Last year, I spent Thanksgiving day at the beautiful home of the US Ambassador, along with several other Peace Corps Volunteers as well as the marines who guard the embassy. The weekend after was spent at the home of an American family friend—where we held another family style Thanksgiving complete with real turkey, cranberry cocktails, baked brie, and great company. Thus, I cannot help but be depressed that the following year I am spending Thanksgiving alone in my hut. This year, the overachieving ‘I’m leaving in a few months and worried that I haven’t accomplished everything that I set out to’ side of me overpowered the holiday loving side of me, and scheduled 3 big events for the week after Thanksgiving. In honor of World AIDS Day, in the span of one week I will be conducting Gogo Olympics (operating under the theme of living a positive and healthy lifestyle), a Peer Education event in which the girls club will go out into the schools and teach about HIV (having completed 3 weeks of training earlier this month), and a community wide HIV/AIDS awareness and testing event on Saturday December 3rd. Because of the school schedule, Christmas break, and our imminent Close of Service conference, this week was the only logical or possible time that I could do these events, and so I cannot go to celebrate with friends. As excited as I am to see the previous months hard work come to fruition next week, I can’t help but be a bit homesick and lonely today. However, it is this feeling of nostalgia that lead me this morning to contemplate how truly blessed I am to have these people and things to be homesick for in the first place. So although my family is gathered together around my favorite food this year and I cannot be present, I will still be thankful.

I am thankful that even though we are in the midst of summer, today it is overcast and cool, allowing me to feel a little more like I’m at home.

I am thankful for my health, for my financial stability, for my hope that has never been lost, and the ability to allow myself dream so big.

I am thankful that I have an incredibly loving family that has supported me in every way possible over the past 2 years.

I am thankful for my friends, both friends at home and PCVs here, who accept me, love me, challenge me, support me, listen to me, and laugh with me.

I am thankful for the fact that I have had an incredible experience here in South Africa, and that it continues to surprise, challenge, and enlighten me every day.

I am thankful for my host siblings who, when they see me coming home, will run up the road screaming “sesi!” and jump into my arms and kiss me.

I am thankful that the water came on this morning after been off for the past 2 months.

I am thankful for love, for perseverance, and for experiences that cause me to laugh so hard that my stomach hurts and tears come to my eyes.

I am thankful to see the fruits of labor as one Gogo in the support group said yesterday, “Years ago a tsotsi (gangster) killed my son, and since then I have lived in a severe depression. But since I have been with you in this group, my stress has started to go away. I don’t know how to thank you all, it never seems like enough.”

But perhaps most importantly of all, I am thankful that on this day that symbolizes family and togetherness, that I can sit in my hut watching a holiday movie with homemade banana bread and black bean chili, and that I can feel satisfied with that, because here I am also at home.

We are reading books! Hooray! After almost a year of creating a library literally from the ground up, I can now brag that we are almost finished and operational! We have a brightly painted yellow room, poorly constructed shelves, and a ceiling with holes large enough for the birds to poop through…but we’re moving along with almost 1,000 books. Two of my fellow PCVs came one weekend to help me organize the books, which was a huge help. I had originally started organizing it with the girls club, but we moved at a snails pace. With the ‘one for you, and one for me’ mentality, the girls would classify one book, then take a 10 minute break to read a story. As frustrating as that was, it was a huge motivation for me to finish the library as soon as possible once I realized how truly starved for knowledge these youth are. So, I opted for the help of friends and decided that the girls could help decorate the room with posters and helpful reference material. They are also interested in creating a library committee, in which they will be responsible for the upkeep and organization of the library. I would love to be able to start a library club, focusing on reading and writing, as well as reading to the students in the primary school…but for now I need to take one step at a time. Any leads on more book donations would be greatly appreciated :)

This past month in SA we celebrated culture and heritage. As you can imagine with 11 national languages, there are quite a number of different cultures which lends itself to a lot of interesting knowledge, beautiful outfits, and diverse dancing. I was invited to go with the crèche (preschool/daycare) to a cultural celebration in a neighboring village. I traveled with almost 100 kids dressed to the tee in their traditional outfits to a celebration consisting of almost 1000 kids from all around the area. Older men and women dressed in their traditional outfits told beautiful and elaborate stories to the children in a forum that I imagine was very popular in the days before television. Something I have always admired (especially as someone who is working on her public speaking abilities) about South Africans is their ability to talk, in whatever form it may take. Whether someone is praying, giving a speech, or merely sharing the town gossip, I feel as if the words continuously flow out of their mouths without so much as an ‘um’ to break the rhythm. After the stories, a local authority in the community gave a speech about why it is important to remember and celebrate our cultures, but also to be tolerant and accepting of others. Finally, each crèche was given the opportunity to do their traditional dances in front of the entire group. As traditional dancing is a HUGE source of joy and pride in the communities (and the dances are rarely if ever performed by children), it was really special to see how excited the children were to take this chance to perform their culture. The pictures show my 5 year old host brother is standing in front of my house, me decked out in my traditional Ndebele garb (my host sister and mother had a ball dressing me up for the occasion) standing with another teacher, and a shot of the group at the celebration.

Akwande! Hello friends and family. I just realized that I haven’t updated my blog in 2 months…not acceptable, I know. To be honest, there has been was a lot of coming and going, and many emotional ups and downs over the past 2 months, and I am now finally having the time to sit and process all of it. To begin, after an ineffable Camp GLOW experience (I’m still riding the high of that week, even now almost 3 months later), I got to see my parents! Now, some of you (PCVs) may be rolling your eyes right now—didn’t your parents come last year, Emily? Greeeeeedy. Well yes, they did. I am very fortunate to have been able to see them multiple times, and now that I think about it, maybe that is a perk of joining the Peace Corps straight after college—your parents still can’t get used to being without their baby ;) Anyway, they came with a missions team from their church, FPC, and the whole experience was wonderful. The first stop on a 2 week trip visiting partners and other rural villages around SA, I was lucky enough to host the team in my village. The team members put on a full day camp for the learners (grades pre-school until 6) complete with puppet shows, games, music, bible stories, sports, and crafts. The chicken dance made an appearance, and I still have little children follow me home flapping their arms and wagging their tails. It was really exciting to have the team there, for there are no outreach programs that ever reach as far into the booneys as my village. Yes, the kids may have seen white people while in the city, but I doubt that many of them have ever interacted with any of them outside of Peace Corps. The energy was so high and I think that the kids truly appreciated the love and kindness that radiated from every member of their team. After the camp, we had a big braai (barbeque) at my Home Based Care. I invited friends, family, and people that I have been working with over the past year and a half (teachers, nurses, girls club, etc) to come and meet the visitors. The Gogos, dressed from head to toe in traditional garb, danced for them, Caregivers cooked delicious SA foods, and we even had an impromptu drama performance from some of the high school students. The best part, however, was the gift-giving. During Christmas of 2010, their church had challenged the children of Houston to raise money for the children of SA. They successfully raised $5000, which bought school uniforms, new shoes, and blankets for 100 Orphans and Vulnerable Children in my village and the neighboring village. This was HUGE. Though we had some problems with the sizes, it was an incredible gift for which I and those families are extremely grateful. The next day we had a great meeting with the Gogos, and then took off to visit the rest of the partner organizations/villages. Having had my family come at the same time last year—when I had not accomplished a single thing, and wasn’t even completely comfortable in my village yet—and then to have them see how I was living and what I was doing a year later was really great, and in a way it proved to me how much I actually had accomplished and how much I had grown over the past year. I was even able to celebrate my pseudo birthday with them, complete with a spa-day and Nobu sushi (later to be followed by celebrating my actual birthday with many of my PCV friends at an impromptu all-volunteer conference, which included cake and dancing until 4 in the morning). After a wonderful 2 weeks, the inevitable goodbye occurred, filled with tears and lots of hugs, yet this time it wasn’t so heartwrenchingly sad; I believe this is because I am finally truly happy where I am, and I knew that it wouldn’t be too long before I was home cuddling by the fire with them again. After my parents left, I continued life as usual for a few weeks before my next big adventure: Paris! Yes, I boarded a plane and met my boyfriend in Paris for a week at the end of August. I’ll spare you the sappy details, but it was another amazing experience and important time for us together, filled with exploring the city on bikes, running along the Seine, sight-seeing, soaking up the sun in the various parks, wine tasting, classical music concerts in a chapel made almost entirely of stained glass, admiring impressionist art, and EATING! Seriously, we ate and drank so much, it was just divine. I was averaging a baguette a day, by myself. I don’t think I have to tell you how satiatingly good French food is, and it’s better that I stop thinking about it for my own sanity…but the food could very well have been my favorite part. Then again, the inevitable goodbye, which with him is every time harder than the last. As I dramatically walked through security while turning around once to say goodbye again like they do in the movies, I had to remind myself over and over just how lucky I was to be able to have had that week at all. After THAT trip, I spent another few weeks in my village just coasting—Gogo group meetings, Girls club, chipping away on the library, but mostly just trying to survive the Post Vacation Depression and look forward to the next big thing. The next big thing was fortunately only a stones throw away, as I and a few others from my group facilitated a Lifeskills and Permagarden training for the SA23 group for a week at a nice hotel in Pretoria. Our basic function was to help train this group and their South African counterparts on how to teach lifeskills to the youth in their community. We talked about our personal experiences teaching lifeskills, and I yet again got all teary eyed talking about Camp GLOW and forced my friends to watch our 12 minute slideshow. I had attended this training with Sbongile 2 last year in Durban. Our hotel was on the beach and several of our sessions took place out there. Sorry bout it SA23. Now, I’m back in the vil for good. Well, at least until my next trip ;) My short term goal is to have the library up and running by next month. Unfortunately all of our computers in the new computer lab were stolen earlier this month, so we are working on increasing our security and finding a way to get more computers to use. Eish. There are plans in the mix for expanding the Gogo group. We were fortunate enough to be the beneficiaries of the practical gardening training from Peace Corps—meaning the trainees essentially created a garden as part of their training, and now the Gogos will take over and tend to it themselves. We hope to sell the vegetables as part of an income generating project, and also to save money on our food costs by using the vegetables from our garden. A coworker is trying to convince me to do one more lifeskills camp with the 7th grade girls and boys, making it a day camp during the December holidays and taking place at the school. It sounds like a good idea in theory, but I’m a little nervous about the feasibility of it. The last Camp nearly took it all out of me. I am also running an art contest turned mural project with the Jr. High. Because we already have a ‘World Map’ (very popular PC project) I decided to have the learners compete in an art contest which we will transfer to a mural on the side of the school, depicting patriotism as well as pride in their school and community. Finally, my last “big” project before I go (omg) is to put on a 3 part World Aids Day event for the community. This event will encapsulate several of my larger projects, and hopefully send the message of my purpose here. In our minds, we will be having the girls club attend an HIV and Peer Education training, then use it to spend one day teaching the learners in grades 4-6. This will hopefully give them the skills to continue peer education, as well as help them to truly learn and abide by the information. The second day will be an event, inspired by Hilcrest AIDS center, of Gogo Olympics! We hope to have around 100 Gogos form 4 teams to compete in soccer, netball, and a relay race. The general theme of this day will be healthy and positive living, and it will be a great wrap-up of the year we have spent together emphasizing those issues. Finally, the event will summit on the third day with a HIV awareness and testing campaign, which will be an event for the whole community. I’m having the Girls Club help in planning this event, both so that they get experience planning a community event, but also so that the youth will come ;). Much like our World Aids Day event last year, we will have guest speakers, HIV education, testing and counseling, and entertainment provided by the community. This 3 day event is going to be a lot of work, stress, anger, happiness, failure, and success, but I’m excited about the possibility of what it could be. As I start planning for my “last big project”, it means that I have to start thinking about the fact that in 6 months this will no longer be my life. I will save those musings for a later, more introspective post, but all that I can think right now is, OH EM GEE! Thus, I leave you with the quote that has gotten me through the struggles and periods of doubt over my past year and a half. I promise that I will not be so absent in the months to come, mostly because I’m sure that you as well as starting to get nervous about the fact that you only have 6 more months of my blog to spend long nights walking on the beach and drinking wine with. Peace good people. “I have learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel” -Maya Angelou

