Lethabo

I can't believe it's been as long as it has since I last posted. Is it really so close to September? I have plans to write and catch the ol blog up... I'll make time this weekend.. but wanted to post a few pictures of some of my favorite people in Metz Village. They're not only some of my favorite people, but they also happen to be in my African family, are really cool, and get what being here may be like for me, someone who is a volunteer, an outsider, an American, and white. Maite (Sofia), MmaKgomo (Margaret), Karabo, Lethabo, and Charlie (Leshabane) have all shown me so much love since I've been here. This morning, on my way to work, I stopped by their house to take some photos of the whole family with Lethabo who was 7 weeks old yesterday. This blog is for the Phokungwane family that lives across the road from me. I don't think they will ever know how much they have done for me and how much they mean to me.
Lethabo Phokungwane 7 weeks and one day old

Three generations with a Charlie,too!
Maite (Sofia, Margaret's daughter), MmaKgomo (Margaret, MmaDiapo's neice), Lethabo (Maite's youngest daughter), Karabo (Maite's oldest daughter), and Charlie (Maite's cousin's son)

There is nothing like starting your morning off playing with some kids. When I first moved into my room, Charlie was very afraid of me, always backing away whenever I would come near, crying if I got too close... and now when I sit down with the family, he comes and crawls on my lap and makes himself at home. Love it.

A Typical "Busy" Day...Combination of Social Time and Work

My Thursday...exhausting, but I got a lot done.
6:15am- woke up. Dad called last night and we talked until almost 11(late!). I was wired on cold drink I drank with Tanya when we were hanging out with Collen and Beshu (work colleagues). Had tea, read a little, and managed to send off a couple important emails.
8am- worked a little on blogs and organizing my photos. Got dressed and ate Rice Krispies for breakfast.
9am-walked to post office with Elayna (for the last time!) and Christy (a new volunteer who will be taking over at Lepellele, the organization Elayna has been working with since last year in Mabens which is about a 30 minute taxi ride from Metz). Said hi to John and Victor and made sure to find out when they would both be around for picture taking with Tanya and I. Mailed off some stuff to the States and a few funding proposals Synett has worked very hard on went to Polokwane and Pretoria.
11am- checked in with my office. Synett is bored because there's nothing really to do... no money for transport to go see patients and check on drop ins, proposals have all been written up for the day. Hang out for a little while. Walk to Kodumela with Elayna and Christy to see Tanya and meet up with Nick. Three generations of PCV's all in the same room! Elayna and Tanya representin' SA-15, Mmapula SA-16, and Nick and Christy SA-17. Talked to Ledile, Program Manager for Kodumela, about planning community gardens for Maruleng CHBC (my organization) drop-in centers. Have to have a plan for getting food if funding from local government isn't going to be reliable.
12pm- walked to post office with Nick and discussed the difference between being negative and being realistic. I hashed out some things that have been really bothering me this week... and thanked him for listening. I'm really glad he's my closest neighbor after the SA-15s leave. Checked mail and got a letter from Grandma! It was good to hear from her... and it seems we were thinking of each other right around the same time, I sent one to her just a few days after she sent her's off.
1pm- walked to main tar road to catch a taxi to fax a funding proposal to an HIV/AIDS prevention organization funded by Irish Aid. Sat in the back of the taxi where I could open a window and have the breeze cool me off. After we had dropped off the last guy at Moshate, I asked the driver to drop me at the Lorraine Cross. He jumped. I had scared him, he thought he was alone in the taxi.. that there were no other passengers... he aplogized for not noticing I was still around and for his singing. I thanked him for the ride and paid him my R5. Walked through the door of the business office, greeted the woman (who was not Salvia, the woman who is usually working), and learned that the fax was down (just like all the faxes in Metz and the one at the hospital). Walked outside and ran to catch the driver who had just dropped me off. "Will you take me to the post office at Trichrdtstal?" He thought for awhile... it is a little farther down the road and not where a lot of people coming back down this way will be hanging out. Taking me would be out of his way. He agreed. Another R5 later, I'm on my way.
2pm- He dropped me off in the parking lot right next to the women selling fruit under the tree. I bought a banana and walked inside. Oh yes, I could send a fax, yes it was working. I started thanking the woman profusely. "Oh this is great! This really makes my day! I really needed to send this off and no other faxes are working!" My comments are met with a smile and an "Alllllllright." She takes the proposal and steps into the back. I hear the busy signal loud and clear before she even emerges to tell me the number is busy. Will I wait or would I like to take my papers and go? No. I'll wait. I'll just be outside using the phone. I'll come back after I make a call. Thank you.
3pm- Call Dominique to check in in the States. I love... LOVE... that there is a public phone "nearby" that can be used with my calling card. I wake her up, we talk for an hour, and she catches me up on all the happenin's in Austin. Getting off the phone is bittersweet. I've been distracted. Although people have been watching me for an hour and there is a little girl who has stared at me the whole time, I've beenso focused on the conversation and how normal it felt... it felt the same as if we would have talked in Austin... being 5 miles away instead of thousands. We say our goodbyes and I'm thrust back into reality with more of a spring in my step.
4pm- fax has been sent! All is well. I walk out of the post office to the tar road and start to worry I may not get a ride for awhile. The worry lasts mere minutes. I walk a little ways and am picked up by a taxi not 10 minutes after hanging up the phone. I catch the taxi back to Metz and am dropped off at the cross by Taposa Bakery. I see Maite walking to get meat for supper and yell her name to catch up. I see Synett leaving the office... the AIDS prevention organization has called, the fax has been received. We talk while Maite comes back from the bakery empty handed. Maite and I walk to the other tuck shop to see if they may have chicken legs for sale. We look in the freezer and see nothing but bags and bags of frozen chicken necks. She decides on Hot Chilli Pilchards (fish) in a can. We walk to her house and hang out out back by the cooking fire for a little while. I hold Lethabo (who is 7 weeks old), I make Karabo laugh, we make plans to take family photos, and I let them know my parents are coming to visit... ask them to help me with a few ideas I have.
5pm- Maite, Karabo, and Lethabo walk me to my gate. As I'm passing the kraal where all the cows have been put away for the night, I watch the sun slip behind the mountains. Maite laughs when she sees me pull out my camera, "Mmapula you take many photos!" I unlock my door, take out mac and cheese/ green beans leftovers and put them on the stove to heat.
6-9pm I eat, I write a few emails, I address a letter to be sent, I write my blog, I wash my hair and bathe, and I start a new book.
9:30pm- my light is off, my fan is on, my door is locked, and Van Morrison is singing me to sleep.

