the election. OH! THE ELECTION!

History is happening! All across The United States right now, as I get ready for bed, people have already voted or are going to vote sometime today.. and although I can't be there in person to watch it all unfold.. I'm going to try my hardest to keep up while here in South Africa. I'm going to bed in the next few minutes and will wake up early, early tomorrow morning (the first returns come in around 2am our time)to check on the results. I just wanted to thank everyone for voting, for taking the time out to make your voice heard. While I was walking to catch a taxi today, and proudly wearing my Obama shirt, I passed two high school girls who greeted me in English. After all the hello's and how are you?'s one said," Obama. Today is Election Day in your country. People are voting. I've heard he would make a good leader." And it clicked once again that this just isn't about America and The United States... people all over the world are watching.

Simbas? Check. Cold Drink? Check. Giggly girls? Check.

It's been a long time since I last wrote and there's a ton of stuff to catch up on. I'm not sure how I'm going to swing it... if I'm going to back date a couple of blogs or what... but one thing's for sure (Esther always says that), if I write about last night right now... then I won't be SO behind.
Ok... eating some Reese's Peanut Butter cups and oh yeah, we're gonna talk about a birthday party...
Last week, around dusk, just as the rains were coming in for the night, Phenyo called me to the front fence in my yard to receive my invitation to her birthday party. On the 3rd of November everyone was supposed to show up at 4, there would be cake and singing, and the celebrating should wrap up in time for everyone to walk home before dark... or that was the plan anyway. Yesterday I came home from my office at the usual time and was very much looking forward to escaping the heat by lying on my bed, in the darkness of my room, with my fan pointed directly at me. I ended up doing this long enough to finish an article in a Newsweek that's a good 3 months old and then there was a knock at the door... Phenyo and Berlina all dressed up asking where I had been. Uh, yeah. Party foul. It was party day. It was 4:45. Mmapula was nowhere to be found... and yes, everyone was waiting. I scrambled to put on shoes... to gather up her birthday present... to follow the dress code of black and white (didn't have anything white so we went with a baby blue shirt instead)... and we headed next door to start all the festivities. We walked through the gate and I was greeted by about 6 or 7 kids ranging from 8 to 13. We shook hands. We greeted. Hello, how are you?, I'm fine and you? And then we walked in the house. Nothing was really ready... no one was really stressed.. and it became a group activity to decorate the table and put the candles on the cake. Tsebiso spelled out "Phenyo, 11 yrs" in pineapple candies. MmaLebu opened bags of Simbas (chips) and sprinkled them onto plates. Apples and oranges were arranged all around the table. Mma Rapola sat with me in the living room and we talked about America. Sweat poured down my back, inbetween my shirt and skin. The air was still and hot. Little girls giggled and tried to figure out the seating arrangements. And then there was the party, with MmaLebu, age 10, who was the MC for the evening and led us through the party program..it went a little somethin like this (with Mmapula sitting to the left of the birthday girl):
*We started off with a welcoming prayer and then listened as Rra Rapola read to us from the book of Genesis and explained that. on this special day, we were not only celebrating Phenyo, but also God... for God gave us Phenyo.
*Then it was time for a speech from Phenyo's parents. Mma Rapola stood up and praised God for his gift to the world, thanked Sesi Mmapula for coming and celebrating with the family, and thanked Phenyo for being such an imaginative, strong, and creative girl. Phenyo means "victory" in Sotho and the family felt as though they had come into victory when the last born was born.



