The Grip is Loosening

It's Wednesday morning. I just put a cash flow plan (aka how we're going to spend some money and when we're going to do it plan) on my memory stick and I'm about to head to wash my face and find something to wear for work. Fall is here. Yesterday I didn't see the mountains at all. I made hot chocolate cause it's been at least 20 degrees cooler than the hottest it's ever been in my room (otherwise known as the middle of summer). I got home to my room with about an hour of daylight to spare... just enough time to fill up my water bucket, sweep, and start supper.
For weeks now, because, I think, of a culmination of things, I've had a huge knot in my stomach. Sleeping has been rough with dreams that end in panic or doubt. I wake up and it's hard for me to drag myself out of bed because I just feel so tired...
AND THEN... yesterday, with its misty fog over the mountains, coolness, and long hours, happened. I walked to a local NGO to use their computer with a printer early in the morning and I typed up a letter of resignation for my office... making sure to include the statement, "if there are any specific projects/programs that you would like to work on or discuss with me please don't hesitate to call...". According to this letter I am no longer a volunteer attached to just one organization... I am a volunteer for the community... and I have freedom. (!!) At around 9 I walked up the hill to my office and handed the letter over to Synett. It was about as painless and drama free as it could have been. It was awkward. It was a little uncomfortable. I still hold some guilt. BUT, I did it. After I made sure to let her know that I still thought of us as friends... we just couldn't work together... I walked out a little lighter. I walked away and walked right into getting some work done. I spent all afternoon driving around with some people I'm working with getting quotations for building materials. I spent hours out of the office and jump started on a few projects that have been at a stand still. All the stress hasn't completely gone away, there's something about living here that keeps you on your toes, always ready and waiting for things to change... up and down, but the ball has started rolling. I felt like I was stuck and I did something about it. Damn, that feels good.

Heal Me... or at least tell me my future

Over the holidays, when I found myself in some pretty incredible mountains, I had my "bones" read by a traditional healer. It was pretty cool (thanks, Abby, for the encouragement!), at times more than a little vague, and a good experience.
The "bones" consist of various animal bones, some shells, dice, and rocks. You just lay down your 20 , cup the bones in your hand, shake, shake, shake, and throw the bones over the money. What does this bone throwing show?
Answer: I am lucky. I have a good family and many friends. I will pursue a career in the medical field. I will travel a lot and help a lot of people. Because of some condition I will not be able to have children, but the condition is treatable if caught early. When I have children they will be boys. I will marry, but not right now. I am very lucky.

And here I am with the sangoma (traditional healer) and our translator.
If I were to seek out the help and guidance of a traditional healer in my own village, it very well could compromise my work, connections I have made, and people's thoughts of me.

Happy Birthday, Dr. Seuss

Oh, the Places You'll Go! (1990)

* You have brains in your head.
You have feet in your shoes.
You can steer yourself
any direction you choose.
You're on your own.
And you know what you know.
And YOU are the one who'll decide where to go.

* You won’t lag behind, because you’ll have the speed.
You’ll pass the whole gang and you’ll soon take the lead.
Wherever you fly, you’ll be the best of the best.
Wherever you go, you will top all the rest.

* I'm sorry to say so
But, sadly it's true
That bang-ups and hang-ups
Can happen to you.

* On an on you will hike, And I know you’ll hike far
and face up to your problems whatever they are.

You’ll get mixed up of course, as you already know.
You’ll get mixed up with many strange birds as you go.

So be sure when you step.
Step with care and great tact
And remember that Life’s a great balancing act.

Just never forget to be dexterous and deft.
And never mix up your right foot with your left.

* Will you succeed?
Yes you will indeed!
(98 and 3/4 percent guaranteed.)

-http://en.wikiquote.org/wiki/Dr._Seuss

There are some things that will never get old. I needed to read this this morning. Hope it gives you the lift it gave me.