After almost a week of 12+ hours of sleep, I finally feel that I’ve regained my strength and my sanity after a camp that was in one word: incredible. Though I feel I will be continuing to process this experience for a long time to come, I wanted to write down everything before I forgot it, as I tend to do. For those who don’t know, this past week was the culmination of my biggest project as a PCV yet: a girls’ empowerment camp focusing on HIV/Aids, safe and smart sexual decision making, healthy relationships, and self-esteem. The camp was comprised of 15 girls from my village, and 15 from the village of a good friend and fellow PCV named Wendy. Wendy and I taught the majority of the sessions, with help from a few guest speakers and 4 amazing PCV friends who acted as counselors for the girls and also helped us in running a few of our sessions and most of our activities. We definitely could not have had such a wonderful camp without their help, and I am so grateful for them! We could not have asked for a more beautiful location- situated in between the Blyde River and the Drakensberg mountains, there was breathtaking landscape any direction that you looked. The campsite was called the Blyde River Adventure Center, which specializes in camps for South African youth and gave us a great discount to use their facilities. The camp was conducted entirely in English, and I was so impressed at how all of the girls tried their hardest to speak in English, and we would even hear them speaking English with each other when we weren’t in sessions. It was important for us to do the camp in English, partly because we had girls speaking different African languages present, but mostly because English is critical in South Africa. You cannot have a job without knowing basic English, and learners are taught primarily in English from high school onwards. I’ve seen an incredible improvement in several of the girls from my club in the year we’ve been working together, and enjoyed watching them grow even more over the course of the week. The camp was a huge success. We were fortunate enough to have our biggest problems be that our travel took longer than anticipated, and that we didn’t have as much food as we would have liked—these girls can EAT! We arrived 2 hours late on the first day and had to scramble to shift our schedule around to accommodate for the poor girls from Wendy’s village who had been waiting 4 hours for us to arrive. We started off by playing a volleyball game called Nuke’Em, and then announced the cabin assignments. Each PCV counselor was in charge of one cabin of 7-8 girls, and we had bandanas in 4 different colors for each cabin, which the girls and their counselor wore the entire week. We did our best to split the girls up from their friends, encouraging them to be more open to meeting the new girls and also being more willing to share seriously without the worry of what their friends might think. This ended up working really well, and I was really impressed and excited with how the girls came together to support each other whether it was helping with English, shyness, swimming in the river, or homesickness. After spending some time getting to know their cabins and make nametags (kids here LOVE arts and crafts), Wendy’s South African counterpart led a session on stereotyping and discrimination, encouraging the girls to accept those who are different than them and to treat each other differently. Given that it was absolutely freezing, everybody was exhausted, and we were still trying to find our groove, after we ate dinner we did a short session on developing the rules of the camp (one being that if you are late to any session you have to do a dance in front of the group), we decided to scrap our 2 planned sessions/activities and just let the girls relax in their cabins and enjoy the camp. It was a good thing we did too, for they needed every bit of energy they had for the fast pace and loads of information that we threw at them for the rest of the week. After the girls “went to bed” (we slept in a different area than the girls, and regardless of our lights out policy we heard reports of girls screaming songs at the top of their lungs until midnight), Wendy, I and the counselors regrouped and planned for the next day. Our first our first full day of camp started bright and early at 7 AM with morning yoga led by Wendy. Though it was absolutely frigid until the sun really came out, the girls enjoyed practicing headstands and sun salutations on the grass while facing the gorgeous Drakensberg mountains. I think my girls in particular liked having Wendy for a teacher, so they could get a break from me and at the same time realize that other people do yoga too…it’s not only crazy Sbongile. The sessions on this day were all about the reproductive system and safe sex. Though we did highlight that abstinence is the best contraception- it is clear by the high rates of teenage pregnancy (girls are getting pregnant and having children as young as age 13), and conversations that I have had with several of the girls prior to camp, that girls are in large numbers are already sexually active and do not have the proper information on keeping themselves safe. We emphasized that we weren’t encouraging them to have sex, but that it was necessary they have this information for whenever they did decide it was time. So to start off our day we had them do Body Mapping- where they divided into groups and drew the reproductive parts of the male and female body, labeled them, and then presented their information to the group. I was happy to see that most of them actually placed the labels in the correct places, and knew for the most part the function of each part. After that we had a guest speaker, Patience, who is a nurse at a hospital nearby the campsite. She was absolutely amazing and the girls loved her. It was very helpful to have an expert on the topic come and talk so that we ensured the girls had all of the correct information and correct answers to their VERY detailed questions. Though they were able to label the reproductive parts almost perfectly, I was struck by how many questions they had, and how basic many of them were. This proved to me that most of these girls did not have a big grasp on what is happening inside of their bodies. After Patience explained the functions of all of the reproductive parts of the male and female bodies, she did a session on contraception and safe sex. She went into detail about the different kinds of contraception available, emphasizing that due to the availability and negligible cost of contraception even in the village, pregnancy should not be an issue for any of these girls. Along with the girls, Patience did demonstrations of the male and female condoms. The girls were engaged and participating the whole time, and if they weren’t interested in the information they had a great time blowing the condoms up into balloons. We finished up the session with a Question and Answer time, where the girls could ask anything they wanted. We had them write down their questions because we knew that it would be hard for some girls to ask in front of the group. Some of the questions that really surprised me were myths that are more popular around the community than I realized; these myths range from strange cocktails to terminate pregnancies to notions of if you cheat on your boyfriend by sleeping with another man you will both get very sick). We were very open with the girls, encouraging them to use the proper words and not to giggle when doing so. As I’ve mentioned before, the African languages don’t even have vocabulary words for our reproductive parts, which testifies to the willingness of the older generations to discuss it with their children. This leaves youth having no idea that you get pregnant by having unprotected sex, and using words like cake and stick to refer to the vagina and penis. We finished off those sessions by noting again that we weren’t encouraging the girls to be sexually active in any way, but that we thought it was necessary that they be prepared with the proper information and where they should go to receive it for whenever the time comes. A definite highlight of the camp was watching the girls perform short dramas/skits about the various topics we were discussing. For this day we did a session on peer pressure, asking the girls their thoughts on the issue and emphasizing that though it would be hard, they don’t always have to let their friends influence them into things that they aren’t ready for. To have them practice saying no, we divided them into 6 groups and gave each a scenario somehow related to saying no to peer pressure (drugs, alcohol, sex, etc). The girls were phenomenal in these skits, and we could tell that they really loved performing as well. It was also a great way to involve the girls who were less likely to participate in the larger group sessions. The girls were all wonderful actresses and each of the dramas were funny and entertaining yet showed strong understanding of the issue and the groups’ forcefulness in saying no. The girls would feed off of the positive reaction and laughter from the audience and the dramas tended to last longer than they should of, but we enjoyed giving the girls an opportunity to showcase their talents and have fun while learning. We ended by reminding the girls that while it may be fun and easy to say no in a pretend drama in front of all of their friends, it is almost never that easy in real life. Sometimes you lose your friends, sometimes everybody at school gossips about you, but what is most important is that you are true to yourself. My favorite part of the day was the initiation ceremony that we did to induct the girls officially as GLOW Girls. We originally planned to have this as our first session (which definitely would have been more dramatic), but due to our late arrival we had to push it back to the second day. The ceremony had 3 parts, each of which symbolized something different. We gave the girls a charm necklace, and with every step that they completed they got a new charm. To begin, we sat together in a circle on the grass and I gave a short speech on sisterhood and why it is important that as women we love and support each other. Wendy, the counselors, and our counterparts then stood up one at a time to say what sisterhood meant to them. This was followed by most of the girls then standing up at different times to say how they viewed sisterhood. For this part we gave the girls a charm of a hand, which symbolized supporting your sisters whenever they need a helping hand. The second part of the ceremony was the most fun (and terrifying) for most of the girls. The camp has a tightrope that stretches across the length of the river, and the girls had to cross it while holding onto a similar tightrope above their heads. Most of these girls have never swam in water before, much less something that is not a swimming pool. Most of the girls tried the rope, and many were successful at crossing, but we had a few who were so scared that they were brought to tears, and some who didn’t refused to try. For this step we gave them a charm of a heart, representing fun and scary experiences shared with friends. Finally, we had a more serious part in which, back at camp, we stood in a circle and each girl went around and said something that she was excited about for camp, and something that she was nervous for. After a girl spoke we would light her candle, until everyone had theirs lit and we joined together to sing a song. We emphasized their willingness to keep an open-mind throughout the camp, to try new things and to be open to learning new information regardless of their excitements or fears. For this session we gave each girl a charm of an AIDS ribbon, which symbolized their commitment to learning this week and supporting each other in their successes and failures. We encouraged them to think about the things they learned and experienced at camp every time they looked at or wore their necklaces. This initiation ceremony was a special time designed for us to be honest with each other, and to expose our vulnerabilities so that we could all see that we weren’t so different from each other after all. We finished off this long and exciting day by showing the movie, Stomp the Yard. There was no real ethical value or lesson to be taught through this movie, but we thought it would be fun for the girls to watch—since not everybody is as fluent in English, often times youth will watch movies and have no idea what is happening. This movie was mostly dancing, so the girls were able to follow it and most of them loved it. The next day was my favorite. I think this was because it was the smoothest—we had finally gotten used to the logistics and timing, as well as what the girls were and were not receptive to; we had found our rhythm. Due to the cold we substituted yoga for kickboxing, which was a huge hit and a lot of fun. Wendy led the girls in about 45 minutes of basic cardio kickboxing, punching and kicking and squatting and making them beg to stop because they were so tired. It was a great way to wake up and beat the cold. The theme of this day was relationships, and our morning session for this day was led by Wendy and aimed to help the girls identify healthy and unhealthy relationships, then further understand what they deserve in a relationship. We did dramas/skits with them again, allowing them to visualize different forms of healthy/unhealthy relationships. Though these were more personal, the girls again did a great job of acting out appropriate responses to different obstacles that they may face while in romantic relationships. In a society that is most often dominated by men, girls and women often grow up believing that an abusive relationship is acceptable, normal, or the best that they can get. We hoped that by acting out different scenarios, the girls would get practice at saying “I deserve better”, as well as feeling outraged while watching injustices done to their friends. I wasn’t completely sure that they were following, but at lunchtime we were playing different music, and the popular Rihanna/Eminem song “Love the Way You Lie” came on. One girl looked at a counselor and said, “Isn’t this an example of an unhealthy relationship?” Yes! I was so happy to hear her say that, because I often am shocked by the music the kids are listening to and don’t seem to have any concern for what the lyrics are actually saying (do I sound like a mom yet?). Every day we gave them an hour to do journaling. We bought them each journals, knowing that this wouldn’t be something that most of them already owned. We had them decorate the journals on the first night so that they might seem a little more appealing. Each day we provided them with journal topics that could help to direct them if they needed it. As an avid journal writer, I was ecstatic to see how well some of the girls took to it. We all need some alone time during the day, to process what we are thinking, experiencing, feeling. These girls are experiencing a lot of emotions and changes, and I often feel like they have so much to say but no one to say it to. Community members can’t be trusted, friends will mock them, counseling is non-existent in most of the villages, and as I mentioned before talking about personal issues with parents is not often done. I really hope that they will continue to journal after camp; the one private and confidential experience they can have in a small and crowded home and village. After lunch we had a session on domestic violence. In this session we broke up into small groups lead by the counselors, knowing that the girls would be less likely to talk and share about this topic when in a large group. The unfortunate reality is that many of these girls have been victim to assault and not known what their rights were in that situation. We discussed with them the meaning of consent, and the different forms of domestic violence, wanting them to understand that abuse is not only physical. We taught them some basic self-defense moves, and talked about the realities of rape, and what their options were if they found themselves in that situation. We encouraged them to tell their stories to someone they trust, or to write it in their journals if they couldn’t find that person, for being able to talk about a painful or traumatic experience is one of the first steps in moving from a victim to a survivor. Several of the girls shared their stories to us throughout the week, and I was astounded and inspired by their bravery. In the afternoon they were given free time, and the girls mostly used it to go swimming again. Those who had made it across the rope the day before didn’t actually get a chance to swim, so they capitalized on this opportunity. Now when I say swim, for the majority of them I mean wading in knee deep (and freezing cold) water screaming about how scared they were. Only a few of the girls braved the small rapid that carried them about 50 feet down the river. They were so much fun to watch and I was proud of many of the girls who I knew were scared for facing their fears and getting in the water. Other girls spent the time dancing or doing arts and crafts. In the evening we continued with our sessions, and I led one in delaying sex/pregnancy and decision making. We talked about some questions to contemplate to help yourself realize if you are ready to be sexually active, and strategies that one can use to delay until we are, as well as options for pregnancy. My South African counterpart talked about how she had a baby at age 16, and how it changed her life. When reading the evaluations we had the girls fill out at the end of camp, I came across one comment in which a girl wrote, “This camp helped me to realize I can reach my goals but I have to work for them. I thought I would lose my virginity at age 14 but now I have decided to wait until I finish school.” This is HUGE! One of my favorite sessions was the last of the evening, in which we had 2 guest speakers. One was a mid-20s South African male, and the other was a mid-20s Peace Corps Volunteer. They spent some time talking about what it is like to be a 15 year old boy—what they are experiencing, what they are feeling, and what they are really thinking about. I essentially wanted the girls to realize that 15 year old boys and girls are on very different pages. After they said their pieces, the girls we able to ask them questions. The first one was “Why do men leave their families to go off and start new ones?” followed up by “Why do men cheat? Am I not satisfying you?” The girls asked some pretty challenging questions, and I think they got some great answers. When asked what they learned that was most valuable, one girl responded “A guy will say almost anything to me in order to get me to sleep with him!” The day ended with a teambuilding activity where the girls were blindfolded and had to help each other cross an obstacle course while holding onto a rope. After we built a campfire, and the girls spent hours singing traditional songs and dancing around the fire. It was a beautiful experience and one that I will never forget. We just let them be, not wanting to interfere by suggesting one song or dance. So we sat up above and just watched them have an amazing time. They then started singing songs and would call out our names, requesting us to do a special dance. This counselor dancing went on for much longer than it should have, but I was particularly proud of my Zulu kick. The girls “went to bed” exhausted and happy, and I really enjoyed being able to blend cultural South African life with experiences of mine from home. The theme of the next day was Self-Esteem. We started off the morning with a session led by my counterpart in which the girls spent time writing positive and encouraging affirmations to each other on papers fastened to their backs. The girls then went around in a circle and were given the chance to read some of the nice things that people said. The girls loved doing this, and it was a great opportunity to build each other up as I often hear people saying only negative things to each other in the village. We led the girls in a discussion about the activity, and when I asked what they thought about it, one of my girls responded “I was scared that people would write mean things because I know I can be very strict, but I was really excited to see the nice things that people wrote”. Each of the girls present at camp was amazing for so many different reasons, and we wanted to help them realize that. Self-esteem is something that we all struggle with, and I believe having confidence in yourself can allow you to achieve your goals and accomplish things without letting negative comments or opinions get in the way. After journaling and lunch we took the girls on a long hike alongside the river (where we spotted a hippo!) and through the mountains. My main reason for wanting to take the girls all the way to Limpopo (a 6 hour drive) was so that they could experience the feeling of accomplishment after hiking a mountain. We have hills in our area, but nothing close to mountains, and I know that most of the girls won’t end up traveling very far from home in their lives. The mountains were absolutely beautiful, and though I think we may have overestimated their stamina and hiking desire/ability, it was a fun experience in which we were able to see a lot of different animals and beautiful sites. The evening session was about community service—something that is so crucial to helping the development of these villages but that I do not see emphasized in any form. Many people that I have come across refuse to do any work for the community without monetary compensation, or others don’t feel like they have the resources or information to help their community. We discussed the definition and necessity of community service, and then allowed the girls to come up with project plans for different community projects. We will be selecting the best idea and will be providing a small amount of money to help the girls realize this project idea over the next 6 months. Some of the ideas were community clean-up/trashcans, providing school uniforms for the orphans, and educating the younger learners in lifeskills. I look forward to working with them over the remainder of my time here to make these ideas a reality. An experience that I will always remember is what we did later that night around the campfire. We called it an “I Can’t Funeral”, and motivated the girls to write down things that others or themselves have said that they cannot do. We talked about the importance of believing in ourselves, in not letting others take our joy from us, and of knowing that if we try hard enough we can do anything. The girls wrote down the things that people have said they cannot do, and some shared, and then we threw them into the fire to signify the complete removal of those negative oppressions in our lives. Several of the girls had filled up both sides of the paper with things that people have told them they can’t do. We then went around the circle, again with candles, and each said something that we CAN do. Among the responses were “I can finish school without having a baby”, “I can fix the problems in my life”, “I can choose my future”, and “People tell me that I don’t deserve a husband because I’m ugly, but I know that it is what is inside that is important”. This quickly became very emotional, and several of the girls were brought to tears when thinking about the struggles in their lives, but lifted by their feelings of empowerment by discarding the I Can’ts and focusing on the I Cans. I am time and again motivated and inspired by the strength and perseverance of these girls. Most of these girls have struggled through lives more discouraging than I will ever know, and still get up each day to try and achieve their goals. I was brought to tears as well upon hearing the ‘I Can’s’ from some of my girls who I know have been having a difficult time at home. We spent the rest of the night roasting marshmellows over the fire and teaching the girls how to make S’mores. Our final full day of camp was bittersweet. We were in the full swing of things and having an incredible experience filled with knowledge, laughter, love, and strength, yet we had all begun to realize that camp was almost at its end. Despite the fact that many of us leaders were losing our voices or couldn’t fathom jumping up and down in excitement during yet another icebreaker, our energy level increased exponentially through the excitement of the girls. The theme of our last day was HIV/Aids. If I could do it again, I probably would have done this day earlier in the week, as by the last day the girls’ heads were so full of information that they seemed to be a little sessioned-out. But as we talked about the origins of HIV and Aids, modes of transmissions, risky and non-risky behaviors, and myths/facts of HIV/Aids, I could tell the girls were just as interested as the other days. We lead them through a few exercises to try and really make them understand what it would feel like to be living with HIV. Again, we had them do scenarios that depicted what it might be like to go and test for HIV and get a negative result or a positive result, how someone can live a healthy life with HIV, and the realities of disclosing one’s status to family and friends. Though these were more somber than the others, the girls had great ideas and I was impressed with the ideas that they came up with. Our main goal in these activities was to get the girls thinking in new ways about HIV/Aids. There are endless government campaigns, lessons in schools, and NGO outreaches that aim to teach youth in South Africa about HIV and Aids. However what I’ve come to see in my time here is that everyone knows the answers to the questions (What does HIV stand for, how is it passed on, etc), yet nobody’s behavior is changing. South Africa is still one of the countries with the highest HIV rates and I have witnessed it first hand destroying the lives of citizens and the local and global level. So we were hoping to get the girls to understand the realities of living with HIV and how they can care for and support those who are, instead of feeding them the same information that they already seemed to know. We have the information, now we need behavior change. We had 3 guests this day from a local NGO. One was a man who motivated the girls to test for HIV, talked about living a positive and healthy life with HIV, and then opened up for a question and answer session. The other two were lay counselors who agreed to stay for the remainder of the day and test the girls for HIV whenever they wanted to come in. I was ecstatic to see 20 of the 30 girls go and test. Though the results are supposed to be confidential, the counselors told us at the end of the day that all of the girls had tested negative. We were overjoyed, and happy to give the girls an opportunity outside of the confines of the village to realize what it is like to go and test, and to realize that it really isn’t that scary. We ended camp with a bang- a talent show and dance party. The girls spent the afternoon getting ‘camp portraits’ (one of our counselors is a wonderful photographer), decorating their camp t-shirts, and preparing for the talent show. Though we were absolutely exhausted by this point, the talent show was a huge hit. To ensure that everybody was included, we required that each cabin had to come up with an entry. Not to anyone’s surprise, they all chose to do a dance to the same popular house (techno-esque) song. To be funny, we (the counselors) all did a traditional Zulu dance, and then put on the same house song and mimicked their dance moves. The girls loved it. The rest of the show displayed more dances, songs, skits, and my personal favorite- poetry readings of beautiful poems that some of the girls had written while at camp. These poems were about changing the world, disparities between the rich and poor, and an inspiration for the girls to not give up on their goals and dreams. Watching the girls perform was amazing to me. They are all SO talented in more ways than one. I loved watching their faces light up as they performed. Most of these high schools do not have clubs, and certainly do not have opportunities for the youth to compete against each other, so it was a great chance to have the girls display their talents for each other. We chose a first and second place winner for each category (cabin, individual, and group), and gave them some fun prizes we had picked up in town. The night ended with a dance party, signing our names on the camp t-shirts, and taking tons of pictures to make sure we always remembered the week. One of the most gratifying moments for me, was at the very end of the night when two girls (one from each of our villages) sang Wendy and I a song about their lives having been changed, and then gave a short speech of thanks and appreciation for the week. Then all of the girls joined in a song a dance to say thank you, and each came up to us in a line to shake our hands and hug us, telling us how much they loved us and how thankful they are. Yes, it made me cry! The last morning of camp was spent de-briefing the week, filling out evaluation forms, and watching the slideshow that one of our counselors made for the girls of the week. They loved seeing their faces pop up on the projector screen and screamed out every time they saw themselves. We had the girls write a letter to themselves about what they had learned this week, what they were thinking and feeling, how they had changed, and what they wanted for their futures. We plan to give these back to the girls in 6 months or so, so that they can remember the experience but also so that they can hold themselves accountable to what they were dreaming while at camp. It is so easy to say and do certain things while you are away from home, with the safety of friends, and not subject to the normal stressors and pressures of daily life. We gave our closing comments, stating that what Wendy and I want more than anything is for this to be an experience that they remember forever; we want them to take the knowledge and fun they had this week and apply it to their lives when they return home. I told them that since we were so far away from home, they had become my family and I was grateful for each one of them. Yes, I teared up again. We all said our goodbyes and my group was on the road home by 10 a.m. so that we could get home before dark. 6 hours of blasting house music and screaming girls later, we arrived back in the village and I said goodbye to the girls and goodbye to an incredible experience. I never want to forget the way that I’m feeling now, right after camp and as I write this. This was the first time that I really felt fully justified in my time here; I can now go home knowing that I made a significant impact and difference in the lives of many. I never want to forget the love and joy that I experienced this week. I never want to forget the bonds and friendships that I have made with the girls over the past year, that culminated in the emotional experience of this week. I am so grateful for this Peace Corps experience, for these inspiring girls, and for the chance to hold this amazing camp that will forever be a part of my life.Please click here to see pictures that can do better justice to the week than my words. Thank you for all of your love and support. You helped change the lives of these girls!

I sit here in my hut, feeling nervous, excited, stressed, yet prepared for the camp that we will leave for in less than 3 days. We have spent countless hours writing lesson plans, organizing logistics with taxi drivers, the venue, and the girls themselves. The moment has now come where I must just ‘let go’ and hope for the best. If I have learned one thing in Peace Corps, it’s that I cannot control everything (even thought I may try my hardest to!). Things rarely go exactly as they should, so all I can do it put my best foot forward and then adapt to whatever it is that the camp decides to bring to us. The girls are excited and nervous as well, as a week long youth camp is not common out in the rural areas. It took a lot of explaining, and I’m still not 100% sure that they truly understand what is going on. However, maybe that’s better- no expectations. They have been holding a countdown since the day I told them about the camp, a countdown which excludes the week that we are currently in: for example, last week on Monday they came up to me screaming we go to camp in 2 days!! No, I corrected, a week and 2 days. No, Sbongile, this week doesn’t count! Okay… Despite the fact that I have told them numerous times that there will be no boys, and we will be the ONLY people in the camp, they all tried to convince their parents to buy them new clothes and they all re-did their hairstyles (wigs). I have boys calling me asking when they boy’s camp is going to be, for my reverse discrimination is really unfair. Ha! I’m so fortunate that I was able to provide these young girls with this opportunity. At the very least they will enjoy a week in a foreign part of the country with friendship, good food, great information, self-exploration and discovery, and a week away from the chores of cooking, cleaning, and schoolwork. As for the camp, we have worked hard over the past 2 months to provide them with the most critical information while helping them to learn in an open, laid-back, participatory, and integrative style. All of our lessons are accompanied by activities such as role-playing, student teaching, or small group discussion to delve deeper into topics that they may be afraid to discuss in the larger group. In our session about domestic violence, we are even going to teach them some basic self-defense moves! Our lessons are ranging from everything to goal-setting, stereotypes, and self confidence to safe and smart sexual decisions, peer pressure, community service, living and supporting people with HIV, what is going on in a 15 year old boy’s mind, and their rights as women and South African citizens. On the last day we have people coming to do HIV testing after a particularly meaningful session we will have discussing what it is like to live with HIV and how we can support and care for those who are. Activities range from soccer and volleyball to hiking the Drakensberg mountains, swimming in Blyde River, journaling, talent show, dance party, movie night, campfire, and morning yoga or kickboxing. There are 30 girls total, and they will be divided into 4 cabins. Each cabin will be headed by one amazing counselor (4 of our friends/fellow PCVs have donated their time and talent to lead the girls) who will lead them in cabin talks, games/icebreakers, being there when they need someone to talk to, and keeping them excited and the energy level high for all of the sessions. We were able to give each of the counselors some money to buy ‘welcome gifts’ for their cabin so that they could each have something special to remember their counselor and roommates by. The counselors decorated picture frames, made mixed CDs, created friendship bracelets, and those are only the things that I know about! We used the money that we raised for transportation, accommodation, and session materials (pens, workbooks, journals, arts/crafts activities, butcher paper, snacks, and my personal favorite: white t-shirts which they will decorate which say GLOW Girls Rock!). Thank you so much to everyone who has contributed to make this camp a possibility for these girls who will most likely never experience anything like this for the rest of their lives. Know that it will be impactful, life changing, fun, and meaningful in so many ways. These girls are so special, and they truly are the future of South Africa, capable of changing their villages, country, and even the world. Look forward to another post updating after camp is finished (and I’ve been able to catch up on my sleep). Wish me luck!!