*Then the guests were asked to stand up and each give a little speech. Mmapula went first. I used to think things like this were awkward.. but after finding myself in so many situations where I've been asked to talk... I think I do awkward rather well. I stood up and thanked Phenyo for allowing me to celebrate her special day with her family and friends, thanked her for her friendship, and said that I most certainly agreed with everyone when they said that God had given us a gift.
* Then the candles were lit and everyone around the table counted to 11 while Phenyo blew them out.
* The first slice of cake was cut with Phenyo and I both holding onto the knife (just like we were gettin married)... and while Phenyo tried to fit as much cake as she could into her mouth, we all counted to 11. And then, with a full mouth, she stood still as MmaLebu took icing and smeared it all over her face and then did the same to the rest of us sitting around the table.
* We prayed over the food we were about to consume, then cold drink was brought out, Fanta Pine and Coke, and everyone toasted to Phenyo. To 11 years. To God. To friendship and family. And we ate and drank all the sweets and Simbas and Coke and watermelon and cake until the table was pretty much cleared and we were stuffed.
* What was left of the party food was divided amongst the guests... kids got empty Simba bags and put little marshmallows and sweets and chips into them for take away.
* We prayed and thanked God for such a nice party and for everyone to go well.
At 6:30, we started the walk home. Although I live right next door, I walked with Phenyo and her mom to all the other houses before stopping off at mine at the end. Lightning was lighting the sky, the mountains were aglow every few seconds, all our bellies were full of sweets, and the sugar rush was starting to hit. A breeze was starting to pick up... the temperature had dropped a little, things weren't as still. It was a nice walk. We made a big square, dropped 3 little girls at their gates, and then walked up the main tar road in Metz. The street lights hadn't come on yet and it felt freeing to be walking around at such a quiet time.
I got back into my room and within the next 15 minutes the wind began to pick up. Lightning was a little more frequent. Rain looked to be on its way. Yes! 10 minutes later there was a full on thunderstorm... and 10 minutes after that, after I thought it couldn't get any louder in my room with the rain hitting the tin roof, it started to HAIL. HAIL! What?! There's a first time for everything.. and last night was a first for hail in good ol Metz while I've been here. Hail! Geez. For a good hour it sounded like golf balls were coming down from the sky...the wind was howling... my roof was shaking.. and dirt was flying around coating everything in my room. I thought for sure there was a good possibility that my roof would just blow off (the tin doesn't lie flush with the walls so air can get underneath it) and then all the sudden the wind died down and the noise just turned back to rain. It rained and it rained and the lights flickered and finally the lights just went out. Electricity was out. I climbed into bed and listened to the frogs and the still and finally drifted off to sleep in a pool of my own sweat. When the electricity goes out, the fan goes off....
This morning I woke up with it cool... a nice 70 degrees compared to yesterday's 95.. at 6:30 the sun was covered by clouds and a mist hung heavy on the mountains. The cool very much worth the sweltering still of last night. Welcome to the rainy season! The time when we all pray (and I try to pull some strings,because, after all, I am the Mother of the rain) for rain in hopes that crops will grow plentiful and December and January will provide us with plenty of mangos to eat straight off the tree, mealies for all the meal needed for bogobe (porridge) and the cattle, bananas, guavas, papayas, tomatoes. With the rain comes new life.

Penelope Wren Alynne Smith

September 24, 10:48 a.m., 6lb, 9 oz, 19 inches.
I'll admit, I was a little sad at the thought of having to let go of the name Metallica for the little girl we were all expecting... BUT how can I not call her by her given name?! It's too good. Too perfect. Congratulations Otto-Smith Family! Penelope, get all those girls to tell you some stories... and I'll see you in a year, when, girl, we got some catching up to do.