The post office with the fax and the public phones! Just a R10 taxi ride from Metz Village right in the middle of a bunch of private, Afrikaner owned farms.
The view of the sunset from my yard. Beautiful.

The Trip That Side

Cape Town is clear across the country from Limpopo where I stay... and it is clearly different from any place I've been in Limpopo or anywhere else this side of the country. Very European in feel, bordered by the South Atlantic Ocean, full of coffee shops, good food, good sites, and a false sense of security (we felt really safe in the beginning before we were shocked back to reality and were reminded that we were still in South Africa and needed to be on our guard). Some highlights and memorable times for me were wine and cheese tasting in Franschhoek, staying in our own room full of bunkbeds at the backpackers, driving to Cape Point and The Cape of Good Hope to stand on the beach of the most south westernly point of the African continent, taking Olan Mills style photos on the beach, Nathan treating us to a nice dinner (I tasted good wine, had a tomato basil soup for a starter, swordfish with avocado as a main course, and ate my share of the desserts we all ordered) and showing of 'The Fully Monty" musical, freaking out while standing at the The Cape of Good Hope Castle key exchange ceremony when the mini cannon was lit and fired (the guard warned us, but I really didn't think such a little cannon could make such noise... and, of course, I was talking through his warnings), getting coffee in the afternoons, creating our own cheese platters with good bread, having a "share shelf" in our room where we put food (mostly chips, chocolate, fruit, gummies, etc.) so we could constantly be eating, driving down to Hermanus in the rain to see whales off the coast (I really felt like I was on the edge of the world), having Nathan stand with me and try to distract me so I wouldn't puke my guts out while on the ferry to Robben Island... my pal Victor was very attentive, checking in throughout the whole trip to see how I was doing, seeing the boat that brought inmates who had been freed from Robben Island back to the mainland, talking to some American "activists" about my work here and what my experience has been like, staying in a fancy beach house in Simons Town, washing all my clothes in a real washer and watching cable TV while drinking hot chocolate, watching the sunrise over the ocean from the second floor porch at the beach house, seeing African Penguins in their natural habitat!, driving the Corsa Lite all over the place (stick shift, two doors, and 5 people), talking to Keri about how exhausted and out of it we were while at the airport, thinking of walking from the domestic terminal right on over to the international one while in the airport, gettin' a chocolate bar in my vegetarian meal on the flight, walking into the men's restroom at the airport with Keri and noticing we were in the wrong place after considering that the airport really has coed restrooms, and all the talking and good time I spent with some of my very, very close friends here.
Keri and I posing, Olan Mills style, with Cape Point just to the left of us, in the distance.
Sittin' on the edge of the world.