This past weekend I was fortunate enough to get the opportunity to take 10 of the girls in my club as well as 2 teachers to attend a workshop in Johannesburg put on by Eve Ensler (author of the Vagina Monologues). Having heard from another PCV that Eve was going to be in South Africa, I e-mailed her organization as a total longshot to see if she would have any interest to come and speak at my Camp GLOW (which, by the way, is next week! More to come). Obviously, Eve came to SA with other intentions so a lovely woman responded that Eve would not be able to come, but would I be interested in bringing 10 girls to her workshop exploring her newest book, I am an Emotional Creature: The Secret life of Girls Around the World? Heck yes I would! They were able to provide us funding for the transportation, and off we went to Joburg in my host brother’s taxi bright and early Sunday morning. This picture is of Eve interviewing the girls: what do you like about being a girl, what would you do if you could do anything? The workshop was about half a day, and I really think that the girls enjoyed it. Eve lead the girls in several exercises that encouraged them to open up and start to think of how they could express themselves creatively. There was a lot of running around, a lot of yelling, and a lot of laughter. Being the only group from a rural village, I was nervous about my girls’ willingness to participate with the others (most of the 200 or so girls seemed to be from wealthy suburbs of Joburg), but they proved me wrong. They jumped right in, meeting the other girls, joining their groups, and sitting with them for the remainder of the day. One of my girls (pictured below) even got up to talk in front of the whole group about how inspiring she was finding the activities. If nothing else, it was a great chance for my girls to travel outside of the village and see what other parts of South Africa look like, and what kind of other people are living there too. After the initial exercises, Eve talked about her career and how it lead her to establishing her organization, V-day. She mentioned her inspiration for the Vagina Monologues which came from a realization that without being able to talk about our bodies, we would never be able to ask the proper questions and get the proper information that would ensure we made healthy decisions and treated ourselves with respect. Though this was decades ago in America, I am noticing the same problems here. As I’ve mentioned before, it is considered disrespectful to talk to your parents about anything have to do with sex. Most of the African languages don’t eve have vocabulary for the reproductive parts; instead they refer to the penis as a stick and the vagina as cake. As a result of this, girls (and boys) are left without any idea of what is happening to their bodies or any real understanding of the consequences of sexual decisions. Sex talks are briefly brushed over in Life Orientation classes at school, so any information you learn is subject to how seriously your teacher wants to take the issues. Because of this, I thought it was really great that these girls could hear her story, and I’m sure even they were shocked the first few times she said the word vagina. After years of performing the Vagina Monologues and subsequently hearing the life stories of scores of women around the world, Eve decided to start an organization called V-day (V stands for Victory, Vagina, and Valentine) that would seek to end violence against girls and women around the world. V-day conducts awareness campaigns, stages events on Valentines Day every year, and raises money to fund local organizations that are working on behalf of girls and women in several countries. V-day has a branch that is dedicated just for girls, which they call V-girls. This is a special place where girls around the world can connect, blog, and help each other to create awareness or action events for people in their communities and farther. Unfortunately none of my girls have access to the internet, but I encouraged them that they would be welcome to use my computer if they wanted to keep in touch with girls they had met that day. What I really admire about Eve, besides the fact that she is an innovator and willing to push the status quo, is that I feel like her career embodies what we are called to do: combining and using our talents and passions to leave the world a better place. She takes her gift of writing and art and is using it to speak to girls and women around the world, helping them to understand and love themselves, and speak/act out against injustices that they are facing. Meeting and hearing from her was truly inspirational. The second half of the workshop was focused on Eve’s new book, I am an Emotional Creature. This book is a call for girls around the world to love themselves as they are, and to be okay with expressing themselves in whatever way they need: i.e., it’s okay to be emotional. From issues of not being able to afford the latest trends, to eating disorders, to nervous sexual encounters, to atrocities of child labor and rape, the book speaks to everyone. It is a compilation of poems and monologues written from the perspective of teenage girls in several different countries. The book displays the struggles of these girls, and woven into the monologues is the inherent strength, power, and desire to beat the odds that we as girls and women possess. The book ends with a call from Eve, not to be afraid to love yourself for exactly who you are, and not to accept anything less than what will make you truly content and fulfilled. Eve and several of the girls who are performing in the play adapted from this book did readings of the monologues for the girls at the workshop. One was about a young girl who was nervous to ask her boyfriend to wear a condom the first time they have sex, only to find out that he was nervous as well. The second was much more intense, a monologue that outlined the advice of a young girl who was a survivor of sex slavery. I saw that both of the monologues had a profound impact on my girls, as I know that those are both issues that several of them have dealt with. The workshop concluded, much like the book, with a motivation from Eve to stand up for their rights, and to take ownership over their bodies, present situations, and futures. I believe that the girls took a lot away from the workshop, feeling just a little more empowered to know that they are equal to all of those around them, and that they have the ability to choose their futures. Afterward we were all given copies of the book, which I hope to work through with the girls and maybe this fall actually put on a production of the play at the high school with the help of the 2 teachers that I brought as well. As we were leaving, my host brother drove up to pick us up, blaring, as usual, house (techno) music loud enough for the whole city to hear. Our group started having a small dance party outside the taxi, and we were joined by Eve (picture above)! The girls really loved meeting her and spending the day doing crazy activities to express themselves, and I am so happy that I got the opportunity to bring them there. (Picture to the right, our group with Eve!)

Without a doubt, one of the most salient highlights of my service has been my relationship with my host family. They have been such a blast to learn from, converse with, and spend long days doing nothing alongside.

The first day that I arrived at their home, it was my second week being in Peace Corps and I was scared out of my mind. How often do you just show up at the front door of a family that you know nothing about, can barely communicate with, and expect everything to be chill? From the first day, they have welcomed me into their family, giving me my African name of Sbongile Thubana (Thubana is their surname), showing me how to wash clothes with my hands, pick the ripe mangoes off of the tree in the yard, killing the spiders for me when I'm scared, and sharing soda or snacks when they have extra.

I have been so blessed to have them be a part of my experience here, and I know that one of the hardest things about finishing my service will be leaving them. The members of the family that live at home with me are the Gogo and Mkhulu (Grandma and Grandpa), 3 siblings who are around my age- May, Guphi, and Bena, and 3 small children- Collen who is 5, Mxolisi (the subject of many of my posts) who is 2, and Lisadie who just celebrated her first birthday (picture below). My family is fun, generous, sympathetic, outrageous, and wonderful. I will never forget waking up to the babies pounding on my door, barging into my room and subsequently destroying everything in their path, laughing with Gogo at something inexplicably ridiculous that I'm doing- like tanning in the yard or burning candles during the day-dance parties outside of May's taxi when he arrives home from work blasting his music loud enough for the whole village to hear, eating their food and pretending to like it, then watching them do the exact same thing to me when I cook for them; but most of all, those subtle realizations that I am really part of the family like when my sister decides she isn't going to help me do my laundry anymore, I am asked to help set up and clean up after the birthday parties (instead of being the guest of honor), or Gogo tells me that I no longer have to pay her for my monthly use of electricity.

They've seen me laugh, cry, celebrate successes, and be frustrated over failures; helped me with projects, hung out with me when I was lonely, and left me alone when I didn't want to talk to anyone. I could not have asked for a better family to teach me the culture of ubuntu (a concept of common humanity) characteristic of much of South Africa.

So, after years of being involved with UCLA’s Relay for Life and having the job of convincing hundreds of people to cut 10 inches off of their hair to donate to those suffering from cancer and in need of a wig, last night I finally took the plunge and did it myself. Since I was in high school I have wanted to do this, but was apparently too vain or too attached to my luscious locks to actually do it. So I’ve been growing my hair over the past year and last night a good friend of mine cut 10 inches off of my hair so that I could donate it to the Pantene Beautiful Lengths campaign that works with the American Cancer Society to create wigs and gives them for free to those in need. I’m happy that I was finally able to let go of my attachment to my hair and do something with it that could potentially bring much joy or comfort to someone else. So in honor of Father’s Day, I do this in honor of my Grandpa Jack who lost the battle to cancer a few years ago. If you’ve already skipped below to the pictures, you’ve probably realized that my hair isn’t even that short and therefore I should stop making such a big deal. And I probably should, but for the girl who hasn’t had her hair above her shoulders since elementary school, the short is definitely taking some getting used to.

As you may have gathered from my previous complaint ridden posts, South Africa really only has two temperatures: ‘boiling’ and ‘I can’t feel my toes’. No, these temperatures are not equal to or more extreme than many states in the US or countries around the world, but they are exacerbated by my lack of ability to mitigate the conditions: i.e. air conditioning or central heating. My hut has a thatch roof which is wonderful in the summer because it keeps the majority of the heat out (most people live with tin roofs which effectively turns the house into a convection oven for the majority of the summer), but the massive gaps between the door/windows and the walls allow the brutal air to creep through during winter. I imagine that what I feel after the sun goes down in May/June/July is comparable to that of the long days and nights that Rose and Jack spent waiting for a rescue boat. Temperatures reach below freezing in my area, and only this year did I really take the necessary measures to keep myself feeling as though I was not actually completely submerged in an icy ocean in the middle of the night. Yes, I am being dramatic. Recently I bought a heater, which is pointed directly at my face and approximately 1 foot from it. Last week, I bought an electric blanket which has changed my life and made getting up for work especially difficult. My typical night outfit consists of: long underwear top and bottoms, sweat pants, sweatshirt, two pairs of socks, ugg moccasins, and if things are really getting crazy I will also wear a hat and gloves. Sometimes I turn my oven on and just sit in front of it if the heater isn’t doing it for me. Ironically enough, I actually love the winter here, and have been experimenting with different soups and delicious teas. And as much as I’m complaining now, I absolutely do not want summer to come one day earlier than it absolutely has to. So as you sit on the beach drinking your frappacinno this summer, please make sure to send me some warm vibes and maybe some mental hot chocolate. In case you have forgotten what I look like: here is a picture of me in my hat.

You must by now actually be wondering what I have been doing IN the village, you know...what your tax dollars are actually contributing to apart from my fabulous vacations. Well you are in luck, because things are as busy as ever. Before reading this post, I would like you to learn the Zulu term, Sizobona. It means, we will see. I could try counting the number of times in a day I say that, but I think I would lose count and you wouldn’t really care to know anyway. My point is, some things that I’m doing are really wonderful. Some are supposed to be wonderful, but they never end up happening. Some were never planned, but end up being wonderful. Some are just flat out the worst. If I’ve learned one thing over the past year as a PCV, it’s that things will never go exactly the way I want them to. So instead of freaking out and crying when my co-workers aren’t at work by 9:01 a.m., I’ve adjusted to a much more laissez-faire attitude, and I take each day and experience for what it is. And what it becomes, sizobona.

Things you already know about:

The Gogo group: The support group is going strong, and each meeting brings new participants and more questions and discussion than the last. This week we had a record high of 30 attendees, and a record high of 3 questions being asked on health topics unrelated to what we were discussing. In case this seems small, you should know that this is HUGE. Many people are very reluctant to talk about personal issues in public, and the idea of a support group is foreign to them. In fact, the first few meetings consisted of me talking about my problems and women sighing or groaning in relation to my pain, but not offering anything up of their own. Finally I wised up and realized that this would have to come, and we devised a routine that makes them more comfortable, in which we “lecture” on an aspect of health education for about 30 minutes and then ask some discussion questions. Afterwards, we quiz them to make sure that they understood or were listening. To hear them ask questions about other things they are struggling with or unclear on, is wonderful and I definitely consider it a breakthrough. My day is instantly turned around when a Gogo from the group spots me from across the road and proceeds to scream out a song or dance that we did in one of our meetings. AND, I brought the beaded AIDS ribbons that they had made to the Health Symposium and thanks to the generosity of other volunteers and PC staff, made over $100 for the Gogos to take home as personal and independent income. Yebo Gogo! Girls Club: Also going strong. Due to graduations and some of the girls realizing after 7 months of meetings that I’m not actually as cool as they think I am, we added about 10 new members. It has been a lot of fun getting to know new girls and they add a great dynamic to the group. We have 30 yoga mats and we have impromptu classes other than the scheduled Wednesday for whenever girls decide they want to do it (best news ever: i found out that some of the girls got together and did it themselves while i was away on vacation. Yahoo!). What I love the most, however, is their willingness to finally open up to me and talk to me about serious issues that are affecting them at home and at school; issues that they may not have anyone else to talk to about it.

Things you may not know about:

Computer classes: Late last year I found out that the Jr. High that I am helping to build a library, was also stocked with 10 computers that had just been sitting at someone’s home for the past year because none of the teachers know how to use them. I finally forced the principal to bring them in, emphasizing the fact that I won’t be here next year (omg) to help teach and train. I honestly thought it was never going to happen until one day I show up at the school and all of the computers are inside and set up and oh I’m supposed to be ready to teach tomorrow. Who would have thought. After discussing that tomorrow probably isn’t best but I can be ready by next month, we agreed, fixed all of the virus racked computers, created a time table of when and how the classes will be conducted, and spread the word to the kids about what a treat they were in for. Well, Monday is that day. I’m excited to start, but am also pretty nervous due to my aforementioned rational fear of adolescent boys, combined with the fact that I know I’m not a great teacher. But regardless, Monday is approaching and I no longer have any excuses to put it off. Sizobona! Pen Pal Exchange: My friend Eric has been doing Teach for America in LA for the past two years. We decided that s neat project could be for our students to participate in a letter writing pen-pal exchange. I remember having a pen-pal in third grade, I think she was from Japan and that’s all I remember but I do know that I really liked it. So last week the 6th grade English class that I sometimes work with wrote letters to each of his 5th grade class. The kids loved it, and though there will definitely be some cultural confusions and literacy issues (one kid wrote that his “fafored color is red”), I’m really excited to see what Eric’s class responses are. Some letters were pretty lame (the cool kids in the back don’t need pen-pals, they have mp3 players with Rihanna’s new song to listen to instead) but some kids got really into it and described their experiences as South Africans and how interested they were in meeting kids from America. I’m hoping we can set up some kind of Skype session once more contact has been established. Camp Glow: This will be my major project for the next two months. Another PCV and I are planning on holding a 5 day leadership camp in July for the girls in our Girls Clubs. At her site in Limpopo, she is working with a similar group of girls to build knowledge of basic life-skills and help the girls in realizing their goals and dreams while achieving empowerment. I have really high hopes for the camp, (GLOW stands for Girls Leading Our World), and we have some great ideas on how to make this a unique and memorable experience for the girls. Many PCVs around the world conduct camps like this and I’ve seen them to be a highlight of service for those whom I know. I promise it won’t be another two months before you receive 20 updates from me again. Until then, e-mail me and tell me what the heck is up with you! Lots of love.

I think that the understatement of the year would be to tell you that South Africa loves Easter. I love Easter too, but they looooooove Easter. So much, that we get practically 3 days of extra holidays, and the entire country shuts down. Thursday, let’s call it Good Friday eve, becomes a half day, meaning organizations and schools either close or work until about 10 a.m. (after opening at 9:30 a.m.), and then decide to close. Nothing can or will be done until next week Tuesday. Good Friday is a holiday, then the Monday after Easter is “family day” (no I don’t know what that means). The timing of Easter this year was extremely convenient (thanks sun or orbit of the moon or whatever it is that dictates the date of Easter) and happened to collide with an array of other holidays such as: well I don’t actually no what they are but NO WORK! Most organizations and schools were closed from Thursday April 21 (Good Friday eve) until Tuesday, May 2nd. Even though I had just been gone for almost two weeks due to MST and the Health Symposium (see below posts), everybody else leaves the village for Easter and I always do what everybody else does, so..vacation!!

Three friends and I decided to fly to Zambia to see one of the 7 natural wonders of the world (yes I googled it to make sure my bragging is justified), Victoria Falls. The falls are absolutely enormous and beautiful, and at this time of year are so mighty and full of water that at many angles you can only see the mist from the falls. After entering the park, there are 3 different trails that you can take, one leads pretty much under the waterfalls (I’ve heard you can do this in Niagra falls, but I’ve never been so don’t take my word for it) and you get absolutely soaked to the bone. It is pretty awesome, and..free shower. Another leads you on a walk along the outside, where you can see the falls from several different angles, and much farther away so you can get a better idea of how big and expansive they are. Our favorite was the hike down to what is called the “Boiling Point” where the water creates whirlpools and you can see the path of the water through a beautiful gorge after it falls off of the cliffs. Unfortunately the water was too high at this time of year to do white water rafting (but, been there done that) or what is called the Devils Pool. My sources say that Devil’s Pool is literally a group of pools on the top/edge of the falls, that are surrounded by rocks and you can swim or hang out with them. Meaning you are mere feet from going over the edge of the falls. BadASS! Sadly we were prohibited from being so extreme so we had to settle on watching the bunjee jumpers off of the bridge that connects Zambia and Zimbabwe. For the record, cynics, I would have jumped but it cost $150.

Other highlights included safaris and game drives (baby elephants are the CUTEST), a sunset cruise along the Zambezi river, and my personal favourite...pretending to be rich. In true PC fashion, we only make enough money to stay at backpackers (hostels), in some of which you may or may not encounter bed bugs or really drunk fat guys sleeping in the bed above you. I like backpackers, but you never know what you’re going to get. Which is why you must learn to hotel crash! Hotel crashing is the best. All you do is put on your nicest outfit, take a taxi to the nicest 5 star resort along the Zambezi river, and walk in like you own the place. If someone gives you a questioning look, you take out your cell phone and pretend to call your mom and tell her that you’ve arrived at their hotel. Then you walk over to the pool and lay out for the next 6 hours. Now it’s not absurd for people who don’t stay at hotels to go and have a meal or drink, and I’m not without a moral compass, which is why I believe in order to ethically hotel crash you must order food and/or drinks by the pool. That way you are contributing to their economy and if you get caught then you can say, “Oh I’m sorry I didn’t realize I wasn’t allowed to drink this cocktail in my bathing suit while inside of the pool. That’s for residents only?”

Other No-No’s while hotel crashing:

• do not talk about living in your village so loud that the evil lady next to you realizes that you are not actually staying here and tells your friend that the chair next to her is occupied, when you know full well that it is not.

• when the waiter asks if you are staying at the hotel, do not say no. say instead, oh we’re staying at the sister hotel next door. or the before mentioned, my parents are staying here.

• do not under any circumstances, freak out when you realize that the Margarita you just drank cost you $16. if you could really afford to stay there, cost wouldn’t matter.