For the Friday

Happy and Wilkin with cute shoes, Phedisang Drop-IN Center, Worcester, Limpopo
I hope you have a nice weekend.

Workin on the chain gang

"There is a tree and it stands tall and proud. Here is the base, here are the roots, and here are all the leaves on all the branches. You are like a tree, Megan. You don't get the support and food for your roots, you start to shake, you lose your leaves, and people in this place lose out on working with, using, and being around something beautiful." -Mogale, T R. (Rejoice)

So, I haven't really been talking about my office... or, for that matter, my work, the last few weeks. I guess when I'm frustrated, and so far into my service, I'm not really compelled to dwell on the challenges I still, STILL, face when it comes to my office. It's just complicated.. and then not so much.. all around. And yet it's fine. Not in that, "Whatever, it's fine, I've let so many things roll off my back and slogged through so many difficult and frustrating experiences, this is just another mere blip, I'm in the Peace Corps" fine... but it actually is OK. After months and months and months of struggling with how I could be different and what I could change to help my office... after talks with myself and then talks with other people in the community, it has finally dawned on me that the role I have played in my office is not going to change. I've tried different approaches with my coworkers . I have tried to be supportive. I have tried to be an equal. I have fought. I have cried. I have been flexible. And we're still here... I spend a lot of my time with them sitting in the office doing very little... maybe some filing, maybe being sent to buy airtime or takeaway. I watch the office while they go out to workshops and meetings. I answer frantic phone calls that request my help on this, that, or the other. I've written funding proposals that they express little to no interest in working together on... and I really have no idea what they're doing most of the time, cause there is little communication. When I came back from holiday break I was informed that the Program Manager had resigned and we were officially recognizing that our Home Based Care (HBC) Coordinator had resigned as well. Nice. Now the ol home based care is running with two full time staff and a PCV. Changes have occurred.. management has shifted... and I still don't think I'll ever be more than a gopher. This is all hard for me to admit. Admitting this brings up all kinds of thoughts. What have I been doing this whole time? Maybe if I would have done this or that.. things would be different? Why, still, can I not completely cut myself off? Am I just naive and have too much hope for an organization that is just going to go under? And, yet, as I said, it's fine. It's fine cause things have changed... I have changed. I remember back in training when PCV's from groups ahead of ours mentioned that your final stretch of your service was going to be very full, that's when everything started coming together. For me, this is so true. There have been plenty of times I have questioned why the hell I was still in South Africa... why I was still with Peace Corps... but never seriously thought about leaving because there was some pull that kept me here. I'm not sure what pulled me through all of last year.. one of the hardest, if not THE hardest, of my life..but, I'm glad I stayed. The beginning weeks of this year, after nice holidays, proved to be rough. Coming back to the village is always hard, but coming back to face frustrations you resent, really didn't have to think about and were glossed over on vacation? Harder. This is a very personal journey, filled with experiences, layers, and so many little things that cannot be described. Everyone is going to have a different experience because every place is different, every PCV is different. I don't feel like I have wasted my time and I know I've done a lot of stuff here...reminding myself of those key things, after so long, have helped me hit a new point. (And as Maite, my host cousin, so eloquently put it... when the time for leaving draws nearer, everything becomes sweeter). With the hitting of some lows, multiple conversations with other PCV's and in the village, airtime, a few books, and people helping me with ideas OUTSIDE the office... I have bounced back. I'm tapping into all the resources I've connected with over the last year and a half and I've got projects going on. Teen Pregnancy Workshops to plan for drop in centers,toilets to build, a ride out to local farms in the mobile clinic, creating a brochure for a local NGO to get their name out, searching for funding to help build up an existing school library, writing grant proposals, crossing my fingers for the community garden I'm helping my office to organize for income generating and food production, going to town to beg for donations, visiting other NGO's and organizations in the area to help connect them to each other...
I'm going to the people who want to work WITH me and more than ever I feel lucky to have the chance to share my skills with them and have them share their skills and knowledge with me.