Rainbow out over the Atlantic Ocean. Although our trip was quite rainy, that meant a lot of rainbows!

A view of the backpackers we stayed in in Franschhoek. We spent an evening sitting around a big table, next to a fire in the fireplace, drinking wine and hot chocolate, eating cheese and other food we'd picked up at the Pick 'n Pay that stayed open 'til 9 (! this is unheard of around where I live!), listening to the creek flow just outside the kitchen. Oh and yeah we cruised around Franschhoek listening to Culture Spears in the Corsa Lite.

A view of Table Mountain from the car.

This picture is compliments of Justin. This is what Mmapula looked like when she finally got back on land after a 45 minute boatride to Robben Island. I didn't throw up, but definitely had to fight the urge. When you're feeling sick on a boat it helps to look at the horizon, what happens when you can't see the horizon because the boat is rocking too much? Dramamine next time!

A picture of the Blouberg boat taking prisoners who were freed from the island back to Cape Town and the mainland.

Nelson Mandela's cell was the fourth one from the left. We had a chance to quickly walk by it and see just how small his cell was.

This is a picture of me and my friend, Victor, the guy who was so nice and helpful throughout the rides to and from the island. He provided me with the barf bag I never had to use and led me (and Nathan) up to the top of the boat to get some fresh air even though it had been roped off to other passengers.

Maybe the boat was rockin' so much because of this storm that was settling over the Victoria and Albert Waterfront?

Sunrise over the ocean from the porch of the beach house we stayed in in Simons Town.

African Penguins on the beach in Simons Town.