All in all, Victoria Falls was great. We are still trying to figure out the best time of the year to go. Friends have gone when the water was too low that you can barely even see anything coming over the falls. We went when it was so high you can’t defeat death by swimming in a pool of rocks at the edge of a cliff. You must choose your own fate.

As of March 26, 2011, I was officially a PCV for one year (the first two months of training don’t technically count as service). To commemorate this incredible achievement (if I do say so myself) and reflect upon our positive and negative experiences over the past year, we had a 2 day conference called Mid Service Training (MST) with all of the people in my group (some of whom I hadn’t seen for 8 months). We were lead through some exercises to aid us in reflecting over our accomplishments, failures, joys, and struggles as well as planning for the year to come. Mostly I’m just so extremely proud of us for coming this far amidst the obstacles, loneliness, and really big spiders/rats/BATS that have invited themselves to live with me in my room.

Of course, a training wouldn’t be complete without something absolutely ridiculous...enter: karaoke. Now, getting around the city is difficult without a car, and taxis are expensive so we don’t often deviate from the normal restaurants and bars. That’s why it’s wonderful to make friends with South African’s who have cars and love to cart around Americans and watch them look like idiots. My friend Andrew had long ago suggested we find a place to karaoke, because well...karaoke!! Luckily, our South African friends knew just the place! Only thing is, karaoke bars aren’t often teeming with talent or business on a Wednesday night. Perfect, you must be thinking. So was I. We enter the bar in an extreme gust of adrenaline and excitement to find...no one. Well, not no one. There was one shady dude in a suit sitting alone at the bar, two larger men singing an Afrikaans love ballad to...the shady guy in the suit sitting at the bar? And finally, maybe 3 or 4 teenagers playing pool who just wanted a night off from studying to relax and have some good conversation. But they got so much more. I want to say there were about 20 of us present, and our song choices ranged from Total Eclipse of the Heart, to something by ABBA, to Bohemian Rhapsody, to a tribute to SA21 with Sweet Caroline, to Frank Sinatra. Intermixed with our passionate and heartfelt musical stylings would be an occasional Afrikaans love ballad that we couldn’t understand but sang along to anyway. We also fashionably demonstrated how to Suki Suki (sp?) which is a wonderful phenomenon in which South Africans ballroom dance to hard rock music...yeah. I want to say that the high point of the night came when my friend and I were singing the Titanic theme song, My Heart Will Go On, and the DJ decided he had heard enough and literally turned off the music and welcomed the next performers on stage in the middle of me harmonizing (read: screaming) “Near, Far, wherEVERRRR you are”. Talk about an ego boost, am I right? As the night progressed, passerbys on the street must have heard the commotion and come in, because by the time we decided it was time to leave, we had quite an audience, and we were all losing our voices. One for the books, this night was.

So...after MST we had a week long all-volunteer conference that was called the Health Symposium. There we about 100 volunteers + their counterparts (both health volunteers and education volunteers) being trained in the responses of the SA government, PEPFAR, and the CDC to HIV/Aids and Orphans and Vulnerable Children in SA, how to teach and facilitate life-skills with youth, organizational development, and permagardening. I attended the permagarden track with a co-worker from my organization, where we learned efficient and environmentally friendly practices for training and operating small gardens. This year we hope to do trainings with various community members and organizations to start or improve on their gardens.

Though I unfortunately do not have any pictures to prove that I completed the race...I DID! I planned to walk at least half of the half-marathon (I’m not a very good runner), but the adrenaline, fabulous play-list that I made, and encouraging friends kept me going strong and I ran almost the entire time. I finished 13.1 miles in 2 hours and 20 minutes, a slow pace but a pace nonetheless. The feeling of ‘bad-ass-ness’ that I experienced after finishing the race was unreal. It felt so amazing to have completed that race and to have pushed myself beyond farther limits than I ever thought I could. And by that I mean, the longest I have ever run consecutively in my life is 3 miles. And that was in high school. There were about 30 other PCVs who came and participated in the race, and it’s always fun to get together with friends that I sometimes don’t see for 3 or 4 months. After the race we had a huge braii and dance party (pictured above) to celebrate our completion of the half-marathon (13.1 miles) and the ultra-marathon (34 miles) that some crazies kicked butt in. Through the selfless donations that many of you made, along with those solicited by other PCVs, raised over $22,000 for the KLM Foundation. This will cover the entire tuition and living expenses at a private high school for two deserving South African students. I can’t fully explain the significance of this without you experiencing how awful many of the education systems and facilities are in these rural areas. As I said before, students are learning in overcrowded classrooms with little to no resources, with teachers who often do not show up to class because they are ‘tired’ or ‘stressed’, and are taught primarily in English by many teachers who do not even understand it completely themselves. Attending a private school (which most cannot afford) offers a world of opportunities that may not be available to these children otherwise. Thank you for your donations and your support, and stay tuned for updates about the ultra marathon (58 miles) that I will be running next month (PSYCH!).

Sanibonani my friends,

I realized I have unfortunately relapsed into my poor habit of forgetting to update y'all, when I had a conversation with one of my friends and she said "What have you been up to, other than lagging at blogging again?"

I've been really busy! And I didn't have electricity for three days! And I was out of town! And my dog ate my computer. And I promise to write a longer and more detailed post very soon, but I just wanted to leave you with a couple of things.

The first was is a New York Times article that my friend Nahal sent to me, depicting the art of a South African male who aims to capture the beauty of daily life here in SA. The pictures are really beautiful, and encapsulate many of the experiences that I have daily.

The second is a funny video about being a PCV in Africa. The verbiage portrays life here as more depressing than it truly is; what I mean is that these quirks (i.e., watching goats eat grass for an entire day) are the things that I have come to appreciate and love about living here. There is a high chance I will never do any of these things again, so all we can do is laugh.

Missing and loving you all

This week we were able to distribute 100 teddy bears to some of the Orphans and Vulnerable Children (OVCs) in my village. There is an incredible organization called the Mother Bear Project that is based in the US, that sews teddy bears for OVCs and sends them around the world, completely free of charge. I finally received these wonderful gifts, each of which is hand sewn with a special note from the person who made it, on Monday and we gave them out on Thursday. Since my organization does not have any program devoted to OVCs, I asked the teachers of the preschool and primary school to identify those who needed and would benefit the most from a gift like this. I recognized most of the children that showed up to our small event on Thursday, in which we played games with the kids and gave short speeches about friendship, sharing, and love. These children are the poorest of those in the village, who have been orphaned by HIV/Aids or whose families can barely afford money for school uniforms or food. It is difficult to see the pain and suffering masked behind the beautiful smiles and innocent curiosity of these children, but after living here for over a year I have really come to understand what daily life is like for many of these children--and it can be anything but pleasant. The aim of the project is to provide a small gift of love to those children who may not be able to find it anywhere else. After we distributed the bears to these special children, I walked home to find small groups of kids playing soccer and a few clutching their teddy bears tight to their chests and they dribbled the ball, one girl chasing after me telling me that she named her bear Sbongile, and parents/family members coming up to me continuously to thank me and tell me how happy it had made their child. I knew right away that these bears had brought the message of love to these children, and I hope and pray that it will stick long after I am gone.

Here are some funny quotes from this week to make you giggle and give you a taste of what daily life is like with language barriers, cultural differences, and generally silly people...

"Good morning Sbongile. I have a small head."- Greeted in the morning by my coworker, this is the first thing she says to me.

"Sbongile, what happened to your face? It's all brown and ugly." - An eighth grade girl commenting on my tan. I wasn't offended though, because it was countered by...

"You look so cute today, like a little barbie"- A ninth grade girl on my apparently cute outfit.

In a momentary moment of trust and probably lapse in judgment:

Me: Can you take my passport with you to town and pick up my package?

Host Brother: Okay, give it to me.

Me: Please be very careful, if you lose it then I am in trouble.

Host Brother: So if I destroy this passport, then you will have to stay with us in South Africa forever?

Me: I think I'll just do it myself, thanks.

Host Brother: Oh, are you scared now?

"Sbongile, yesterday we will be going to come to play yoga."

"Why don't you wear these pretty clothes when you are here? In America you are beautiful, but here you are...well..." - An eighth grade girl, commenting on my Peace Corps garb while looking through my pictures from home.

"If I eat cheese like you, can I become an American too?" Um...sure.

"I need a new piece of paper. I glued on a picture of this girl, but now they are telling me that Justin Bieber is a boy". True story.

"You must wear this bracelet, because it will protect you from the snake. He is angry that people have put garbage in the river, and he is going to come and eat all of us. But if you are wearing this bracelet, you will be safe".

Host brother Guphi walks in to my room, says "I'm going to town, I'm going to go kill some people" walks out, then comes back in and says "Oh did you want me to buy you some milk?"

The girls club celebrating International Women's Day

The Gogos running and working on bead projects

Everyone watching Shrek in my room

This was one of those weeks that I wish someone was following me around with a camera to capture the small but incredible (and often ridiculous) moments that really make me realize how happy and fortunate I am to be here. This week was full of them.

To start, Monday night I was sitting in my room reading when I get a knock on my door. I called out “Ngobani? (Who is it?), and my host mom answers so I know that it’s okay to open. What I didn’t know was that when I opened the door, a Sangoma would bust in with a tray full of burning coals and who knows what else, circle around my room, and then leave without saying one word (meanwhile my host mom is giggling in the backround because she can tell how weirded-out I am). A Sangoma is a traditional healer, that lives in the community and acts as the village doctor. Many people don’t believe in the powers of a Sangoma anymore, and instead opt to go to the clinic, doctor, or hospital instead. However some people do and only visit the Sangoma when they have ailments (some Sangomas even claim that they can cure HIV/Aids). Now I obviously can’t speak to the healing powers of a Sangoma, but I do know that they offer a sense of peace to those who fear the unknown. I know that my host family recognizes the need for a proper doctor for serious medical problems, but I didn’t know the extent of their other beliefs. I found out the next day that the Sangoma had come and did some type of ritual around the house to protect them from witches. Many people here believe that people will put curses on others whom they don’t like or who have wronged them, and that a Sangoma’s blessing can protect them from this. For example, my coworker won’t tell anyone how many months pregnant she is because she fears that if someone finds out her due date, they will curse her baby during its birth. According to my brother, this particular blessing was to protect them from those people who will curse you to become disabled. Quite an experience to be a part of.

I also wish someone was around to record my reaction when I receive a package. Given the slightly shady and extremely ineffective post delivery system here, whenever I’m in town I go in to the post office with a piece of paper that has both of my names written on it and ask them to go and search to see if there is anything there for me. More often than not, a package has been there for a few weeks, but oops they forgot to put the notification in my mailbox. But the wait is worth seeing them come out of the package room with something in their hands for me. They must think I’m crazy, usually I jump up and down or clap my hands or do something ridiculous. This week I received two packages from September and November…completely ridiculous. Their explanation? The post office closes for all of December. Oh, okay then.

Throughout the week, other special moments have come in a different form. One evening I was cooking pesto pasta (delicious) and my baby brother Mxolisa (who is now 1.5 years old and not a baby anymore) comes in and starts dancing to my music. I begin to dance with him, and then he starts copying every move I made, from twisting to the ground to waving my arms back and forth (sadly I couldn’t get him to raise the roof). That was a particularly poignant moment in which I fully realized, I will be leaving here one day. I made a commitment to myself to try and make the most of each day, of each experience, of each dance party. It could be that now that there is less time before I complete my service and go home, than time that I have been here, that I’m starting to think more and more about the fact that at this time next year, this will not be my life anymore. And that is truly a weird thought. But in a way, it has transformed my attitude. I’ve recognized in myself this week, less of an anger at the things I don’t like about being here (long and crowded taxi rides, for example), and more of an appreciation of what a crazy experience I am having, that unless I do Peace Corps again, I will most likely never have again in my life.

Fortunately, I do bring my camera along to record some of the moments that I know will be special, including the work I did with my girls club to celebrate International Women’s Day, which was Tuesday March 8. I had a lot of fun discussing with them the significance of the day, certain successful women and the qualities that they have, and how we can be like them and achieve our dreams. We then wrote “I am proud to be a woman” on the top of a piece of paper, and cut out magazine pictures and words that they believed depicted the true meaning of being a woman. It was exciting to see them chose words and phrases like, “strong, independent, and everyone deserves to be safe”.

We had a Gogo group meeting in which they handed in their first bead project (beaded AIDS ribbons with the South African flag), and we will now begin the process of selling to bring them some much needed personal income. It is great to see the attitude of the group grow from subtle skepticism of ‘what is this group all about?’ to now have all of the Gogos participate in exercises and health talks, and most especially the essence of the group, the support discussion.

I rounded out the weekend hanging out with family, friends, and neighbors who are all very special to me. A cohort of kids came over and we baked a chocolate cake and watched Shrek. I taught a yoga class of 25 girls! I taught some easy English words to my young siblings. I taught some of the girls from the club how to make salsa, and explained that in America we eat it everyday (I’m aware that this is not even remotely close to being a true statement, but my nostalgia for Mexican food just overwhelmed me at the moment). Mostly I spent the week shifting my focus. I think that I have finally been able to let go of my need to “do” and “accomplish” and “create” things here, and really accept and appreciate what I can do here.

The week wouldn’t be complete if it didn’t end as crazily as it had started. I had to make a day trip to the city to purchase the final yoga mats. It has been ridiculously hot this week, and I was already not looking forward to what I knew would be a long and extremely crowded bus ride home. I showed up at the bus station with two bags full of ten yoga mats. The station was really crowded and loud, and I kept walking up to people asking them to direct me to where my bus was. However nobody could hear me, and so they assumed I was selling the yoga mats. My questions were answered with “Oh, okay, how much?” People took the mats out of my bag, trying to figure out how much they were, or why a nicely dressed white girl was at this shady bus station trying to sell expensive exercise mats. I finally found my bus, and a random gogo snuck me on with her so I could get a good seat (I know this sounds bad, but it’s truly every man for himself when it comes to public transportation). With five large butts in my face we finally departed the bus station, only to be the vehicle for an outbreak of a fight in the back of the bus. I have no idea what the fight was over (probably that someone stole someone else’s seat, or banana), but all I know is that I turned around to see a Gogo wailing on some young man. Everyone on the bus is screaming and yelling and trying to break it up, it was absolute craziness. The driver then detoured to the police station, where three police women came on board, and dragged the Gogo to the front of the bus by her ear, and chastised her in front of everyone.

TIA?

I've finally begun work on a library that I had hoped to have finished last October...oh well, TIA. Though things are going surprisingly well as of yet. We got a donation of over 600 books from this great organization called Books for Africa as well as from the Rotary Club center here in SA. Unfortunately we don't have a librarian yet, just a teacher who is interested in starting the library and so has been very helpful to me but doesn't have much time-thus I have been left to do the brunt of the work. I'm okay with that though because at least it means it will get done! So for the past two weeks I have cataloged and labeled these 600 books and entered them into the register in the computer. It's been fun to work on it at the school, with kids continually popping in and asking what i'm doing, etc. They are getting really excited about the library and this gives me small opportunities to teach them the different parts of a book, what the word 'Author' means, and also how to use a computer. Granted, it takes them at least 5 minutes to type the title of the book, but I enjoy the time spent with them.

We (I) still have a lot of work ahead of us: there are about 4 different ways we need to organize and catalog the books, still hoping for more book donations, and the grand task of preparing the room with shelves and paint and all that jazz. I'm really looking forward to the prospect of what this library can become, and having a tangible thing that I can leave behind after my service is over. Stay tuned for updates!

Here in rural SA, water can be a bit of a...pain in the butt. Typically, I have a tap in the front yard which is about a 50 foot walk, where I fetch my water from each day. But, more often than not, some authority who is unbeknownst to me , turns off the water for extended periods of time. In my village, we are going on 3 weeks without water. I've talked to some volunteers who have gone 3 months. There are a few responses to this issue--one is to buy a huge water reserve tank called a JOJO. These guys are great and can often hold us over until the water is arbitrarily turned on again. Though tend to be very expensive, so many people don't have them. Another response is what you see here in these pictures. A large truck with massive amounts of water will drive through the village once every couple of weeks, pours water into whatever available buckets you might have, and then peaces out. Today we spent about an hour filling our buckets, and carting them back into the house. Each bucket weighs a ton, and as I'm whining and complaining, Gogo just plops it onto her head and powers into the house. So much to learn.

This past weekend I attended a traditional ceremony for one of the girls in my girls club-the star pupil really. In Ndebele culture, there is a process and ceremony to become a man or women. For the men, about every 3 or 4 years a group of boys will go up and live in the mountains for two months. When they come down, there is a huge ceremony/party and they are officially men. The process is very secretive, despite my constant nagging and indirect questioning, I can't get anyone to actually tell me what happens up there--besides that they kill snakes and sleep on the ground. But the girl-to-woman ceremony happens much more frequently. Typically a girl or her family can choose when they want her to "do her culture", and she spends two months living inside the house, wearing only a blanket around her waist, cooking and cleaning. She isn't allowed to talk to anybody of the opposite sex, and nobody outside of her family. I actually went to visit a family once, unaware that the girl was "doing her culture", and was kind of offended at the fact that she wouldn't respond to my questions or even greet me, until somebody finally noted to me that she wasn't allowed to. After she finishes the two months of good womanly training, her family will host a big party as well, kind of like a debutante ball. 'The girl and all family members shave their heads to honor the debutante and signify growing up and moving forward. People bring presents (you've never seen true functional presents until you've lived in SA...people give money, food, beds, blankets, pots and pans...just what every 16 year old dreams for). Other girls who have either done their or are about to do their culture will come and assist in the ceremony, dressing up in traditional outfits and performing dances (that are, in my opinion, extremellllly boring). People eat, cheer, congratulate the family, and peace out. My host family dressed me up in one of the traditional outfits like the girls above (don't worry, I was wearing a shirt), and I was so surprised at how heavy they are. I mean, I couldn't even walk and was constantly complaining about how the heave beaded blocks were digging into my feet. So it is quite impressive that these girls can wear them for hours at a time, and even dance in them. Maybe that's why the dances are so lame, because they can barely move ;) In the old days, the young girls (virgins) would wear these outfits exposing their chests so that the Chief/King could see the goods and choose who he wanted to be his next wife. In my area anyway, the outfit is more symbolic and the Chief no longer has those powers. I'm not sure if in the more traditional areas, like Zululand, this still occurs.

I have mixed feelings about these cultural practices...girls often have to miss at least a month of school in order to fulfill the 2 month period, and the process of solely cooking and cleaning unclothed for two months seems extremely disempowering. Gogos will spend long days beading and sewing to make these expensive outfits. However it appears to be more of a symbol now than hard held belief, and most girls get to choose if they even want to participate. And maybe I will never understand, because I'm not Ndebele. The only justification I can seem to get from anyone is, "I can't explain it, it's culture". And that's gotta be good enough.

Me teaching HIV/Aids education in the primary school

The girls club

New yoga mats!