Oh in this little tent, much is going on!

Today I went to a community event complete with guest speakers, dancing, singing, praying, catering, AND, most importantly, focused on STI's (Sexually Transmitted Infections) and VCT (Voluntary Counseling and Testing for HIV). After the MC announced that we should all practice what we preached... I went through the testing process myself. With the help of Knysna and Khutso from Humana, the organization that was facilitating all the testing drives in the area, I now know my status.
Khutso invited me in a tent for confidentiality purposes and we talked about the testing procedures. I was asked if I knew how HIV was transmitted, what the symptoms of having HIV are, and what brought me to test. I signed a release form stating that I understood the testing procedures.
Knysna pricked the tip of my ring finger on my left hand, squeezed a few drops onto the testing strip, and then added the solution to start the test. It works like a pregnancy test. If one line appears, I'm negative; if two or three lines show, I'm positive.
As we waited for the results to show, Khutso asked me how I would feel if I tested positive. I answered... nervous and shocked. If it's negative? A sense of relief... even though I know I've been careful and have protected myself... and not that surprised.
I know my status, do you know yours?
From left: Khutso, Mpho, Knysna, and Tiny of Humana.
I was VERY impressed with the level of professionalism that all these women displayed. They've been through extensive trainings and workshops and seem very good at their jobs. We talked about the importance of testing and how hard their jobs sometimes are. They're there when couples come to get tested together, they're there when people find out for the first time that they're positive, and they all realize the importance of what they're doing. It's a constant battle. HIV tests are free, fast, and are the first step to helping people who are sick be aware of what they need to do in order to stay alive. The challenge is educating everyone, reducing the stigma attached to being HIV positive, and encouraging people to know their status.

Papalaas

WARNING:There are some pictures that are pretty... something.. in this post... I'm not trying to gross anyone out.. it is what it is... and it's part of the culture here.

Papalaas. When you say this word around here, people know what you're talking about. It means to feel hung over... or to have a Blue Monday... or to just feel out of sorts and blah.
I got maybe two hours of sleep last night. When I turned off my light, the night was still and hot, I couldn't get cool, and it felt like the temperature kept rising. I had a hard time drifting off. When I finally did get to sleep I was awakened by a HUGE thunderstorm that lasted from 1am until, at the very least, 3. The rain was so loud on my roof that I could only sleep for little spurts before my eyes were forced open by loud rolls of thunder. It was welcomed though. When the wind started to blow and the storm rolled in it felt like a fever had been broken, all the sweat I was sleeping in was cooled. I finally forced myself out of bed at 7:45. No electricity. No electricity means no tea. No oatmeal. I skipped the caffeine and had cold cereal instead. The yard sounded like it was full of people. I opened my door and was immediately thrown into what was to become a very surreal day.'
When I glanced to my left I saw two big tubs of water that had been filled by all the rain (ISN'T THAT INSANE? THAT'S A LOT OF WATER!)

and then when I glanced to my right, right next to a man I didn't know who was smoking a cigarette and trying to greet me and introduce himself, I saw this:

and this:

One of MmaDiapo's calves broke its leg yesterday and it had to be put down... she was very upset by the whole thing and ended up selling off the meat.
Synett mentioned feeling tired and bored this morning when I walked into the office. It was 8:30am. At 10, for tea time, we had bananas and, yes, Fanta grape, I didn't get my normal sugar rush. I was sent on a mission to visit a creche and decided to walk part of the way there so I could check my mail. Victor at the post office wasn't feeling well and said he just wanted to go back to bed. When I finally made it down to the creche, on the opposite end of the village from my office, Mma Modiba said she had woken up feeling uninterested and tired. And when I walked back through the parking lot of Taposa Bakery to get to my office, I saw this:

Two cows, in the middle of a parking lot surrounded by a restaurant, a bakery, a physiotherapist, a saloon (aka salon), and a petrol station, had found themselves a mudhole to cool off in. Papalaas.