the hump

You know when something feels a little bit off? Where you feel like you're carrying around something extra? Last night after talking to my mom I just couldn't go to sleep, my stomach was knotted. Maybe I was wired because of all the brownie batter (and then brownies) I ate in the afternoon or maybe it was because my mind was reeling with all the things I felt like I HAD to get done in the next few days. Maybe it was a little bit of both. I'm leaving in a few days to head to Cape Town for the first time since I've been in the country, I have a few things I want to finish up before I leave, and things just seem a little more complicated than usual... or maybe I'm just a little more sensitive than usual. I haven't had knots in my stomach in months and sleep usually comes fairly easy here just cause I'm so tired a lot of the time and love the idea of lying peacefully in my bed. After tossing and turning for 45 minutes I turned to my old standby when it comes to sleep remedies... good ol Valerian. Popping a couple of those pills reminded me of nights in Austin before I started this whole process... this whole experience. There were nights where I would lie awake wondering where I was going to be posted or what my room would look like when I went to bed in a new place. And there were nights where I would wake up in a cold sweat... a little shaken... and once my eyes adjusted to my room.. my Austin room... I was reassured and could, at least, attempt to go back to sleep (although it took a little while)because I was still home, in a familiar place. I had been thinking about applying to Peace Corps for years before I actually did it. My trip to Belize, for a WEEK, in 2004 had me longing for a little hut on Hummingbird Highway... when I got to Belize City and caught a taxi I tried to conjure up ways, with the 5 local guys we picked up on the way to the airport (3 were drunk and had been picked up at the bar), I could stay in the country on the 50 bucks left to my name. When I was on the road during the Great Trip West in the fall of 2005 I was soothed by my freedom and all that my eyes were taking in... the canyons, the arches, the mountains, the caverns, the big trees, the great bodies of water, the moon, the train whistles, the sun, the wide open sky. In the Winter of 2006, right after the beginning of the New Year, I drove my Grandpa to town to pick up some cat food and a King Cake at Marceaux's Grocery and he asked me to swing by the new library. We didn't get out of the car, but we did sit in the parking lot for a few minutes before we headed towards home sweet home. He asked me if I was interested in being a librarian like my mom, I said I had thought about it, and he told me that whatever I did he would be proud of me. All of those moments... and about a bagillion other ones... pushed me a little closer to finishing the application I had been sitting on for a year... pushed me through that process... to get to this experience. I landed in South Africa one year ago today. I think, about now, on 21 July 2007 I was writing my first journal entry in country. How time flies. And oh how it just drips, drips, drips slowly.
So when I woke up this morning I was coming out of a Valerian haze (it calms some people... it knocks me out) at 6:45, a little later than usual. I heard Mabu, the shepherd, arrive for his work day, open the door to the room he keeps his bike in. and stared at the ceiling until 7. My stomach in knots, I counted all the places I could see the sky in my tin roof... all those places that show light, but don't leak when it rains. I got up, made tea, worked on a couple work emails that lightened my load a little, and then headed to work in time for our Monday morning, 9 am staff meeting. Stomach still knotted. I typed up a few things in the office. I talked to coworkers... on the outside no one could tell anything. I wanted to leave, but didn't want to miss the meeting so was waiting things out. Sat for a good while trying to figure out how I was going to get my leave request to Peace Corps, all the fax machines in the area are down because someone stole the cables. How I was going to finish up an application I've been sitting on for weeks now. And then a car drove up outside the door and a man and woman rushed in, rapidly speaking Sepedi, sitting in the chairs provided for visitors, going through all the greetings through clenched teeth. Stomach turns, knots go tighter. I know part of my job is to be there to support my office and learn all the ins and outs of here... well that's what I like to do anyway...but as soon as this man started speaking, yelling, rather, all I wanted to do was run. Stomach acid churning. I sat at the computer with my back to the whole office and tried to translate as much as I could. This man, in his fancy car, was from Pretoria and was representing his mother who was a carer for my organization until this morning. Last Thursday, there was a carers' meeting in the office... a meeting where they all showed up and sat in rows of plastic chairs facing Synett, Mogale, and Esther who sat behind the office furniture table. Synett handed out envelopes filled with their stipend for July, no back pay to cover the last 3 months they haven't gotten paid though. Then, Esther spoke softly to them, told them that The Department of Health was instructing all NGO's (this goes for all the NGO's I know of in the local area) receiving funding to reduce the number of carers working for them to 26. Our office had 32. 6 women would be let go and the carers would know if they still had a job when they answered their phone Monday morning and there was someone from the home based care office on the other end of the line. If they didn't get a call, they didn't have a job anymore. My office has no money. Some of them seem to think that I'm here to bring them money. My coworkers are using the ink in the printer to make copies of job applications, their certificates, and ID's so they can mail things off and hopefully find a job that pays. They show up at 8 am every morning and work until 4 and they haven't been paid in 3 months. There is no stability. Kids aren't showing up to our drop in centres anymore because there is no food, the meat went first, then the beans, and finally the last of the mealie meal. Kids who have no food were relying on the one meal a day the drop in provided and now they don't rely on that. My supervisor is out of the office until October for maternity leave or it was, at one time, maternity leave, but she's using the time to cope and heal because she went into premature labor on the 4th of July. Both her twin baby girls died that weekend. I was told if I am threatened by anyone connected to the carers losing their positions I am to direct the people who threaten me to the office. The board hasn't met in a few months. We're all trying in that box with the two windows and the computers and the desks and big metal cabinet that is the "kitchen" holding the tea and bread and tea fixin's, but man, it's a battle. I'm here for capacity building... to help with sustainability... and everywhere I turn in that office I see smiling faces, people I care about, who have taken care of me, who are worried about their future... and then my mind floods with ideas on where we should focus, what we should do to take care of some needs. Funding for food for kids, stipends for carers, salaries for the office workers, educational health talks, income generating projects so the office can be more independent, donations, contributions, pats on the back, support... and my mind spins and the knots get tighter. I know, realistically, that there needs to be some boundaries, I need to to step back and not get worked up, and usually I'm able to do that. My absorption time limit is at about 2 1/2 weeks now. I can see and hear things that hurt, absorb the images of homebound patients sick with TB/AIDS, kids that don't have food, whole families living in a room the size of mine, push aside my own longings for a good hug from home, and deal... for over 2 weeks. Then around that time I crack. Sometimes it drags me down for a good couple of days, sometimes all I need to do is go to bed, sometimes I just need to cry, sometimes I just need a vacation.. some time away to get some perspective. It depends. I never want to stop this kind of work though. I might want to walk away from my office, but I'm always back the next day.
Things are tougher than I imagined them being. I guess it's always like that... you have an idea of some place, some thing or some person and once you see it or meet them or are given time to just be with such things/people... you learn all the little details of the bigger picture, things just get fleshed out, and your original thoughts aren't as sharp as they once were... they're blurred with all those little details. It's tougher here than I imagined... but I'm tougher than I imagined. When you're faced with awful things, when you absorb a lot of negativity, a lot of dark... and you need to be recharged... you can also see the things that are shining light that much brighter. Kids' smiles radiate, conversations that involve cultural exchange can be hilarious, you respond to peoples' "I'm so proud of you"'s with "I'm so proud of YOU" instead of a shrug and a brush off, dancing is a release, MmaDiapo filling my water barrel, taking me with her to funerals, showing me so many things, and laughing with such humor all making me smile, coffees with good friends are like birthday parties because they're so special and not so everyday, Synett's laugh when we talk about things that make me realize she's a true friend, the mountains behind a blue sky full of fluffy white clouds make you stare with your mouth open, the moon, as full as it can be, rises and you take the time to stand in the yard and watch its slow ascent. Some things are sad and hard to take... but you fight. You fight because you can change some of those sad things so the moon will still look beautiful, you can be proud of yourself and other people, so proud, you can have all those cups of coffee, you can dance and not care what other people think, and so kids' smiles will still radiate.
I know all this. I believe it. I don't think it's too idealistic because it's all right in front of me. BUT I'm not sure if all that fighting can help change so many things that are so hard right now. So I'll just sigh, I'll still go to work, I'll still try, I'll take all the necessary breaks, I'll breathe through the stomach knots, I'll take Valerian, I'll eat Nutella, and I'll make changes where I can... cause that's what I can do and that's what I want to do.