Happy Valentines Day to all of my loved ones! I celebrate love and friendship today, and the fact that YOU are a significant part of my life. I am so thankful for all of the joy and laughter and love that we have shared over the years. I spent the last weekend in the city running errands and visiting friends. When I arrived at the backpacker, I found roses and chocolate waiting for me from my boyfriend. Such a special and intercontinental-y impressive Valentines treat. Awwwww :)

Sent via my BlackBerry from Vodacom - let your email find you!

The KLM foundation is a wonderful organization that was started by two South Africa PCVs several years ago. Through donations, the foundation is able to send on full scholarship at least 2 intelligent, motivated, and deserving students to an excellent high school each year. As you may have heard me attest to, schools in our areas tend to offer a very poor education, with lackluster teaching (if the teachers even show up), subpar materials (most are without libraries, computer labs, or exercise facilities), and a lot of corporal punishment. Many students drop out before they even finish high school, and there is little effort to combat or react to this. In my region, less than 1% of students who pass and finish high school go on to attend college. This fundraiser grants the opportunity for students who have demonstrated a strong desire to learn and achieve higher levels of education, to attend an excellent private school that promises to give them the education and opportunities that they deserve. At the end of March I will be running a half-marathon and through doing so will raise money to support the educational goals of these two students. If you are interested in learning more, please visit http://www.klm-foundation.org/. If you choose to donate, please write my name in the slot that says, “If you are supporting a Longtom Marathon runner, write their name here”.

The marathon takes place in Eastern Mpumalanga province, an absolutely gorgeous area close to Kruger Park. It is the first marathon that I am attempting, and am realllllly hoping that the temperatures subside, because they are currently impeding my will to train. Thank you so much for your support!

Students from the primary school did a drumline performance and march around the village to notify people of the event and spark interest. It was awesome!

Above, we are using a Candlelight ceremony to celebrate people who are free from HIV, to support people living with HIV, and to remember those who have died from HIV/Aids related diseases.

To the left, we passed out AIDS ribbons and condoms to everyone who attended.

Sanibonani my friends!

I know what you’re thinking, and by writing today I can prove to you that yes, I am in fact alive, I am back (and still) in South Africa, and I do still have access to a computer and internet! I am sooooo sorry for the three month hiatus; I’m fully aware that my blog posts are most likely the highlight of your week and the food for your hungry souls, so I promise to begin fulfilling you once again. My new years resolution (I realize it is mid February, but it’s never to late to start) is to blog more, and instead of long boring updates about what I’m doing and not doing, I pledge to give you a better insight to daily life in South Africa, as a PCV, and village goings-on. But since it has been so long it appears that you will have to sit through another boring one yet again before we can get to the good stuff.

So to start, a quick recap of December-Present:

The World Aids Day event went incredibly. After weeks of planning, meetings, begging for donations, and organizing speakers/performers, we were able to pull off an event that was well attended and went more smoothly than I could have hoped or imagined. We only started 1.5 hours late, everybody who was supposed to speak and perform showed up and did wonderfully, and we even had an impromptu Waka Waka (the Shakira World Cup theme song) dance party, followed by a serious question and answer session. People in the village are very reluctant to talk about HIV in any form, so I was really surprised and delighted to see people opening up and asking questions in front of their peers. We had speakers from the local municipality, nurses, youth, and even people living with HIV giving education talks, motivational speeches, and just talking about their thoughts and experiences. The Department of Health sent a cohort of nurses along with their mobile clinic so that we could do HIV testing on site. My only discontentment with the event was that we didn’t see a huge number of people get tested, but I hope and believe that with each successive HIV testing campaign people will become more comfortable and we will be able to reach more and more villagers. It was a great note to leave on and was so fortunate to have the help and support of community members, home based care staff, and other counterparts (I’ll admit it, I wasn’t fully convinced that they were going to pull through). Though people here know who I am and what I’m doing, I felt like this was my first real and tangible accomplishment to show to my community, and that they have understood and taken me more seriously ever since.

After a final few weeks of insufferable heat, I packed up and had the incredible opportunity to go home to America for Christmas. I can’t describe how amazing it was so be home with family and friends after almost a year away; it was a trip filled with love and joy and laughter (I know I sound like a sappy greeting card but that’s just how it is). We celebrated our first Christmas in Texas, and I ate and drank my way through the next two weeks. Honestly, I think I was averaging about 7 meals a day. Had to get my fill of Mexican food for the next year! I spent a lot of quality time exploring Texas, learning the two-step, and cheering TCU to victory at the Rosebowl with my family, long walks on the beach with my boyfriend (swoon), catching up over happy hours with friends (I even had a surprise visit from friends living in San Francisco and New York!!!), taking long hot showers and wasting water (I feel no shame seeing as I think my carbon footprint from the past year was most likely below zero), and if I write any more I may have to get back on a plane to go home, so I’ll stop myself. But I feel very blessed to have such an incredible support system and came back to SA feeling very refreshed and ready to take on my final year.

Speaking of final year, I’m amazed at how fast the time has gone! Though this was most likely the fastest year of my life, I also think back to where I was at this time last year and I can’t believe how much has happened in this year. I’m confident in my belief that the hardest part is over, and I’m pretty darn proud of myself and other PCVs for being able to make it this far. None of it was easy, and I am able to walk away from the first year satisfied with how much I have learned, grown personally, and at least the small impact I hope I have been able to make in my community.

It was a hard transition back but after a week or so of moping and finishing off the remaining bags of skittles that I lugged back here with me, I got my feet back on the ground and things, though slow, are going well. Our gogo group is thriving with just under 30 members. We spend about 2 hours twice a month doing a support group of sorts: exercises, health education talks, and discussion. The discussion sector has been slow to come (a result of the aforementioned unwillingness to talk about private matters in a public setting), but I think as time goes on we will see a breakthrough. For now we are able to offer a short break in a long and difficult day for the women who most definitely run every facet of the village. Upon starting the group, I thought the reluctance would be more in the participation of exercise, not discussion. But they are LOVING the exercise, and we even worked ourselves up to a 3 minute jog last week (imagine 30 majorly overweight 60+ women running around the village, it was fabulous). We are starting the beadwork next week, an attempt at an income generating project in which we purchase the beads for them to make jewelery, AIDS ribbons, etc., and then we sell their products. They will receive half of the sale price and we will keep the other half to keep purchasing more beads, to create more products. Sustainability for the win! I have written and am waiting for response about a grant that I wrote to take my girls club, along with the girls club of a fellow PCV, away for a week-long girls empowerment camp that focuses on health and exercise, the environment, and HIV/Aids. Our hope is to hold the camp over the June/July holidays. And exciting news on the library front, we were lucky enough to receive large donations of books from multiple organizations this month, and will begin preparations on the tedious process of building the facility, and organizing, labelling, and recording all information about the books. At least it will keep me busy!

Looking forward, I’m excited about a half-marathon that I will be running in March, another brief training with all of my other PCV friends to commemorate our official one year of service, Easter, and a permagarden workshop that I will attend with a counterpart from my organization, with the idea of spreading the knowledge and practice through to my organization and others in the community.

Salani Kahle (stay well), and much love.

OHMYGOSH I know, I am officially the worst blogger in the history of bloggers. For this I apologize, and I will try to improve, but seeing as how I seem to make this disclaimer in almost every blog, I think it is pretty safe to assume that I won’t. I planned to write this over the previous weekend, but we just now regained electricity after almost a week and thus I had to succumb to what life must have been like for Peace Corps Volunteers pre-Globalization era (round 2) and pre-Technological Takeover (yes I created that name myself) . Since I often feel lonely and isolated, I am thankful for the fact that I can so easily access the internet, or that my Blackberry features are all completely accessible and that I am able to use my GPS to get directions from my village to anywhere in SA or maintain the ability to BBM with loved ones from home. But I also think that back home in America, we are always complaining of all of the distractions, time wasters, and technological wonders that interfere with our abilities to really be alone or to fully engage ourselves on that journey of self-discovery. It’s much more fun to watch the Bachelorette and make fun of the participants than to spend time reflecting in a journal, much more visually stimulating to spend copious amounts of time on facebook catching up on the latest gossip than to read a book, much more memorable to grab drinks with friends than to spend that time in meditation or prayer or self-reflection. However here, I don’t always have those choices. Most of my “friends” range in age from 10-17, it isn’t advisable to go out at night, and even if it were, there is absolutely nothing to do. So often I am left alone, just me and my thoughts. And even in this intense isolation and free time I still find myself constantly checking facebook, writing emails to friends to see what’s new, and watching TV shows and movies over and over. It hit me this month, that I’m still afraid to be alone. I have been given an incredible opportunity to release myself from the increasing distractions of the First World, and yet I am still managing to grasp at whatever I do have available to me in order to...what? I don’t even know. But for these reasons I have decided to take a step back, and fully allow myself to embrace this opportunity that has been given to me. I know this is all sounding tediously similar to typical (or stereotypical) Peace Corps Volunteer verbiage, and quite honestly I don’t even know how or why I started rambling like this (reason #163 why I am a bad blogger), but I think that I’m trying to justify why I am so lazy in updating my blog? Anyhow, I will stop now, and get back to the stuff you came here for.

Because I sense the inclination of this post to become very long (after all, this month has been fairly exciting), I will divide it into two parts if you will, so that you can ‘skip ahead’ to what you are really interested in reading and knowing about moi. After short deliberation, I have decide to organize the post like so: Projects (and vacations) that I am doing and still hope to do and Anecdotes.

Projects (and vacations) that I am doing and still hope to do

This topic is very exciting to me, because things have really taken off and I’m finally feeling my sense of purpose here as a Peace Corps Volunteer. I’m going to have to save larger more complicated projects for the new year, as I have weeklong trainings and trips, and all of the students are in exams until December when the schools will close for the new year. As a result, I’m still in the process of building the library and computer labs, and hope to do a water sanitation project and a soccer project that combines the sport with HIV/Aids education, in the early part of next year. Many things that I had hoped to have off the ground by December will most definitely not be, but I’m far less stressed or upset about it than I would have been 4 months ago, and I think I can safely say that those ‘expectations’ that I swore I didn’t have, have finally adjusted.

In the project sphere, things are going great with the Girls Club. After two months of bi-weekly meetings, I have finally gained their trust and respect enough for them to confide in me about the serious things that go on in their lives. Though I often have no idea how to respond, I know that being able to even say the words to me are a big step. I’m happy that I can be that figure for them, distanced enough from their group of friends that they know I won’t gossip, and distanced enough from the rest of the community that they know I won’t judge me. Though I can’t begin to understand the cultural implications that cause many of these awful things to happen, and subsequently prohibit the girls from ever reporting the grave crimes or dealing with the less serious issues, I do my best, and I’m glad that I can be an outlet for many of these girls who are suffering.

Because I could sense that they were getting bored with our introductory topics of ‘goal setting’ and ‘what roles are expected of girls/women’, these next two months are going to be focusing on puberty, safe sex, pregnancy, and HIV/Aids and other STDs. Last week I had the girls write anonymous questions about what they wanted to know/talk about, and I was absolutely elated to find some questions of “my boyfriend is pressuring me to have sex but I’m not ready, what should I do?”. As I said, many girls here start having sex at young ages and end up pregnant by 15. So to find that this was not a rampant issue (at least for now) with my girls was very encouraging. Though today we are talking about puberty and menstruation (fun), I’m most excited for our STDs lesson where I will scare them with the pictures of what untreated STDs can look like and do to your body. As if early teenage sex wasn’t enough of a problem, safe sex is rarely practiced and many young girls who don’t know the implications end up with STDs that they don’t understand. Since they can’t or don’t talk to their parents about those types of things, and in the absence of any literature or proper education on the topics, many girls and boys let their STDs go untreated. I know that this happens all around the world, but I believe that with these types of issues grassroots education can be phenomenally effective.

Anyway, yoga with the girls is going great. They absolutely love their new mats, and I am trying to extend the yoga teaching to a larger group that can come on Saturday mornings. I can see that some of the girls are really progressing, and I am still amazed that they can be quiet long enough to do 5 minutes of breathing techniques and 10 minutes of savasana, because they definitely cannot find it in themselves to be quiet for even 1 minute during Girls Club meetings. I think they like it mostly because it is so different, and because I do it and they “love my body”, but I believe that in time they will come to understand and appreciate yoga as a practice and not just a fun thing to do on Wednesday afternoons.

The Gogo support group is still going strong, and we are picking up new participants weekly. My biggest struggle with them (and the people working on the project with me) is to get them to understand that this is primarily a support group, NOT a bead project. But as it happens here, there is so much focus on money and income that I can’t exactly blame them as using the bead project as incentive to get people to come. But people will stop me on the street and say, when is the bead meeting? And I reply, the SUPPORT GROUP meeting is Wednesday at 11. But gogos are gogos, and I love them most of all.

This month I did an HIV/Education and art project with the primary school and Jr. High, as a predecessor to the World Aids Day event that we are planning for December 1 of this year. I went into all of the classrooms of grades 5-9 and used the entire period to talk about the basics of HIV transmission and prevention, and a great deal about stigma. The stigma that surrounds HIV/Aids in the rural villages is devastating and prohibits and unfortunately large amount of people from testing, taking medication, or disclosing their status. Most people won’t even go to the local clinic to test for HIV, because they don’t even want the nurses (who are supposed to be 100% confidential) to know if they are HIV positive. People gossip so much in the small villages, and they are afraid of what they don’t know about. So my goal with this art project, and with the World Aids Day event, is to get people talking about HIV, what it is, how it affects us, and how we can still live healthy lives if we have it. That is my biggest goal when I do any sort of HIV education, is to emphasize the point that HIV is not a death sentence, it doesn’t have to kill us.

So anyway, this project was by far the hardest thing I’ve done since being here. Not only was I literally screaming in the classrooms (the teachers were all grading papers in the teachers lounge and were uninterested in keeping the students quiet for me), but anyone who knows me well most likely knows about my rational (yes, I meant rational) fear of teenage boys. Back home in Newport, I would strategically plan my run (which passed the high school and jr. High) for a time when I knew that the students would be in class and unable to taunt me. Teenage boys are SO HARSH and will find a reason to make fun of anyone for any reason at all. That was why I made some of my caregivers come in the classrooms with me, under the guise of needing help with translation. Luckily for me, I don’t speak fluent Ndebele and I couldn’t understand what I was sure to be rude and degrading remarks from the back corners of my room while I gave my lesson. Unluckily for me I didn’t break through to everyone, for a few of the pieces of ‘artwork’ I had returned to me simply held phone numbers of adolescent boys or requests for my phone number, because they ‘love me so much and need to marry me’. Eish.

Last month I went with three other volunteers on an incredible backpacking trip through the Drakensberg mountains. This is an absolutely gorgeous mountain range which stretches from the northern province of Limpopo down to KwazuluNatal, which was where we went. The particular place where we entered was part of a village, where the chief actually owned the land. So the tourism center was more of a community development project, and all of the guides were local men who had grown up in the village and new the area. We hiked for four days with our packs on our backs carrying all of our clothes, food, and tents. We spent one day walking from the center through the village to the base of one of the mountain, one day hiking up the mountain, and two days hiking back. I wish I had the ability to describe how beautiful and breathtaking the sights were, but hopefully my pictures will suffice. This was one of the most incredible (and badass) things I have ever done and am so grateful to be serving in a country that allows me such incredible vacation opportunities. It is also hard to describe how incredibly alone we were on that hike. There were no other hikers or travellers, and we were completely alone in nature. It was an overwhelming and amazing feeling that is increasingly hard to find in our world. By the way, on the second night we camped on top of the mountain. And when I say on top I really mean on the side of, as in, we were basically sleeping on a cliff, on which if you lost your footing, sleptwalked, or maybe had one drink too many you definitely could have fallen off the side of the mountain. After I survived that, I acknowledged how awesome it was, but I spent a long part of that night convinced I was going to tumble off the side to my death.

Anecdotes

Now, it is important to note that this umbrella of a topic is a constant part of my daily life, meaning weird stuff happens to me every day. I will try to highlight the more interesting ones.

To begin: yes I am still having my spider issue. I haven’t yet seen another monster sized one; I think this is primarily in response to the fact that I constantly douse my room with the insect killer known as Doom (the most wonderful invention and probably the most used by PCVs around the world), but I also choose to believe that it is because I sometimes like to ‘leave a warning’, and the insects truly get my message. Leaving a warning means that when I kill a smaller spider or gross insect on one of my walls, I will sometimes leave the dead body there to deter and other unwelcome guests and to send the message that should they attempt to enter my room, they will meet the same fate. I wake up every day and scan the walls and floor to make sure I’m not surprised by any death seekers while I’m washing dishes or getting dressed. The other day I found a fist-sized spider on my wall, and since my big host brother was at school, I made the 4 year old come into my room, because somehow that mitigated my fear of what would happen if I threw my shoe at it and it didn’t die. Sometimes I wonder who let me into Peace Corps in the first place. On Monday I found a centipede on my floor, and I know from personal experience that if they bite you, it HURTS (and by personal I really mean my I watched how horrifically it hurt my dad because my sister and I screamed and forced him to kill it when we found one in our bed while on vacation not too many years ago). True to form, I yelled for my host brother (the big one), and he came in and I pointed out the centipede for him, which in my language means, ‘take care of this please’. He then asks, ‘Uyasaba?’ (are you scared?). I tried to explain that no, I wasn’t scared, but that I happened to know that their bites can be very painful, but I think he stopped listening to me. Now every time I call his name (for something unrelated to an insect), his first question to me is, ‘Uyasaba?”.

I don’t feel too bad about designating him as my personal guardian against insects, because I do my fair share of things for him as well. Today, for instance, I was preparing for Girls Club in my room, and he walked in, set the 5 month old baby down on my floor, and walked out without a word. Okay, I’ll babysit. I’m happy to babysit actual babies, but grown women, not so much. Take, for instance, last weekend. South Africans (at least in the villages), love to use a social media tool called Mixit, which is very similar to an online chat room, except that people use it on their phones. People meet through friends, or whatever, and talk about who knows what. My host brother told me that sometimes he goes on and pretends that he is a girl, and also sometimes a lesbian. He also poses as himself to meet girlfriends. For two months, my brother had been chatting with one girl who somewhere along the way became his girlfriend, though they had never met. Last weekend was destined to be their first date. And by date I mean she comes over to the house and he hides her from his parents. In this culture it is often considered disrespectful to talk to your parents about boyfriends/girlfriends, and especially about sex. This clearly has negative consequences, since girls are growing up not understanding the basics of sex and end up pregnant at 15. Since many teenagers live in rooms outside of the house, they will have their ‘significant other’ stay there for the night and the parents will never know. This was my brother’s plan. What he didn’t anticipate however, was an interception by his father who needed help fixing his taxi. So he made the poor girl stand outside of the compound in the pitch black (it was around 7:45 pm) while he went to help his father and form a plan. Thus, he came to me in desperation, needing my help because she was scared and I apparently had nothing better to do on a Friday night (wrong, I was going to watch Star Wars while I ate my salad). After some cajoling I end up walking outside to pick up the poor girl who thought she was going to get killed by Tsotsi gangsters (don’t worry, I assured her, we have to Tsotsis in Bundu—as if I have any idea what I’m talking about), and proceed to escort her into my room. Well, the taxi repairs took longer than anticipated and two hours later, Precious was still sitting in my room and we were discussing our favourite flavors of pie. I had shown her every single one of my pictures (which elicited the response, “you love to go to parties, don’t you”), and had exhausted every topic of conversation that I had. Luckily for me, she spoke perfect English and she was so nice that I felt truly sorry for her that her first date had taken such an unfortunate turn. My favorite part of the night, however, was when I asked her how she knew my brother, and she replied that they chatted on the phone every day. I tried to assure her that he was a really great guy, and her response to me was, “I’m aware”. Oh, I’m sorry, are you giving me sass right now? Well, finally the taxi was fixed and my brother came back to escort his girlfriend back to his room. When I woke up the next morning, Precious was gone, and my brother gave me bread to express his thanks for my babysitting. This may all sound utterly ridiculous, and it is, but to be honest, absolutely nothing surprises me anymore.