From where I stand, this is what I know

It's been awhile. I know this. Things have happened... a lot of things have happened, but the ol computer has been sort of sickly... and for some reason I can't get iPhoto to work properly... good thing I have a computer whiz (actually 2!) as my closest volunteer.... soon Crispin (the Apple) will get tuned up and I'll be back to posting pictures and what what.
For now, GASP, I will just rely on words to relay all the happenin's with Mmapula.
I feel like I've lost my feeling for words. I haven't been in the mood to write... letters, blogs, journal entries...but I'm gonna try... bear with me...
MmaDiapo is outside right now, in the chicken coop, burning huge logs full of "very dangerous and cruel, cruel, bugs" that she thinks are responsible for sucking the blood of her chickens and making them sick. I stood at the chicken wire fencing and watched for a long time, talked to her about how awful and cruel these things really were. She cares so much for her chickens.... and her cows... and her farm... and her family.
This past weekend, on Saturday, I went to a funeral. I woke up at 5, stayed in bed until 5:30, and then finally got up to iron my funeral clothes, wash my hair, and eat breakfast, all before 6. This is the way I roll... if I can stay in bed just a little longer, those few minutes are worth it even if I'm frantically running around for half an hour trying to get ready by 6 when Linda (MmaDiapo's sister-in -law) is coming by to get me. I was ready by 6... and I was clean... and I was ironed.. and when I opened my door, just a little flustered, Linda laughed.. so I guess I didn't look as put together as I thought. Every funeral I've been to has been on a Saturday... and I've been to my share. I don't go every weekend, but between the burial society MmaDiapo belongs to, the gigantic Phokungwane family, and members of the Presbyterian Church, I very well could have every Saturday morning marked with a funeral on the ol calendar. Death is prominent here. It's in your face. It's frequent. It's sad. And as Esther has said, " We handle it because we have to, it's life". So I met up with Linda. We walked to the main tar road in Metz and caught a taxi because MmaDiapo had taken her car the night before to go help cook... and it was too far to walk. By 6:30 we're at the family's home. My head was covered with a black scarf. There were no empty seats, so we stood at the very back with all the other late comers. We prayed, we sang, we listened to the preachers, we responded, and then we watched as the coffin was carried out of the family home and lifted into the Mercedes Benz mini van that was acting as a hearse. Standing there watching the family pile into the hearse.. front seats and some side ones right by the coffin... and filling the two Mercedes Benz sedans.... I closed my eyes when I saw the daughter and granddaughter walking by with tears streaming down their faces. After the hearse left the family gate, we rushed, in the herd of people, to find a way to get to the graveyard. I think we walked about 10 feet before Linda made friends with another guest and soon we were in the backseat, driven by a nice young man, the lady's son, to the graveyard. 7:30. We prayed. We bowed. We kneeled. We watched the coffin being lowered into the ground. And then I had to brace myself for the rush of men that approached the large pile of dug dirt to put on top of the coffin, to bury this woman. I always cry. I really always do. I think it's out of sadness for the person who has died, but I think it's also out of profound gratitude for all the people who are there and the sense of community I always feel. This is what people do every weekend. Men spend Friday afternoon digging the grave... the same men who dug the graves for the weeks before... and then they go sit at the family's house under a tent and spend the whole night drinking and eating and carrying on. Women spend the whole night singing and praying and looking over large (VERY large) cooking pots of pap, cabbage, gravy, chicken, butternut, the usual. And when Saturday morning rolls around, the women are still there finishing up the