Giving Thanks

I have a lot to be thankful for this Thanksgiving: supportive family and friends back home; a wonderful host family and great friends in other PCVs here; incredible opportunities to travel and see a part of the world I would otherwise never visit; a renewed sense of perspective gained through seeing how lucky I truly am; and a new understanding of my own resilience, perseverance, and patience that I have gained in my 17 months here.

I have also found other things to be thankful for in my new community, and I am making sure I keep them in mind as I continue to plan new projects.

Well-established infrastructure in my high school. I am applying for another library from BFA, but this library journey will be different from my last one. My new school has a library building with burglar bars on the door and windows, a door that locks, a roof that doesn’t leak, and ample shelving. The school has a dedicated librarian, who is also a debate coach and English teacher. The only thing standing between this school and a functioning library is that they don’t have books. Although my old library turned out to be sustainable (or so I’ve been told by old friends), the amount of work that goes into building from the ground up is enormous. I am so grateful to have motivated teachers, a supportive and involved head teacher, and an existing structure in which to create a library.

                                            

With this in mind, we are again fundraising for Books for Africa. Please, please consider donating. This is a project that is really important to me. I grew up loving to read, and I was lucky to have parents who are both teachers and shared their passion for reading with me. Not everyone is so lucky, and even those children here with supportive parents and teachers may not have access to books to read. Please, donate:

https://donate.peacecorps.gov/index.cfm?shell=donate.contribute.projDetail&projdesc=15-645-001

Motivated teachers. I cannot express enough how important it is to have people who are motivated to work with you in a school or community. I had multiple projects fall apart in the past because people were motivated enough to bring me an idea, but not motivated enough to stick with me to its completion. In those cases, I let the projects fail. Currently, I have 3 teachers that are in constant touch with me to improve resources for the kids. One, Mr. Thwala, is the debate coach, English teacher, and librarian I mentioned earlier. He has also expressed interest in leading a BRO (Boys Reaching Out) club, which teaches young men how to interact respectfully with young women. There’s Mrs. Gamedze, who is the sponsor of my GLOW (Girls Leading Our World) club, which is a club that is intended to build agency and empowerment in young women. Finally, I have Mr. Mamba, who would like me to be more involved in volleyball, netball, and basketball programs at the school (we’ll see how that goes). These teachers are the ones calling and messaging me, setting up meetings, and keeping me on my toes. The days of calling someone 6 times to set up a meeting that they end up not showing up for seem to be over. Peace Corps doesn’t work if host country nationals don’t take the lead, and I am finally feeling like I have a purpose here.

The most wonderful host family ever. In my old home, I had drunk men constantly on the homestead, and I was also constantly being asked for money by a family struggling with poverty and hunger. The little things take their toll, although I didn’t realize it until I came here. I would trust my wonderful new family with anything. When I’m sick, Make is beating down the door to check on me. When I’m sad, she takes me by the hand and we watch a movie together. When I’m happy, I can count on her to dance with me. The family is kind to animals, practices positive discipline, and still maintains Swazi cultural traditions. My siblings (1 sisi and 2 bobhuti) are wonderful and kind, and I know that they wouldn’t ever take advantage of me. Coming home is like returning to a sanctuary, and I love that this family goes out of their way to make it so.

A supportive community and inner council. People in my community greet me, ask how I am, and are always down for a conversation. I do not get harassed anymore in my site. I do not get proposals or requests for money or constant stares. If I were to be harassed, I trust that someone would jump to my aid instead of encouraging the men by laughing. I am safe, and I like taking walks to wave to my neighbors. My siSwati is improving because I interact more with people. My inner council made their expectations clear to the community regarding how to treat me, and the community listened. I no longer have to pep talk myself to walk to school or put headphones and pretend to listen to music so that I will be left alone. I’m much happier and I love being here.

A fresh start. So much of my first year of service was stressful, unpleasant, unproductive, and downright scary at times. I had little faith in Swaziland as a country and no trust in Swazis as a people. The opportunity to start over has shown me a whole new side to the country that I would never have expected. Just like in the US, different communities have different attitudes and cultural norms within the larger culture of society. Meeting new people has been a humbling, eye-opening experience, and it has helped me to gain a better understanding of both Swaziland and myself. I was too quick to judge a country and a people by the actions of some members of a community, and my attitude and optimism suffered. I am thankful for the opportunity of self-assessment this move has offered, and I vow moving forward to not let the actions of the few define my opinion of the many.

Growth and challenges. Peace Corps is hard. Like, really hard. The opportunities for personal growth and reflections that the challenges of PC present are too good not to take advantage of. I have learned to be humble; I do not know everything, and I must keep an open mind every single day to keep learning what I need to know. I have learned that I am resilient; I have been through hell, and I never quit (although I did think about it). I have learned to laugh at myself, which is quite possibly the biggest gift I could have gotten. I used to be totally unable to handle looking silly, and now I have to do it every day. My clothes are funny, my accent is funny, and I cannot tell when people are serious or messing with me, so I end up being the most gullible person in my village. I gracelessly sweat in the summers and bundle up and shiver in the winters while Swazis bear each with considerably more dignity. I still scream at spiders and scorpions and snakes, which amuses everyone within earshot. I have to laugh, because there is no other option. I’m going to look silly when I freak out in the Target ice cream aisle or at all the options on the menu board at Panera. I will look silly when I can’t handle snow anymore and I’m in a sweater in 80 degree summer heat. Life is about looking silly, and I am so grateful that I am now able to embrace that.

