesterol, diabetes and skin cancer. Personal trainers will offer fitness assessments while providing nutrition and injury prevention information. Booths will also be set up to offer postural analysis and acupuncture information.As in years past, a coinciding 5K road race begins at 9 a.m. and requires registration. Runners and walkers who sign up before race day pay a fee of $15 while same-day registration, beginning after 7:30 a.m., will cost $20. Participants can register in advance by mailing a check to the SSC Wellness Center, 225 Canal Street, Salem, MA. 01970 or by visiting http://www.active.com/.Proceeds from the race will go to the Northeast Animal Shelter, the American Cancer Society, the Salem Mission and the Wellness Center Fund.More information and registration forms are available online at www.salemstate.edu/wellness or by calling Jay Eaton at the Wellness Center at (978) 542-6550.

Trek road bike: $500, all the jewelery I've collected over the years: $630, giving away old books: $0........flying off into the sunset: Priceless.

It's a weird feeling--- slowly letting go of my belongings. In the midst of it, this thought occurs, What if I don't make it? As Stuart Smalley would ask, "What if I'm not good enough, smart enough, strong enough?"

Ok, so I've gotten rid of most of my stuff. So what? I want to downsize anyway.

Waves of nausea circulate throughout my body.

I've done this before. I've walked away from everything I owned and survived. Not only did I survive, I became a much stronger person.

"Change means movement. Movement means friction."

Last night during U23D, I thought, there is nothing bad about what I'm doing. It is perfectly pure. Unlike how I've felt with some commitments, like when I decided to get married. There was this dark side that was there, but I didn't want to look at it. This is different, like when I decided to go to college, pure, perfect and without fault. But not without fear.

The dark side and fear are two different things. The dark side is this feeling like there is something not right with what I'm about to do. Fear is, oh my God, I hope I can pull this off!

BTW--I highly recommend going to see U23D at an Imax Theater. It was amazing! Incredible! Outstanding! Superb! Bono is the coolest of the cool. The hippest of the hip and the Fonzie of the New Millennium.

Yesterday's quotes were inspired by my weekend pity party ritual. During the week, I have no time to deal with Peace Corps preparation, so it all falls on my shoulders during the dreaded weekends. Movies, dinners, outdoor runs around the pond have all become a thing of the past. Weekends are now dedicated to organizing paperwork, dealing with financial issues, posting my unwanted belongings on Craig's list, cleaning, shredding etc, etc, etc.

I never know what exactly will send me over the edge. It's usually due to some financial issue that I've managed to avoid during the 39 years of my life. I recently heard Suze Ormon, a financial expert who appears on Oprah now and then, say that women need to start taking responsibility for their own finances (what a concept). We are all waiting for that guy (see definition below) to come along and deal with it for us. Yes, that's right, I wasn't even aware of it. I have become so independent in so many ways, but still, I resist dealing with my finances. It was really a simple thing to get over yesterday. My head was spinning from some questions that appeared on my retirement fund account----questions regarding taxes---"Oh God! Don't make me go there!"

Then the thought came to me, I could call the phone number that appears under the words, "If you have any questions or need help filling out the form." Voilà!-problem solved!

That guy- you know, that guy--- the one Walt Disney told us about, the guy on the white horse who is going to come and make everything all better. That guy who is going to sweep us off of our feet--- and---of course---take care of our finances. I don't care how old you are, lady---we all know who he is.