Happy Birthday, Madiba

“Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won’t feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It’s not just in some of us; it’s in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others." -Nelson Mandela

So THAT'S how a sweet potato grows!

Yesterday, instead of fightin' to figure out what I was going to do in the office all day, I stayed back at my house and hung out with the family. We had a pretty "village in Africa" kind of day. Right now there is a water shortage.. and the communal taps are turned on on Wednesdays and Saturdays.. SO... while my family members were filling up wheelbarrows with empty jugs to take, to fill, I stayed back and watched the bore hole we have in the yard (kind of like a well)... that was giving some water, but at a slow trickle. My job was to entertain the kids and transfer water from the bore hole buckets to big water drums in the yard when the buckets got full (this took awhile).. in the mean time I played with Karabo (one of the coolest kids ever and my cousin) and Pheteletso (a little boy who has been visiting the family). We played with one of those big balloons that has the rubber band attached to it for bouncing... then it popped... I gave them each a plastic scary monster finger puppet.. then
they fought over which color they wanted... we colored... until they had used every sheet of paper I had brought out... and finally we just played in the dirt until it was time to dump the water... and we all carried the bucket to one of the big water drums in the yard to fill. Eventually about 5 big water drums and my little one were filled by about noon. It was a long morning, but now we have water for the rest of the week. I ate lunch and read some in my room before heading to the farm with MmaDiapo. I've been wanting to go since I first moved here and Wednesday we walked down the tar road towards the hospital, towards the farm! The farm... a small space of land that is crammed with beetroot, spinach, tomatoes, banana trees, mangos, avocados, sweet potatoes, mealie meal, green beans, cabbage, and morope (a root that is like a turnip... not much taste.. boil it and mash like potatoes). It was a nice afternoon. Really nice. Our mission was to fill the black bucket MmaDiapo had brought from home, some people in Metz wanted to buy some sweet potatoes.