cooking, the men are slaughtering the cow, and people go to the graveyard. We're talking a hundred and fifty to two hundred people. So, at the graveyard, right after the coffin is lowered into the ground, there is always this whooshing sound... a sound of wind... right after the preacher has finished his last prayer, as men approach the dug dirt. They all focus on the dirt and head in that direction. One or two will start, shovel a few shovel fulls of dirt, then the man behind him will grad the handle and shovel a few shovel fulls of dirt... and this goes on until all the dirt has been transferred and there is a mound. Family members then decorate the mound with ribbon bouquets, flowers (real and fake), and large rocks that will hold everything in place. And then, there's a rush for the gate, people head towards the cars,taxis, and bakkies they came in and we head back to the family's house to devour the food that the women have been cooking all night. When we got back to the house I took off my headscarf and watched as members of the ZCC (Zion Christian Church) were "cleansed" outside the gate. (Water that has been blessed is splashed on their faces by a tree branch and they each drink some. This is to cleanse the inside and outside of their bodies). I stood in a long line for food and by the time I got up to the front, where all the food was, I was only given little dabs of everything left because they were running out. Linda and I found seats and ate while I greeted a few people I knew. When finished, after I gave my plate to all the dish washers, I found MmaDiapo over in the back washing cups. She asked how everything was at the house because she had spent the night away and in reply to me saying that there were no problems, she said " Ah, Mmapula, you are a good shepherd, when I go away you keep things in order. I am glad to have you around." And I smiled. Linda and I were heading to catch a taxi and I thought about how much I've found a place here. I mean, I'll never not stick out, but I know people... and they know me... and for most of them the novelty has worn off and I'm just a person... I'm not white, I'm not American, I'm not a dollar sign, I'm not a marriage proposal. People sought me out to greet and say hello... the woman who lives on the corner who I always pass on my way to the post office, the woman who's hand I held when the American dentist came and pulled her teeth, my old host mother, my family, a few people I knew from creches and NGO's, a woman that runs a shop near my work. It felt good. Good and reassuring.
This weekend marked my one year anniversary in Metz Village. I spent it at the funeral and then hangin out learning the basics of burglar proofs. (I spent one whole year without any bars on my little room and over the last month, due to some safety concerns, I decided that it may be best if I just go ahead and take all the necessary precautions). Ludvig Maake and his two assistants spent the afternoons of Friday and Saturday cutting and welding pieces of iron into bars for my window and my door. I'll admit, I feel a little safer, but at the same time it has taken some getting used to... this is my first time living behind bars.
There are some exciting happenin's in the life of Mmapula, oh yeah there are. Today around 2 my time my dear friend Amber in Austin sent out an email alerting a few of us that dear Metallica Otto-Smith (will this be her name?!) is trying to make her way into the world. Oh I cannot even begin to write about how excited I am... I can't wait to see pictures and hear how everything went... and you better believe I've got some plans of hang out time with that little girl! Amber, being the good friend that she is, promised me that she wouldn't forget to whisper in Metallica's ear how much I loved her as soon as she could.
AND Peg and RIch Owen head over this side next week. Actually... exactly one week from right this very second we will be hanging out for the first time in a little over a year. I am really, really excited.... and so is my family in the village. We've got all sorts of plans...and I know we're going to have a good time. It'll be good to see them, so good.