Since nothing about my villages surprises me anymore, I would think that nothing that I do anymore should surprise the people in my village. However, that is not the case. I’m convinced that everybody in my village already thinks I’m crazy, among other reasons because: I don’t like or eat pap, I am 23 and I don’t have any children, I run and do yoga, I don’t sweep the dirt in front of my hut, I don’t dust my shoes off right before I start walking on a dirt road again, and on the weekends I like to sleep late. However if any of them had doubts about me before, I’m quite certain that the actions I took part in this weekend convinced them that I am indeed nuts. Since summer is upon us and every day is about 100 degrees and sunny, I decided that yesterday would be the perfect day to start working on my tan. My family has a porch with a small wall so nobody outside of the house could see me, and none of the boys were home so I was stoked to take advantage of the miserable heat. Pointing to the spot I had designated and speaking in my pathetic Ndebele I told my host mom that “I am going to sleep here because I like the sun and I want to be black”. I didn’t know the word for lay down, and I’m 98% sure they don’t have a word for ‘tan’, so this was the best I could do. My host mom says, “okay!”, which I find out soon to mean she didn’t understand what I was saying. About 5 minutes into my peaceful tanning session (don’t worry mom, I was wearing lots of sunscreen) I hear shrieks of “SBONGILE WENZANI??? KUYATJISA!!!!!!!” (translation: what the heck are you doing, it is really hot outside). These shrieks were followed by the neighbor girls coming over to see what I could possibly be doing that would make my host mom yell so loudly at me. Now since none of my village friends and counterparts have the same issues in this department, I found it difficult to explain why I would want to do this to my skin. I didn’t mind, but things got awkward when a small crowd of friends and neighbors gathered around to stare at me and talk about how absolutely nutso I was. I then decided it was time to be culturally appropriate and go inside.

Since this is quickly becoming the longest blog in the history of blogs, I’ll end here with some things you may not know about South Africa.

*Starting with, in the Ndebele language there is no word for thin or skinny. There is a word for fat, but the translation for thin is “small body”. In case you don’t know why this is funny, it is funny because the greater majority of people here are huge.

*There are two phrases that people love to use to describe place, these being ‘this side’ and ‘that side’. This side means wherever I am right now, being perhaps my bed, my village, or South Africa as a whole. That side means, wherever you are or were, and it could mean anywhere from the other side of the house to the other side of the world. It’s all relative.

*South African beer does not taste good. South African wine tastes wonderful.

*Finally, people in the village are not so kind to animals, especially dogs. Dogs are mostly for security and protection, and are not so nice when people (me) try to pet them or play with them. When a dog is getting too close and personal, the term that people use to say go away is “Fut Sec” (I know that the spelling isn’t right on that), which I think is Afrikaans and translates to “Piss Off”. When I went to Pretoria to go to church for Easter, I was told by the family that I was staying with that if I wanted to say ‘Thank you so much’ for something, that the Afrikaans phrase was “Fut Sec”. Fortunately for me, I already knew the real meaning and so did not fall victim to their trick, but I cringe to think how embarrassed I would be if I had.

Peace out people, pictures to follow!

Check out this AWESOME VIDEO that my girls (and select host family members) made this weekend. A film student in Pretoria volunteered to come out to my site and help teach the girls about film making. Among many other things, the girls actually filmed most of the shots and chose which order they would appear in during the film. The music is from a local choir, and the poem that is read was written and recited by one of the girls. Most of the dancing is either traditional Zulu/Ndebele or the girls' interpretation of Coito style House Music (i.e. techno).

It was so much fun to be able to do this with them and see their excitement as they learned about, participated in, and produced the project. Other than the camera it was 100% the handiwork of those living in my community and I can't wait to see what else they are capable of.

The name of the Girls Club (after much debate) is Stars of Tomorrow. Cheesy? Maybe. But its true! They really are.

Today we had our first official Gogo Support Group (catchy and/or meaningful name to be determined at a later date) meeting. Although the attendance was low (we are still waiting on funding, therefore no food and no beads = no Gogos) but the Gogos who did show were really wonderful and we had a great time. As they arrived we started out with a brief health talk. Sidenote: As I posted previously, I held a workshop with my caregivers about cancer last week. It went really well, I got the sense that they didn’t understand everything, even though they claimed to, but they walked away with the major point that I was trying to make—we can prevent most cancers by not smoking, maintaining a healthy diet, and exercising daily. I got all types of questions which showed me they were interested and attentive, and I even taught all of the female caregivers how to do a Self Breast Exam. After the workshop I gave them a worksheet with easy questions regarding what we had just talked about (they were NOT happy about this and tried to make fun of me by writing their names followed by Grade 12 at the top), but we made a huge meal when all of the caregivers were finished so everything turned out okay. All in all, I was really happy about the outcome.

So, I then had Sbongile 2 (my counterpart and namesake) give a condensed version of that health talk to the Gogos. She did a great job (I think, it was all in Ndebele), and even got the Gogos to perform Self Breast Examinations right there. After the health talk, I and another caregiver led the Gogos in some exercises, stretching, songs, and dances. This was by FAR my favorite part. We were jumping up and down, twirling around in circles, and shouting at the top of our lungs (keep in mind these women are 50+). I was actually surprised at how into it they were and how much they were willing to participate. These exercises, apart from being fun, combined with the long walking commute to our Home Based Care, will be advantageous for the Gogos physical health as most days are spent sitting on the ground watching TV or playing with the children.

Finally, we had them sit in a circle and talk about what is going on with their lives. I could only pick up bits and pieces of the conversation, but as you can imagine, life is tough for these women. I am so inspired by their determination and how, despite these hardships, they always manage to have huge smiles and a sense of humor enough to make fools of themselves dancing around in circles with me.

Our next meeting is in two weeks and I’m excited to see what is in store for us.

Other highlights: due to the incredible generosity of a few friends and my parents (and some people that I don’t even know!) I was able to raise enough money to buy yoga mats for my girls club. I still have yet to figure out how I will be able to schlep 20 yoga mats back to my village from Pretoria, but I guess I’ll just think about that tomorrow ;)

This weekend some friends I’ve made who study film in Pretoria will be coming to my village to help make a short film with the youth and in doing so teach them how to direct, edit, and “produce” a film. The kids are absolutely ECSTATIC and I can’t wait to see what they come up with. I’ve already had to break up a few fights regarding what songs we will use and who will dance in which group, but what’s my PC experience without a little drama?

Finally, small success, one girl wrote me a letter to tell me how special I was to her and how much she loved me. I almost cried right there.

Salani gahle abangani bami (stay well my friends)

By the way, I'm having a very frustrating relationship with my picture uploader right now, and I can't seem to get any of them up. I will do my best soon! Don't worry though, I still look the same.

Eish! How has it been so long since I've updated? Most probably because I have absolutely NO idea where the time has gone. Honestly I feel like I was just waving the American flag and obnoxiously cheering our team to victory during the World Cup, and now my calendar is trying to tell me that it is almost October? I can't believe it. I'm so out of sorts though, regarding the weather/time of year. It is basically summer now, yet it's October and for the past 23 years of my life, October has meant cold (yes I heard about the SoCal heatwave, sorry to say I can't give you any sympathy). Now I keep thinking that its June or July and every time I look to my wall and see that the Calendar says it is the end of September, my mind gets all dizzy and I forget. Then the next time I look I'm just as surprised. What has Peace Corps done to my brain, you ask? I wish I knew.

I almost lost it during that 4 week strike my previous posts talk about. I was so excited to FINALLY be starting projects and then the entire village chooses to shut down and I was left, again, with nothing to do. So in an attempt to keep my sanity I spent that time coming up with and planning every possible project that any Peace Corps Volunteer in any country in the world could possibly do, and the day everyone went back to work I sprung them on everyone. So a few ideas have been making great progress. I feel like a real PCV now, you know like those ones you read about in the paper. I'm nervous to jinx it by telling you, but I've become pretty busy with the various projects that I'm starting within my organization, the schools, and independently. As I've said a hundred times (I'm excited about the possibility) we are waiting to hear on funding about our potential OVC center where we can feed and play with/educate kids daily. We are also starting a Gogo (grandmother) support group in which these incredible women can come together once or twice a month to share struggles, and offer advice and counseling to each other, and do beadwork as a type of income generation. As a result of low employment opportunities and high mortality from HIV/Aids, most Gogos have to take on the burden of caring for multiple children, regardless of the fact that many are over 50 and have trouble standing up and sitting down. Most parents will go to the cities to find work, leaving their children with the Gogos in the safer villages. My own Gogo is currently caring for 3 children from the ages of 4 months to 4 years old. That's not easy at any age. We've had multiple meetings with the Gogos and they are so excited and interested in this group that you can't help but smiling when you speak with them. I start my first round of monthly trainings with my caregivers and the clinic on Thursday. They requested a four hour (yikes) workshop on cancer, any and all types. There is a very small amount of knowledge about cancer with such a strong focus on HIV/Aids and TB. Given that many in the village are prone to smoking, abusing alcohol, and being extremely overweight, my guess is that many end up being affected by cancer but never know. I'm excited to be able to teach a little about this as fighting cancer has been a goal of mine for a long time now.

I'm working to start a library in the Jr. High, we have many leads for book donations and are just trying to figure out funding for transportation. We are eventually hoping to turn it in to a library/career center/computer lab. We definitely have the opportunity, we just have to find the path to get there. I also started a formal girls club (separate from the running club)of girls in Jr. High ages 13-16, in which we meet two times a week. One day we have fun- play games, sing, dance, do dramas (skits), and the other day we are serious- talking about choices, women's rights, goals for the future, puberty, sex, HIV/Aids, etc. I was so surprised at how excited the girls were about the group, almost all of them attend every meeting and though it can sometimes be hard to get them to participate verbally, I can tell that we are making a lot of progress. And my favorite part is that I started teaching them yoga. We have a lot of fun with it, and are definitely starting from the very basics (exercise is pretty foreign to them, not to mention yoga), but they are loving it. Yoga is a passion of mine and it is really exciting to be able to share the benefits that it has for the mind, body, and spirit. I think yoga can be a powerful empowerment tool for anybody, as you really begin take ownership over your body and your actions towards yourself and others. Eventually the hope is to turn this group into a peer leadership program, in which they can take certain things that they have learned and teach a larger group of students (they are called learners here). The principal has asked me to teach some classes in the school as well, but I'm not so sure I can handle 50 Jr. Highers at one time just yet.

Finally, we are starting an official computer lab in the high school within the next few weeks. The building is there, the computers are there, we are just waiting for them to be set up and all that technological jazz. "You can do it right, Sbongile?" Ummm, no. Sorry. As of my last visit with the educators, there is absolutely no plan on how they will conduct the classes, who will conduct them, or at what time of day they will be conducted. Most of the educators don't even know how to use the computers. This will definitely be an interesting task but if we can make it work, will be such a skill for the high schoolers to be able to graduate knowing how to work a computer and type. We take for granted that pretty much any job requires computer knowledge, and that prohibits a lot of young adults in the rural areas being able to get jobs outside of the village. Another volunteer gave me a great idea to start an income generating activity with them. During the times that the learners aren't using the computers, we can allow people from the community to pay to take classes to learn as well. This can raise money for the school while spreading the skills to the rest of the village.

And still saving a little time to have fun. I went to a wedding this past weekend, which was a lot of fun. It was down the street from my house so I didn't have the usual 'be home before dark, I don't know anybody' worries. I was happy to recognize and know most of the people that were there, adults and kids included. That was sort of an 'aha' moment that I have truly integrated into my community and I've really started to feel like this place is home (not my primary home, don't worry). I love being here because I can sing and dance as ridiculously as I want at weddings, or anywhere, (I actually got caught dancing outside of the clinic this morning by a very amused Gogo) and most people are staring/laughing at me anyway so it doesn't really matter if I'm all that bad. The more that people get to know me, the less I get harassed and the more other people stand up for me, which honestly takes away a TON of the daily stresses of living here. I'm hoping to go camping in the Drakensberg mountains next month with some friends, and we have another training in November which I get to bring my counterpart to. I'm bringing Sbongile 2, her first name is Sbonigle and her middle name is Emily (coincidence? I think not). She has really been my rock and the only person that I have been truly able to depend on in the organization. I've been giving her computer lessons daily while secretly hoping that she won't apply for a new job because I don't know what I would do without her. She has recently started to open up about her life to me and I am amazed at the obstacles that she has overcome while still managing to be there daily for the whiney white volunteer who wants help (that's me). She was really excited that I asked her to come, I thought it was because she wanted to learn about lifeskills (the topic the training is about), but she said she really just wanted to get away from home for a week. Oh well, can't blame her. And then there is always baby mXolisa. He is teething now and simultaneously learning to speak, and he has undoubtedly started to call me 'sesi' (sister) which basically makes me melt EVERY time. I get seriously upset thinking about how I will leave him at the end of my two years.

So if you love me enough to still be reading this, I will reward you with a story. Anyone who knows me knows how much I hate spiders; I'm the girl who makes her roomate come in the shower to kill one, or leaves it under a glass cup with the sign 'spider' next to it for my dad to take care of when he gets home. As luck would have it, I have literally never seen or killed so many spiders in my life. I don't like killing them, but I honestly can't imagine being in here or sleeping while they crawl all over me. I'm getting the chills even writing that. And these guys are BIG. You may think I'm exaggerating, but I'm not. The standard guys are bigger than a dollar coin. I don't like it, but I've gotten used to it. However last Sunday morning, as I was peacefully making breakfast I spotted one on my wall that was bigger than my hand, like tarantula status. I freaked out and ran screaming into my host brothers room (he was not happy about this as he was sleeping off his hangover from the night before) and made him come in and kill it for me. He exacted his revenge by taking the dead guy in his hand and chasing me out of the room with it. The rest of the family thought it was just hilarious. I kind of want to delete this so I never have to remember that scaring moment ever again.

As always, I miss you all and love to hear what you are up to. Please keep in touch!

xo,

Sbongile Emily

(i wrote this first part last week...tried to upload some pictures but my connection is too poor)

Today was the first official day of spring. Winter was short, but brutal, and I would be lying if I said I was sad to see it go. Spring in my village is amazing partly because of the warmer temperatures and the tan skin (I guess that only applies to me), but mostly because of how they celebrate it. Yesterday the young girls came up to me and said “Tomorrow we are playing summer”. I didn’t realize what that meant until today: pure awesomeness. The kids fill up buckets of water and throw them at each other—basically a massive water fight. However, “team water fight” quickly turned into everybody gang up on Sbongile and drench her from head to toe. But water fights with buckets are WAY awesomer than water fights with squirt guns. Because not only do you get to assail your opponents with cold water from your bucket, but you also can catch the water from their buckets, and then throw it right back at them. Also, I got to wear shorts and a bathing suit.

Later this afternoon I played soccer with about 15 high school girls. They were having fun, but their skills were definitely…lacking. They asked me to help to coach them and play with them, which was great considering that I actually know the rules that govern this sport (see former post about Netball), and have been working with another woman around my age to start up an informal youth sports league.

Well the 3 week strike is now officially over? postponed? I'm not really sure. But thankfully the schools, clinic, and my organization (still, why were you on strike?) will resume tomorrow. This week we will be submitting our proposal for the OVC center, which should have been sent 3 weeks ago but I won't start with that, and I am formalizing my girls club. The principal of the Jr. High has agreed to let me use the school facilities, which is great. The club will meet once a week after school, and we will use one hour for exercise and sports (even though nobody here seems to understand or share my love for yoga I'm not giving up) and the second/third hour for discussing things like future goals, family struggles, HIV/Aids, and just the general hardships of being a 14 year old girl. Ohhh I do not miss those days at all. I got a bunch of materials donated and have a great resource that is helping me to structure the meetings. This club of about 20 girls will hopefully last at least a year, and during the July holidays next year I plan to put on a week long camp with another volunteer that will highlight many of these same issues, and just be a lot of fun...I hope.

Cheers to spring!