In preparation for digging, MmaDiapo put on her big sun hat and took off her shoes.


Posing with all the sweet potatoes she found. Some plants were more fruitful than others, we found some potatoes the size of my hand! The rolled up mealie meal bag on the ground next to her was used as a cushion when she carried the bucket ALL THE WAY HOME on her head.


And walking home. I will always be impressed with the strength women in the village have. They work hard and are the glue in the community. The water to MmaDiapo's right comes from the dam and is used to irrigate the farm. All along the inside of the trough there are holes that are blocked with tree stumps and rocks. When land needs water, these plugs are removed to let it flow.

Living Quarters

When I got my shelves in my room a few months ago I mentioned that I would post pictures of my room after I had settled in, unpacked. MmaDiapo and I were talking yesterday about how small she thinks my room is... and how she's hoping to give me some more space when her new house is finished. Yeah, it's small... I would even go so far as to say it's tiny... but I love it. It's my space... and I've worked hard to make it a little retreat, a place that I enjoy being in. Did I mention it has the best bed, places to put my stuff, and pictures that make me smile on the walls? What more could you want? Enjoy the tour....

"Old" Room

This picture was taken at the beginning of December, about a week after I moved in. It was rainy season, my walls were leaking, and the best bed and I had yet to meet. That's my bath bucket in the foreground..some things just don't change!


Because I spent the first 3 months in the village in the house with my first (or second, depending on how you look at it) host mother I didn't buy much with my settling in allowance... besides a bazillion Jungle Bars (chocolate covered granola bars). My first big purchase for my room? An electric kettle to boil my drinking water and for tea! For 3 months I lived off of a diet of tuna, granola, granola bars, soy milk, peanut butter, pap, chicken, and, yes, ramen noodles. I am so glad I'm beyond those days. The backpack on the floor is the one I lived out of until I could unpack my "non- essentials" bag.

What my room looks like... NOW. To get the full feeling... pretend you're the hands of a clock and follow the pictures around.

My door is just to the left in the picture. There are 3 of my new shelves (they hold my food) and the cupboard MmaDiapo gave me that I use for all my hygiene stuff and my books, PC papers, the letters I've gotten since I've been here, and all the random stuff I'm not sure what to do with. A few items to note: the mop: very important when it comes to gettin' up all the water that I sloshed out of the bucket when taking my bath, OMO: the washing powder that has a way of being tough on your clothes... and your hands, iron: I can't even begin to tell you how many times I've come out of my room and people have asked, "You're going to work like THAT? Do you own an iron?", Gueydan Museum tote bag: important to represent where you come from!, very top of cupboard: storage area for all my grocery bags, books: I'm slowly making my way through all of these... PCV's like to share and we like to read.


This is what I see every morning when I wake up (notice my "Thank you for this life" paper). Items to note: my "closet": a bit of twine around the posts holding up my roof and I've rigged a place to hang my clothes, underneath closet: bucket storage area, purple yoga mat peaking out from behind my clothes, orange towel: AMAZING. quick dry!, my shelves: hold all of my clothes.


What you see when you open my door and stare straight ahead. Items to note: my purple fuzzy blanket thanks to PC, my map of South Africa (with everyone's sites documented), my Doctors Without Borders world map, the BEST bed!


All my pictures, my fridge, the chair I'm borrowing from MmaDiapo's kitchen. Items to note: handheld Yahtzee, Nalgene I bought in Estes Park with Texas sticker bought at Carlsbad Caverns, people I love, wire Acacia tree I bought by the taxi rank in Tzaneen, my cell phone, and three important books: Tao Teh Ching, Word Power Made Easy, and the journal I keep of things I don't want to forget about living in South Africa.


And last but not least... my kitchen. Items to note: my oven, blue bucket is for food, greenish bucket is for water, curtains are compliments of my family, cold drink bottle that needs to be returned, Cubs hat, tile floor, blue door, and Timbuk2 messenger bag that is TOUGH!