Sunday

I love Sundays. Always have. A perfect Sunday for me involves lots of downtime, a pen and paper or a good book, and some tea. This Sunday was pretty awesome.... a brief rundown
*Woke up earlier than I would have liked, but felt well rested.
*Treated myself to Chai tea
*Read my book all morning and listened to the serious windstorm that lasted hours outside.
*Left my room to catch a taxi to meet Christy at Mabins Cross to catch yet another taxi into Mabins for Elayna's going away pizza party she was throwing for her neighbors and coworkers.
*Walked to tar road and greeted 2 very drunk men who were so pleased with my greeting in Sotho that they insisted on waving down a taxi for me.
*After many taxis driving by while one of the guys flailed his arms and attempted to get me a ride, I stood just behind him and threw my arm up when a taxi was approaching.
*Taxi pulled over to pick me up and driver laughed at the guy who had helped me.
*Got to Mabins Cross, met Christy, and was in another taxi headed towards the village in no time. Of course there was yet another version of "The Weakness in Me" (the only version I knew before coming here was by Joan Armatrading) blaring.. the dance remix... and we bounced down the dirt road to its beat.
*Got to Elayna's earlier than the set party start time and got to hang out and catch up... talk about all the SA 15's in the area leaving in the next week. Then because of African Time we got to hang out even more, waiting for guests to show up.
*Had a lovely meal of pap, potato salad, gravy, pizza, and juice and listened to everyone go around the group and talk about how much Elayna had done for them and how much they were going to miss her. It was really moving. She has done a lot and affected a lot of people in pretty profound ways.
*Met the new volunteer from the SA 18 Education group who has been placed in a village closer to the mountains. I'm glad more volunteers are moving into the area. PO Box 325 is going to be a happenin place with all the mail!
*Stuffed myself with Hershey Kiss topped peanut butter cookies (Yum! I swear if I were a cookie.. this is the cookie I would be) and grabbed two for the road as Christy and I climbed in the back of the bakkie Elayna's host dad was driving to work.
*After riding on the spare tire in the back with all the kids... we were dropped off at the cross. Caught a ride with a guy heading to Tzaneen.
*Our driver asked who we were and what we were doing here. "Oh, home based care and working with orphans work." So you work with old aged people and children? "Yes, children, people who are sick, old aged people." People who are sick, too? "Yep." People who have HIV? Can you tell who has HIV? "Yes. And no, you usually can't tell if they are HIV positive. They must be tested to make sure." I'm HIV positive. "Are you?" Yes. Was tested in 2005. It was a pretty striking conversation. He was so candid about his situation... but also admitted throughout the ride (which was only about 15 minutes) that he didn't disclose his status to everyone, only people he didn't know... it was safer that way. After hearing how his family and people he worked with talked about people who were sick, he decided it wasn't worth losing all those people in his life. His girlfriend died of AIDS in 2006 and although people suspect that he may be positive he hasn't told anyone. He's on ARV's and is taking care of himself, said he plans to live a long time and would like to move out of Limpopo and go to school... and maybe start to tell people his status while he is away from home. Fredrick, thank you for sharing your story with me... those 15 minutes reaffirmed a lot of things for me.
*Carried a Hershey Kiss cookie to Tanya's family's house and presented her with the treat. They were starting the little party that was being thrown for her.... pap, chicken, a cake, and some WWE on TV!
*Came home and sat outside with MmaDiapo while she pulled the feathers from a Guinea Fowl Mabu, the shepherd, had shot today in the bush, while he was tending to the cows.
*Ate an orange, looked the stars, and discussed my parents' vacation to South Africa. Yes they can stay here while visiting Metz Village! Yes we shall all go to Kruger! Yes that is fine that it is on my birthday! Yes, Mabu shall come with us, we can find someone else to watch the cows for the day!
*Some Honey Rooibos tea... some pajamas... a new book... and Mmapula heads to bed. This is one of those days where I thoroughly appreciated being given the opportunity to live here.
And I'm still sending prayers out to those affected by Gustav.... be safe, oh please be safe.

all out of sorts

10am Saturday morning- 30 August 2008
I feel distant. Maybe it doesn't help that I really wish I could go back to sleep. Was up at 5 to head to a funeral with MmaDiapo... washed, drank tea, put on my skirt, ironed a shirt, wrapped my hair in a black scarf... put on my shoes... and waited for about an hour before I was told we weren't going. Tried to go back to sleep and did rest for a couple of hours, but everyone else is up and outside working. So here I sit. I just checked the weather to see where Hurricane Gustav is. Looks like by Monday night/early Tuesday morning it will hit land... Vermilion Parish, Louisiana is right in the center of the cone. Gueydan is right in the center of the cone. I have been updated by my family and they are planning on evacuating sometime tomorrow. Hotels north of them are full, so I think they're heading west towards Austin. As much as I know they're going to be ok, they're going to get out of there in time, it still freaks me out. It does. I'm sending good thoughts and prayers out to everyone that side.

Moetladimo 0891

An ode to the best post office ever. Thank you John, Mathabele, and now, Victor for such great customer service, good conversation, and for smiling every time I walk through the door to greet you. The post office has been such a huge part of my experience... walking to check my mail, learning people's names all along the route, long talks with Tanya, Christy, Nick, and Elayna about everything, picking up and opening packages, eating candy/cookies on my way home, reading letters right outside the main entrance and tearing up, John being fair with his stamp and package prices, feeling safe and accepted, many offered rides, and always quite the adventure.
Tanya standing in line to mail a box of her things home.

Victor, Mathabele, John, Mpho (Tanya), and Mmapula inside the Moetladimo Post Office during one of Tanya's very last trips.