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I know, I know that I have seriously been lagging in my blogging. In my defense, the last 3 months have been a whirlwind of World Cup, visitors, vacations, and PC trainings. And just as the storm settled and I began to get things moving on my first official project, the OVC drop-in center (more on that later), the school educators went on a nationwide strike, along with many government workers, and, for some reason unbeknownst to me, my organization. PC encouraged us to stay out of the schools and even away from any projects involving students during the day; this is apparently a preemptive move to dispel any ideas that we may be anti-strike that would therefore foster ill-will against us in the community. So, since I am dependant on both the school and the clinic to work with my organization on this project, I am basically SOL for now, but will attempt to do what I can regardless. At least I now have the free time to do all of the things I was too lazy to do these past 3 months (laundry, blog, actually play the guitar that I purchased 3 months ago). So, what can I say? I don’t even know where to start. World Cup was, in a word, AMAZING. Had I known how easy it was going to be to get around, etc I would have tried to go to more games than I did attend. But even by just watching a game in a bar filled to capacity by screaming nationals of one of the teams or learning the dance to Waka Waka (the official WC song performed by Shakira) and doing it over and over (and over and over) with my girls club in the village, I had an extremely fun and incredibly exhausting 5 weeks. It was a slow and quiet week that ensued after the final (during which I completely forgot my Dutch ancestry and rooted for Spain), a period we referred to as the World Cup hangover. Coming from a large, sports-obsessed (first to 100 national championships!) university, for me there isn’t a lot that compares to watching a game live in the stands amidst incessant cheering, heckling, vuvuzelas, and patriotism. It was definitely a once and a lifetime experience and if I’m able, will try my best to get to Brazil in 2014. After World Cup, I started to lay the groundwork for some of my projects, and then we had a PC training which signified the official end of our ‘community integration (aka don’t do anything)’ period. It was another fun and exhausting week (I’m not used to talking that much anymore) of catching up with other volunteers that I hadn’t seen in 4 months, talking about successes and failures at our respective sites, and discussing future projects with each other, our supervisors, and PC staff. The best part (for me) of that week however, was that my family came to visit at the end! I was able to travel with them to visit their various partner churches and organizations that they have here in South Africa, and we even squeezed in a little time for fun at the end. My parents and another mission partner even stayed in my village for a couple of days—braving the pit toilets and the roosters which NEVER shut up, though they successfully avoided use of the bucket bath. I can’t express the joy and excitement that comes along with seeing my family after 6 months apart, or how sad I was to see them go. Even though I fortunately already have had this ‘aha moment’, being so far away from loved ones really makes me appreciate where I come from and the support that I have waiting for me back at home. After my parents went back home, my sister stayed with me in the village for another 10 days, hanging out with my peeps and helping me with one of my projects. During the time my sister was here I celebrated my 23rd birthday with her, another PCV, and some of my girls. They brought over presents (chocolate and lollipops from the tuck shop) and cards that they had handwritten. Though my host sister had probably prompted them to do this for me, I was really touched by their actions and excitement to give the presents to me. It’s hard to explain how nice it feels to read a card that says “you are a great sister and friend, and everybody likes you; thank you so much for coming to South Africa” when I sometimes feel like nobody really cares if I am there or not. This project that we are currently working on is a result of both my community needs assessment and my personal views and desires about what my village needs. In conjunction with the schools and the clinic, we are working to open a drop-in center for orphans and vulnerable children (at-risk youth) to come after school each day for food and programming. Once we get the actual food scheme up and running, we plan to have daily activities ranging from homework help, sports and fitness, arts and crafts, and lifeskills education. There are currently no programs or help readily available for OVCs, or any youth at all, so I and the community really saw a need for the implementation of this program. I have the obvious concerns about how long this will take to get funding, open, and function properly, as well as the motivation of the staff and the sustainability of it after I leave, but I’ve got to at least try. And in my opinion, even if the OVCs have the program available to them for a year longer than they would have if I had never come, I can leave satisfied with that. So my next four months will be devoted to the completion of this, as well as the start of a formal girls’ club and hopefully girls’ soccer league. My organization also asked me to do a weekly training about anything I feel like teaching them. This probably sounds like “isn’t that what you are supposed to do in the Peace Corps?”, but I was actually really excited that they asked me that. I know my organization likes and appreciates me, but I honestly didn’t think that they took me so seriously, probably as a result of my age and gender, and hadn’t shown any desire to let me transfer any limited skills and knowledge that I had to them. Peace Corps has told us multiple times to adjust your expectations and take pride in the small accomplishments…I never fully understood that until now. I plan to “go village” for as long as I can during these four months. We use the term “going village” to signify being completely immersed in the village and our projects, not leaving for vacation but only for grocery shopping, work-related trips, and Peace Corps trainings, etc. I do still have a week of in-country vacation to use before the end of the year (and four months is a LONG time to stay in the village) so we’ll see what ends up happening, but my intentions are pure. I know these projects and these upcoming months will be slow, so slow that I can’t even walk fast. Last week I went around the village with my caregivers to do home visits. During the walk all of my caregivers looked at me with exasperated faces and said, “SLOW DOWN SBONGILE, YOU ARE RUNNING!”. We were walking so slowly that I thought I would fall over due to lack of momentum. Welcome to Africa. I have a new and permanent mailing address, so PLEASE continue to send me letters and packages. I enjoy honey bunches of oats cereal, anything that resembles something that looks or tastes like Mexican food, and dunkin’ donuts coffee. Sbongile Thubana (or Emily Birchfield) PO Box 4565 Empumalanga, 0458 South Africa I will leave you all with this: Last week I was grocery shopping in town when some random lady (who somehow knew me and my name) came up to me and excitedly talked to me about nothing in particular. She then kept asking me to squeeze her while she simultaneously pointed to her breast. I stood there awkwardly for about a minute until another PCV said, “I think she wants a hug”. Turns out that was exactly what she wanted…but had there been no interpretation, things could have gone south very quickly.

Questions of Violence in South Africa

For any of you who have read this or related articles like it, I just want to assure you that I'm not in an area where this may or may not be occurring. Townships and squatter camps are mostly located outside of towns and major cities, and though I am close to Pretoria I am still in a rural village where everybody knows me, who I am and what I'm doing here. Not that it makes it any better, but the violence is aimed at Zimbabweans, Mozambicans,and other African immigrants, so it is doubtful I or any other PCVs will be targeted.

Many people think that the international media is hyping the situation up, just waiting for South Africa to fail after performing so well as host to the World Cup. I for one am skeptical, these xenophobic attacks happened in 2008, and when people are as impoverished and desperate as they are here, there is honestly no telling what they can or will do.

But we have a very competent safety and security branch of Peace Corps South Africa who keeps us informed and has plans to ensure our safety as volunteers. So if you were worried, don't be, and if you weren't, please disregard this post.

Love to you my friends

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Don’t be alarmed by the changes, it’s still me. I just finally had some time to make it a little more…Emily-esque. The new title, Akwande Ukuthula is a Zulu phrase meaning ‘let there be more love, peace, calmness’. I love this phrase, and older people in the village often use it to greet each other when passing. I wish I could adequately describe the vivacity with which people greet, or how it can brighten my day to hear someone yelling AKWANDE MAMA! to me as I walk to work in the morning. I secretly love when people call me Mama instead of Sesi (sister), because I feel like they respect me more. It’s interesting to live in a place where old age is honored and respected, especially after coming from LA where everything is focused on the young, hip, and now. I even get nervous sometimes to say I’m 22 (almost 23!) when people ask, because I’m afraid they won’t take me seriously. Other ‘white lies’ that have become staples in my life are “I’m married”, “Yes I like pap”, and “Yes, I do know Beyonce”. The I’m married helps ward of drunk and/or pushy men who don’t understand why I’m not in love with them seconds after being introduced, the I like pap is mostly because I don’t know how to appropriately explain that I think their favorite delicacy tastes worse than dirt, and the Beyonce has come from a result of being asked WAY too many times and enjoying messing with the 14 year old girls who ask me almost daily.

Not much is changing with the village, with World Cup most everything (in the villages, towns AND cities) has shut down, or at least become virtually ineffective. All of the schools are closed, meaning most families have taken holiday and some point during the 5 weeks, or people can’t come to help you do whatever it is you need or want because they are busy watching the games. I’ve fully embraced this attitude and have taken kindly to the World Cup Fever. People in the village are getting much more comfortable with me now, allowing for more serious discussions and relationship building—this has given me more of a sense of accomplishment than I could probably attest to. To anyone that knows me well, you know I am not the most assertive, outgoing, or loud-spoken person. But that is exactly what I’ve had to do in order to get people interested in me and to take me seriously, to welcome me and to want me to be here working with them. One point for character growth!

The only other change I can visibly see (and here) is that my precious little host brother who was the most perfect baby I had ever seen…turned 1 year old this month. With that birthday came the ability to walk (right into my room, overturning all of my buckets of water and having somewhat of a 6th sense as to what exactly I do NOT want him to grab, and then grabbing it), talk (gibberish), and cry. Oh the poor baby is crying ALL the time. I still love him though.

Planning on spending these next 3 weeks (after the World Cup Finals are over, of course) on getting together all of the information, etc. that I will need to get a project or two up and running. It’s a good thing I’m patient though, because everything here takes FOREVER!

P.S. does anybody else love the Coke sponsored 'Waving Flag' song as much as we do?

World Cup 2010, as most of you know, begins today. The tagline, which we have been hearing non-stop on TV and radio advertisements since we arrived here in January, is Feel it! It is here! But we as volunteers have been joking that the real tagline is 'Hear it! It is here!' And the culprit for that: my archenemy, the vuvuzela (pictures to come). The vuvuzela is a horribly obnoxious horn that South Africans are obsessed with blowing nonstop. I wish I was exaggerating when I say this, but sadly I'm not. Wednesday was the last day of school before Winter Break (conveniently scheduled for the entirety of World Cup) and it was deemed Vuvuzela Day. Every student got one, and these devilish horns have not left their lips ever since. Yesterday, the first full day of no school, I heard horns blowing from 7 am until I was finally able to fall asleep at midnight. I don't think these people are even stopping to breathe in between horn blasts. Now instead of greeting or talking to each other, villages are simply blowing these horns as an all encapsulating way of communicating. It is hard not to get caught up in the excitement surrounding WC, but I kind of feel like the grinch because I get so angry at the vuvuzelas and their masters.

Anyway, if interested, there are a lot of good articles on NYT and BBC news about the fervor surrounding WC, and what it is actually going to mean for the residents of South Africa. Most South Africans cannot even afford to go to the games, regardless of the reduced prices for SA citizens (and Americans with 2 year visas) because the cost of transport, food, and lodging has skyrocketed to ridiculous amounts. Those small vendors who sell on the side of the streets (who I've alluded to during Pension Day) aren't allowed to sell outside of the stadiums, expensive permits have to be attained and so many are going to lose out on business during this month. But, as you can guess with the vuvuzelas, all the way out here in the village people are just excited to watch the games on TVs (yes, people may not have shoes but most everyone has a TV) and sport their Bafana Bafana jerseys and blow their stupid vuvuzelas for the continuation of the next month. So, I'm interested to see what happens.

Let's go USA!

So I didn’t want to use this blog as a manifestation of my bleeding heart or a medium to make everyone feel bad about the disparities of the world…we’ve all seen the commercials with the children who are so hungry they can’t even bother to lift an arm to shoe (sp?) away the flies on their faces, and I know many of you even support these children or volunteer in other helpful ways. I don’t need to spend time telling you about the orphans who’s parents have died from some incurable (or, even more disheartening, curable) disease and are supporting themselves, or about the orphans who’s parents are still alive but don’t give a shit about ensuring that their child eats dinner because it’s Friday night and the bar is calling (sorry for the language, but this issue gets to me probably more than anything else). I don’t need to tell you about the patients we visit who are dying of HIV but can’t tell their families about their status because they risk getting kicked out, ostracized, or (in very extreme cases) killed. You’ve heard it, you've seen the campaigns, you already know. I plan to spare the heartache, but the information and stats that I have been gathering to write this community needs assessment are just flat out depressing.

The unemployment rate in my greater area (about 60 villages with less than 300,000 people living there) is 50%. It is probably even higher in my village because this statistic includes towns with actual businesses and functioning organizations. 30% of these houses have no income, and the average income of those who do is about $150/month. As a Peace Corps volunteer we get about $250/month, and it is definitely not enough to take care of my needs and then my wants and then those fun trips we take to remain sane. And I’m only one person trying to live on this income, not 10 (which is the number of people usually living in one house on one income). I remember in one of my IDS classes we read an article that was criticizing poor people for spending too much money on “fun” when they couldn’t afford to feed their families. This “fun” isn’t defined as spending all your money on drugs and alcohol, but rather as holding too many festivals. Seriously? We’re talking weddings, birthday parties, cultural ceremonies. This article made me so angry because that is exactly what poverty does to you—it rips away your personal pride. And we all need some escapism to keep us sane and take our minds off of the reality of the pain that consumes our lives. That’s why we as Americans will pay $12 to see a bad romantic comedy, right? I guess what I’m saying is that an entire family (and probably some other random children that they felt obligated to care for) living on $150 a month is not acceptable. They don’t have the luxury of having full stomachs and those social events that give us reasons to get out of bed each day. But they do have the luxury of choice. So which is more important?

Continuing: 40% never had any type of schooling, 1% went on to college, and only 16% of those who do attend high school end up graduating. What angers me the most though, is not that many people are living without electricity, sanitary water, or any type of reliable medical services in emergencies, but that this is South Africa. This country has the highest GDP on the entire continent, boasts gorgeous hotels and glitzy restaurants, and has any basic service and pretty much any luxury that one might want or need. For a country that is able to claim status as a first world country, these statistics are disgusting. The statistics regarding the incidence and prevalence of HIV are even more alarming, but are easier to stomach because a good amount of new infections are a result of personal choice (on some level). But access to clean water and easy access to a sanitary hospital when my bus has rolled over because the driver was going to fast? Those are rights. So much was promised to black South Africans by the new government as apartheid came to an end, but it turns out that providing basic services to your taxpayers is just too darn expensive. I guess it’s easy to forget that the majority of your population is wondering where their next meal is coming from while you’re sipping a cocktail in the backseat of your beamer.

Seriously lazy. Today is freezing (sorry east coaster's), a brisk 50 degrees. Funny thing is, we joke about Californian's reactions to cold, rain, or any type of severe weather, but they ain't got NOTHIN on South Africans. Granted, central heating isn't exactly abundant in this neck of the woods, but once a single cloud covers the sun or the temperature drops below 65, people lose it. Women travel with multiple blankets covering them, children are kept inside, and even my running group won't dare to spend one hour of the day subjected to the brutalities of winter. All I hear is distressed complaints of "kumakhaza (it's cold)" over and over again. A few weeks ago, when I was at church in Pretoria, I was sitting and having coffee before the service started. Some lady came up to me and said "What is your story?" A bit confused, I started to tell her, and she said "I knew you weren't from around here." Even more confused, I asked her what gave me away, and she replied "Look around, you are the only one not wearing a sweater." It was definitely no less than 65 degrees that day. So since it is both cold and rainy today, I'm still in bed (it's 12, oops), catching up on e-mails, reading other volunteers blogs, uploading pictures (check them out!), and watching movies. How any PCV lives without electricity and an external harddrive filled with movies/tv shows, podcasts, and music (all acquired by completely legal means of course) I will never know.

One thing I will complain about, regarding the cold, is the bucket bath. yikes. I boil the water, I point my space heater directly at my face, I warm my towel up before I put it on. Regardless, it's painful. One time, I had the brilliant idea of sitting inside my bucket (pretty much exactly like the picture of my two host brothers). Everything was going swimmingly until I displaced all of the water, soaked my entire floor, and was left even colder than when I started. Oh well, you win some you lose some.

On the work front, I'm finishing up my Community Needs Assessment and starting to prepare myself for the projects I want to start once lockdown is over. My organization and much of the community wants to set up a drop in center for orphans and vulnerable children to come after school and get fed/help with homework/play games, etc. We have the space and the help, so I'm hopeful that we'll be able to get that off the ground once we can get some $$. The nurses at the clinic are hoping to start up support groups for those affected by HIV/Aids, with different groups for men, women, pregnant mothers, and children. The educators at the schools want to start after-school programs for the learners, because right now the only extra-curricular activities they are engaging in are alcohol and sex. Though I'm overwhelmed by the need and my limited resources, I'm really excited about the prospects of these projects and what outcomes they might bring.

This weekend I was in Pretoria, taking care of some stuff at the PC office, and hanging out with the volunteers who are about to COS (close of service, i.e. go home). Some of them live nearby to me and have been really helpful with advice on adjusting, and working hard to welcome us newbies. They are also a lot of fun and I'm going to miss them a great deal when they leave. In Pretoria we went out to some delicious meals (pizza, obvi) and saw Sex and the City 2. For those who haven't seen it, don't waste your money. I'm still angry about how absolutely awful it was and I only paid $3 to see it. I then went grocery shopping and stocked up one some good foods that we can't get on this side (hummus!) and headed home. As I lay in bed writing this, my host mom just knocked on the door and said come. I'm still in my pajamas and definitely have not brushed my hair, and I walk into the house to see 5 family members who I haven't yet met sitting in the living room waiting to greet me. Awesome. Though people here may be poor, they take a lot of pride in their appearance. Most people wear clothes nicer than the ones that I had brought, and shoes are huge. Girls trek through the dirt roads in 5 inch heels. And another weird thing, somehow their shoes are always immaculately clean. Without a doubt I always have the dirtiest shoes and get many disapproving looks when I jump onto the bus looking like I've been camping for the past 3 months. So, yes, I am more than a little embarrassed right now.

World Cup is less than 2 weeks away, and people are going crazy. Commercials and advertisements flood TV, radio, and the streets, and every Friday people wear Bafana Bafana (South Africa's team which did not qualify to play but since they were hosting it were allowed to participate, shame) jerseys to show their support. Everyone who doesn't know me in my village or shopping town assumes that I'm here for the World Cup, which is slightly annoying but also kind of funny because even if I was, why would I be out here in the middle of nowhere? Prices for everything (food, clothes, transport) are quickly skyrocketing and my humble Peace Corps stipend is not, so I am having to limit myself to 1 pizza instead of 3 when I go into the city. Just kidding. Or am I? I will be going to a game or two (was able to get SA resident prices for tickets, only about $20 while the rest of the America is paying hundreds...suckas) If anyone is planning on coming out, let me know!

Peace,

Emily

complete with captions! more to come once i start doing more exciting things ;)

http://picasaweb.google.com/EmilyBirchfield/VillageLife#

Well, my clever attempts at avoiding the flu by getting the vaccine unfortunately landed me with, you guessed it, the flu. So I spent the last few days laying in bed whining to myself (because my mom wasn’t there to listen) watching movies and eating toast. As if having the flu wasn’t bad enough, it’s UNBELIEVABLY boring having the flu alone by yourself in your hut. My head was pounding from looking at the little screen of my laptop, and I couldn’t concentrate on a book, so I literally laid around, slept, and waited for it to be night so I could sleep again. Thankfully, it was a quick bug and I’m now feeling top notch.

So nothing too exciting has happened since Pension Day (woohoo!)…I got together with the four other volunteers in my area got together to celebrate one woman’s birthday over lunch in town one day. The only problem is, there isn’t really anywhere other than KFC of Chicken Licken (pretty much as tasty as it sounds) to ‘get lunch’, so instead we bought some fries and some beers and hung out in a secluded area. Drinking alcohol is a very interesting and complicated concept here in rural South Africa. It is only really appropriate for males to drink, and when they drink, they drink. There isn’t so much of a ‘social drinking’ notion, people tend to either abstain completely from drinking (at least in public) or proceed to get completely wasted, sometimes starting at 9 in the morning. As if this was appropriate, for women it is simply not appropriate to consume alcohol, and if you are going to dare to defy the social norm, you cannot drink beer and you absolutely cannot drink from the bottle. So, in the spirit of destigmatization, we sometimes like to get one drink to show that social drinking can be just as fun, or that buying a bottle of wine at the grocery store doesn’t mean I am going to finish it by myself on the taxi ride home. Usually though, we just get a lot of strange looks or ‘what are you doing’ comments. What I have yet to understand a society would tolerate men getting wasted at the taverns from morning until night but all hell breaks loose and everybody finds out when the American girl orders one drink at lunch. I’ve heard a lot of interesting comments at churches or at other NGOs that the community needs to act against the abuse of alcohol, but I haven’t seen anything done about it thus far.

Other insignificant highlights of my week included playing my awesome new purple guitar, making guacamole (and eating it for every meal) ,and baking a DELICIOUS cappuccino chocolate cake. I can’t decide if I’m more ashamed of the fact that I baked in on Tuesday and had finished it by Friday, or that I actually hesitated before offering some to my host family. It’s the simple pleasures that keep me going, ya know?

As for my work, it’s going. I go through days where I get completely overwhelmed by the gravity of the work that needs to be done and I wonder what I can do, and then later in the day I’ll get a surge of optimism and hope for the project ideas that I have. We had a meeting with the nurse at the clinic last week, where she basically chastised them for 2 hours about how they aren’t doing their work and their community is suffering, how the management is not being tough enough, and how they have great ideas for projects but they never follow through. I thought it was great because I was having a difficult time figuring out my place in how I would say those things (clearly in a more lighthearted tone) but the nurse (who oversees the HBC) just shouted it out and BAM, that was that. Some of the caregivers seemed angry, but everyone showed up the next day at 9 am sharp in their uniforms, so here’s to hoping it lasts. We are going to start doing health talks in the clinic, going at 8 am to talk to the patients about various things (HIV, TB, hygiene, healthy living, etc) while they wait to see the nurses. That will give me something to work on as I also start the grant application to start our OVC center.

And finally, in the midst of my pounding headache and nausea, my host brother decided to bang on my door one morning to have me take a picture of the little baby sitting in the drivers seat of the taxi (both my host brother and father are taxi drivers). Here in the village every malady is called the flu, so even though I didn’t think they fully understood how much I didn’t want to get up and take this picture, I sucked it up and did it anyway. After taking the picture, I sat down in the sun and watched the family interact. I really enjoy picking out the cultural differences and then despite those seeing how similar we really are. As my host father was getting ready to leave in his taxi, the 4 year old started hysterically bawling because he didn’t want him to leave. How many times have I seen that happen in America, myself included (the picture of my first day of Kindergarten depicts me with bloodshot eyes and a forced smile because there was nothing in the world that seemed worse than having my mom abandon me in an unknown place that morning). The father picked up the little boy and swung him around, giving him a big hug and a kiss and promising him that everything would be okay. As I watched this, my bout of homesickness combined with my actual sickness made me spontaneously burst out in tears as well, and my host father turns to me and says, “Ungalili Sbongile, ngiyabuya”, meaning,, “don’t cry Sbongile, I’m coming back”. All I could do was laugh and say ‘okay, see you soon’.

My dwelling place..it's a traditional Ndebele hut and it rocks!

This picture was supposed to go with the last blog post

To those of you who I may not have already expressed my unabashed love for this special day (as I like to call it) that occurs once a month. Pensions are essentially a form of welfare; different grants are given to old women (gogos), people who are disabled, and for each child under a certain age. The grants are dispersed at the house of the chief, who conveniently lives next door to me. This means that when the hoards of vendors come to sell their fruits, vegetables, meat, clothing, and other various supplies, I merely have to walk outside and I can buy them all for much cheaper than if I went to town. I like to support the local women who cultivate gardens and grow their own foods that they sell to others in the village for very reasonable prices. I’m talking about $1.50 for a bag of 20 oranges, $1 for six eggs, and $0.30 for an avocado! The other advantage is that instead of schlepping ten pounds of produce onto the taxi, then sitting with it on my lap for an hour or two, and then braving the 1 mile walk home from the bus stop, I only have to cross the road. Plus, today someone gave me a free cookie. But if I’m being honest, hands down the best part of pension day is ICE CREAM truck that travels around the village all afternoon, bringing along with it delicious treats and waves of nostalgia for my childhood when only the ice cream truck could turn of hours waiting for my sister to be done with soccer practice into a leisurely afternoon. I distinctly remember feeling extremely badass when I purchased bubble gum that was packaged to look like cigarettes (not sure which is worse, the fact that those were marketed and sold to naïve children or the fact that I was allowed to buy them).

Long story short, today was awesome. I wanted to buy 1 onion but they had to be bought in a package of 10, so I asked my host sister if I could give her money for 1 of her onions. She said “Don’t be silly I will give it to you for free. You are part of the Thubana family now”. Even though I had already felt that sentiment, that really made me smile. Ice Cream and family love…not a bad day.

I'm working on a new album of pictures but hopefully these can tide you over for a bit

While still in the midst of the 3 month period that many call lockdown (though we are instructed to call it community integration), there isn’t a whole lot going on for me right now. We aren’t supposed to be officially working, but rather using this time to integrate into our community (hence the name) by meeting with organizations, people, and community groups in order to make contacts and build relationships, but most importantly to build trust so that when we do actually start our own projects, people are receptive and interested in helping and working with us. I agree with and understand the concept…but sometimes I just get a little bored. While many are working with their organizations during this period, my home based care doesn’t have much going on at the moment besides doing their daily door-to-door visits. So unless I go to the field with them, which I don’t love to do because it turns from the caregivers giving important information to the patients about health into the patients asking me tons of questions about who I am, why I’m here, and if I know Beyonce and Zac Effron. Though I’m happy to give this information and clearly want to meet all of the community, I just don’t think this is the best forum. So I try to fill my days with various things…I have my little running club, sometimes I hang out at the crèche (preschool/daycare center for children 2-5 years old), often I do show up at random people’s homes to say ‘what up’ (plus they almost always give me warm tea which is a huge plus), and I have been spending a lot of time writing the Peace Corps mandated Community Needs Assessment. This is actually turning out to be a great tool to help me discover what the community and organizations want and need, while also giving me an excuse to do things I would otherwise be REALLY awkward at (i.e. showing up at random people’s houses to say ‘what up’). Often times I leave with good information, and sometimes I am thoroughly confused because someone will adamantly deliver a piece of information that is completely opposite to the piece of information that another person adamantly delivered to me the day before. Alas, slowly but surely, I’m making progress. And though my organization doesn’t have a lot going on, it makes me very hopeful and optimistic about the future. There are so many basic services that are needed in my village, and though sometimes I feel overwhelmed by the enormity of the need in relation to my minimal experience, resources, or general knowledge, I am excited about the prospects and the potential that I see in my village. Maybe I won’t be able to bring my HBC to the level of efficacy of Amnesty International or World Vision, and I probably won’t eliminate HIV/Aids from my village, but I can help to see that the orphans and vulnerable children get fed each day, or that 10 girls are empowered with the confidence and ability to say no. And for now, I think that is good enough for me. My definition of a ‘productive day’, however, has undergone a complete makeover, and since I have had the pleasure of being fun-employed for the past almost year (wow did I really graduate an entire year ago???), thankfully I am pretty used to it. Now, I’m happy if I manage to have a successful meeting with even one person during the day (it’s more difficult than you think), or if I get my laundry done, and on really low days I actually consider a full bucket bath (hair washing included) as workout. Yes, I’ve become that girl. This week my mission was to visit all of the local schools (there are 4 in my village and 1 in the village next to us), to meet with the principles, and to introduce myself to the students. My secret agenda though, is to make sure the children know my name and stop referring to me as ‘Lakuah’ (meaning white person). Despite the fact that Sbongile isn’t really my name, it’s much better in my opinion than being called white person, regardless of the fact that yes I am the only white person around. I didn’t think it would bother me as much as it does, but it does, so I’ve decided to let the youth of the community know that I will no longer respond to whistles, shouts of HEY!!!!!!, or the dreaded Lakuah. I went to the crèche first to commence my mission, because its often the 4 year olds who don’t know (or seem to care) much outside of their toys or the food they are eating at the moment, who often cause the chain of kids and youth screaming “LAKUAH!!!!!” as I walk or run throughout the village. I went to every classroom, and spent 10 minutes explaining (in broken isiNdebele and with the help of the teachers) that my name is Sbongile, not Lakuah. Everything went great and by the end of the day they were all saying ‘bye Sbongile!’. I was ecstatic until I walked by the crèche this morning on my way to the HBC and all of the children that I had spent an entire day instructing, started screaming “HEY LAKUAH!!!!” incessantly until I finally gave in and waved. Damn. So I guess the grass is always greener on the other side. During training I complained about being exhausted from the long days of information sessions, and now I complain about being bored from a lack of projects to keep me busy with. During summer I constantly complained about the suffocating heat, and now I’m already complaining about the cold. Though I finally decided (in the winter vs. summer debate) that I prefer winter, because it’s better to wake up in warm sweats and drink hot tea and eat a big bowl of oatmeal (even if I do have gloves on while I do it), then to get up at 4 a.m. to take a freezing cold bucket bath because it’s too hot to even sleep. You can always get warmer, but without air-conditioning or a pool, it’s difficult to get cooler. Another advantage to winter: no hornets. Due to the fact that I’ve never been stung by a bee combined with my hypochondriac tendencies, I am convinced that I am fatally allergic to any type of bee and so I resultantly loathe them. Now that I think about it though, winter does bring in the rats. I have yet to see a live one near my digs but other volunteers tell stories about using cyanide to kill them daily. Not sure how I’m gonna cross that bridge when I come to it, but until I do, summer will still prevail. I’m starting to see why people like blogging, it’s easy to get lost in my own random and completely unrelated thoughts; also nobody in cyber land has to fake interest in them like they might to my face. Back to what you actually are (or maybe are not) interested in knowing. Tomorrow I’m off to Pretoria for my monthly fix of cheeseburgers, English speaking, and a shower. I am also going to the PC office to brave the flu shot (never had one before but I’m thinking I would rather pass on the prospect of puking all night in my pit toilet), get some books on gardening (our HBC has a garden but nobody tends to it, so one of my first goals is to learn how to get it up and running) and hopefully find those long lost packages waiting for me. I’m still holding out hope that ones sent 3 months ago weren’t lost but just teasing me. Here in rural SA there is no trash service (what a change from good old Newport Beach where we don’t even recycle because they do it for us), and so people burn their trash in large amounts weekly. Yesterday, my baby host brother, who is learning to walk quite quickly, got into the ashes and completely covered himself from head to toe with white ash. And if you’re wondering why his right foot isn’t covered, its because he started peeing on himself (which then sprayed on to me) mid photo session. Enjoy.

Letters/packages/you in a large box

can still be sent to this address. I'm staying close to my old village and still keeping in contact with the family, so I will be able to receive things faster than if you send them to the Peace Corps address.

Emily Birchfield (Or Sbongile Mahllangu)

PO Box 3123

Empumalanga, South Africa

0458

So many people have asked, do you have any friends in your village? I don't really, mostly due to the linguistic barriers that cause most of my conversations to consist mostly of

"hi" "hi" "how are you?" "Good and you?" "Good" "It's hot" "Yes" "Okay, bye Sbongile" "Byebye".

Okay, I'm exaggerating, but it really takes awhile to make sincere friends. But these girls (and my baby host brother who makes a cameo in almost every picture) have the unfailing ability to make me laugh and turn any day into a good one. Most every day (except when they are over it and make up excuses which are completely transparent) they go running or walking with me, and then we will sit on some rocks that overlook the village and chill for awhile. Sometimes they sing and dance, sometimes they make me sing and dance (about as awkward as it sounds), or when we're really feeling wild I will show them yoga moves which they think is absolutely insane but will do just to appease me. Today, we climbed up this mini mountain, and some jr. high age boys (many of you know of my fear of jr. high age boys) followed us from a distance. As we were on our way down the girls were saying that they were going to beat up the boys because they were disrespecting me. I asked what they were saying, and they told me that the boys were saying I was too thin. I think I can handle that one.

Other funny quotes from the week:

Do you have KFC in America?

I'm trying to braid your hair but I can't because your hair is too tall.

I want to make myself your wife (from an old man over some carrots at the grocery store)

so if any of you have seen the totally believable and realistic motion picture Blood Diamond (starring none other than all of our 5th grade crushes, Leonardo Dicaprio) then you probably know the saying, TIA, or This Is Africa. Basically it translates to, on any given day about 95% of the things that you hope to go a certain way...probably won't. You get get mad, you can cry, but you can't really expect anything different, because TIA. In my cumulative time living in Africa I have never actually heard anyone use that phrase, but we as efficiency seeking Americans seem to love it, and hey if it helps assuage an otherwise hair-pulling frustrating situation...then why not.

Take for instance, my experience today. I waited for 4 hours for my taxi to fill up (they are van taxis and won't go anywhere until they are completely at or even over capacity). As I'm already getting nervous that I wouldn't get to where I needed to be before dark, they taxi marshall tells us it will probably be another hour because we still had 3 empty seats. I get out to go to the grocery store and buy a snack, and when I get back I find that the hour had quickly turned into 5 minutes and my taxi had left without me. OMG. I got really pissed, then decided there was nothing i could do, then went and waited another hour and a half for a different taxi to take me back home. after waiting for someone to jump out, 3 more people to jump in, get gas (why we couldn't do that as we were waiting is still unclear to me), taxi breaks down and we are shifted to yet another taxi. 7 hours later I returned home, much poorer and without anything that I actually needed. TIA, man.

I've taken another interpretation of the saying, a personal one which means somehow this time around South Africa has rendered me absolutely crazy. I'm normally very organized, and no matter how late I came home on a given night in college I always put my keys and my wallet in the exact same place...I always know where everything is. Lately, things have been flowing a little differently. A month or so back, I was convinced that someone had stolen my credit card. I couldn't find it anywhere, and after searching my room 3 times I decided there was no alternative...it couldn't have been MY fault, I never lose ANYTHING ;)...On the phone with my mom I'm about to cancel the card and oops, I find my credit card in a bag of instant coffee. WHAT? who knows. Yesterday, I couldn't for the life of me find the R700 (almost $100) that I had taken out to use over the weekend. I knew it was somewhere in my room, but again after searching 4 times I was about to admit defeat when something urged me to look inside a book that I haven't even been reading, and lo and behold, there was my money right in the middle. In the beginning of training, Peace Corps told us to be weary of accusing host families or communities of stealing from you because it seriously affects the relationships that they build a long time spending, and that often times when things are missing its usually because we were so tired or have our minds in 100 different places that we misplace the item. I smugly laughed to myself and thought, "i would neverrrrr do that". well, woke up this morning and couldn't find my phone anywhere. still can't. seriously emily, what the heck????

TIA, man.

Where to begin…after a month of hanging out and waiting to see if organizational issues got resolved (they didn’t) it was decided that there was no way that I could work in my current Home Based Care and that my site would be changed. I couldn’t go to work at this organization for so many reasons, so it was a tough month of hanging out by myself, reading books and watching movies, and waiting for my host sister to get out of school so I could pressure her to hang out with me. Even though I know that this experience is primarily about the community and the development that I can be a part of at the very grassroots level, but during those 2 months our site placements were SO built up and we were all so excited to get started and see what kind of work we would be doing, and it was really discouraging to have none of it work out for me. We all love to have a tangible reason for being where we are and something to feel warm and fuzzy about.

After much deliberation they chose to move me back to the village that I was in for the first 2 months of training. Yes, I packed up and moved out of the house just to move right back in a month later. There is a small Home Based Care that operates in my village, and I definitely have my work cut out for me. I see a lot of potential, but also a lot of challenges that will come with working for an organization with no funding, structure, or apparent direction, but I sense commitment from the volunteers and a desire to go forward. In theory, a Home Based Care is established to address the pandemic of HIV/Aids and other opportunistic infections (like TB) by doing home visits throughout the community and determining those who are sick and in need of help. If people are living alone, they offer palliative care and help with cooking, cleaning, and other various tasks. If people are too sick to get to the clinic, they will bring them there, or bring the medication to them. Some also do prevention education by campaigns or giving health talks at the clinics while people wait to see the nurses. I only had my first day today, so I can’t make assumptions, but I’m not exactly sure which, if any, of the above my organization actually does. I saw this at my last organization and have heard this observation across the board from other volunteers, but nobody ever seems to leave the organization. When I ask when they go out to the homes to visit, they respond, oh we’re going later or oh we go tomorrow. But tomorrow never seems to come. There is an understandable lack of motivation to do such difficult work for no monetary compensation, but something has to change, because while employees sit and chat and have tea and cakes, people are getting sicker.

I had my period of sulking and moping that I wasn’t placed somewhere with more direction and motivation or any seeming desire to do the work I was so excited about doing, but that’s behind me now. I’m back in my old home but I’m ready for a new, fresh start and I have a different perspective about how I will approach the next few months. I know it’s going to be hard but I never thought it would be easy. My village is close to the village that I just came from, so I can maintain the contacts and friendships that I spent the last month making, and I don’t have to feel like it was a total waste. I’ve made a good friend who seems to have similar interests to me, she is my age and studies music at a university in Pretoria, working on projects for orphans in the community, and says she tries to motivate the youth in the community to set goals and follow their dreams even if they aren’t to be the typical Tourism employee or Traffic cop. She has been really kind to me and has helped me out a lot this month, so I hope to be able to stay in contact with her.

I am also excited to be back with my 10 year old friends who go running or walking with me, and I think that the village will be receptive to different projects that I try to start up because they know me, Peace Corps, and we all (or most of us) had a great mutual cohesion within the community. During training PC had us do a community project to practice and to see what challenges we would have in doing such. We put on a Fun Run/Walk or race one Sunday morning and raised money for the Home Based Care organization that I am working at now. It went a lot better than we thought it would, and set a good precedent (unintentionally) for similar projects that I will try to do in the future. The organization told me today that with the money we raised they bought shoes and food parcels for the 54 orphans that live in the community. They are giving them out on Thursday…so if all goes according to plan that will be exciting to see and will make my training group excited to see some tangible results from all of the work that we put in to making the race go smoothly.

It’s always nice to be on the upswing of a low point…I’ve learned a lot during this period and I think in a way maybe it’s better that I hit this point in the beginning and can start fresh while it’s still early. I got my first dose of what we were taught almost every day in training—things will NEVER go as you plan, or as you want them too. I have never heard the words ‘be flexible’ more in my life, but that is exactly what I find myself having to do as I try to get past my own expectations (which I didn’t even think I had) and figure out how I will make the situation work. I’ve had a lot of great support and I am ready to FINALLY get going on something and get the wheels in motion. My baby host brother learned to walk in the month I was away, however absence did NOT make the heart of the 4 year old brother grow fonder…he still seems to have it out for me for reasons unbeknown to me.

Mail can still be sent to the Pretoria address until I’m able to open my own PO Box here in town.

Miss you all like crazy!

So, due to some unforeseen (and some foreseen)circumstances I will be changing locations...sooo if you were planning on sending me a letter or package to the address that I gave you...don't! If you already have, don't worry, I will still be in the area so I can easily pop on over to this village to pick it up. I will give you more details when I know them, but just wanted to say, if you want to send me some Mexican food (totally possible, right?) in a care package, for now you should send it to

Emily Birchfield

Peace Corps

P.O. Box 9536

Pretoria, 0001

South Africa

until further notice.

NGIYABONGA!

Hopefully this link should work...please let me know if it doesnt! these are pictures from the first 2 months of training, my host family at training, my new host family and my room/house at my permanent site, our swearing in ceremony where we officially became volunteers,and some fun times along the way...

http://picasaweb.google.com/EmilyBirchfield/PCTraining#