My own opportunity. It isn’t every person that has the means to walk away from her home country to live somewhere else for 27 months without a salary. I have no children, financial obligations, property, ailing parents, or any other challenges that would have made service impossible. I am so lucky that I am free enough to do this, and that my family and friends back home support me through every step of this crazy, hard, emotional journey. My parents have called at least every other week for the past 17 months. My friends call as often as they can. I get care packages on a regular basis, and sometimes the shipping is more than half my monthly allowance. I have a mentor who read so many personal statement, CV, and statement of purpose drafts during a busy time of the school year. I am supported. I am loved. I am so incredibly fortunate, and to not acknowledge and embrace that would be a disservice to all the people who have raised me up over the years. More than anything else, I am thankful for you and everything you do for me. Sincerely, from the bottom of my heart, thank you.

Being on the home stretch. Don’t get me wrong, I have loved the experiences that come with being a PCV, but I am ready to begin looking forward. I know that the work I do is important and is changing lives, but grassroots development work simply isn’t my passion, and I’m ready to get into a career where I am living that passion every day. I know that graduate school and a career in epidemiology sounds boring to a lot of people, but if you ask anyone who knows me they’ll tell you that I just light up when I think about it. I miss that feeling. For 17 months now, I have worked to the best of my ability to meet the needs of my community, and I will continue to throw my whole heart into my projects for the next 9 months. Right now, I don’t know what comes next. I have applied to graduate school and I’m waiting to hear where I am accepted. I am also looking at jobs both at home and abroad that would be more in my field as a backup plan. Either way, I plan to enjoy my remaining time here while I’m preparing for the next steps.

This Thanksgiving, I have so much to be thankful for, and the best part of reflecting on all my blessings is realizing that the life I led before wouldn’t have given me the lens through which I can see these things. Swaziland and the Peace Corps have opened my eyes to a world in which I have everything. There is no better gift than that.

Not a Dog

In Swaziland, animals typically aren’t pets. All animals have a purpose. Dogs are for protection, and it is believed that if you don’t feed them it makes them meaner and more aggressive. Chickens, goats, and pigs are for food or for sale, so they are fed well. Cows are either for lobola (bride price), food, or sale, and are frequently considered an indicator of wealth. Cats keep the rats under control. The idea of keeping an animal for love is not prevalent; after all, when 50 of your relatives all live on one homestead, how could you possibly need another mouth to feed or someone else to love?

My new homestead is an interesting exception. We have 5 cats, 3 dogs, abundant poultry, and Cheese Boy. The cats and dogs all have names and are fed daily. The people pet them and love them, and it’s been wonderful to see such kindness. No one, however, is shown more kindness or love than Cheese Boy.

When I arrive back at my homestead, he bounds to the gate to lick my hands and nudge my hand to get his ears scratched. First thing in the morning, he comes up on my porch and tries to get in my house for attention. If I have leftover food, he’s frequently the first at my door to beg for it. He sleeps with the 3 dogs at his sides and he has one particular dog and cat that he’s best friends with.

Against all reason, Cheese Boy is a cow.

Cheese Boy on my porch

Good morning!

The best dry spot in the rain

When he was born, his mother died. My host make took him in and has been bottle feeding him twice a day for the past 3 months. He truly is one of the family. Without older cow role models but a powerful herd instinct, he has copied the behavior of the animals he sees daily, which are dogs and cats.

This porch is so comfortable

Cheese Boy needs no invitation to come in

Cheese Boy ignores polite requests for him to leave by lying down

He loves it when other PCVs come to visit. He licks their hands and follows them around like a little puppy. I never thought I’d ever find a cow cute or lovable, but this little guy has proven me wrong.

After the second PCV visited me and we fed him bread, make looked at him, shook her head, and said what a cheese boy he was. Culturally, that’s a term for city slickers. I was called a cheese girl when I put mosquito netting over my windows to make screens to keep the flies out in summer. The fact that he’s a cow somehow just adds to the fact that the name stuck and is adorable.

It's hot, so the two dogs and Cheese Boy love to sit in the shade of the blackberry tree

I think make said it best. One afternoon after one of my PCV visitors had departed, she laid her hand on his head, looked at me, and said: “There is not a person alive who hates him.”

Selfie with my BFF!

Moving

I apologize for the long hiatus. My life here in Swaziland has gotten very hectic as of late.

There are two reasons Peace Corps will remove a Volunteer from a site: something dramatic or dangerous has happened, or the community or host family are just not working well with the Volunteer. After a long, frustrating, and challenging year, Peace Corps has decided to relocate me for the second of those two reasons. I am unharmed and safe, but I do want to catch you up on what has been happening.

Why I Have Moved

Before I moved in, Peace Corps evaluated my site. They spoke to the inner council, who said that if they got a volunteer in the community, he or she would live with a particular family (name intentionally withheld). Our staff visited that particular homestead, and they were shown the house. The host father (babe, in siSwati) reassured them that the roof did not leak. He told one staff member that no one had lived in the house for a long time, and another that his sons were currently living there. After careful evaluation, Peace Corps gave him a list of necessary repairs, which he promised to do.

As I learned (the hard way), the entire roof leaks. None of the repairs were made. When I asked him for help, he was reserved. When I called Peace Corps to help with the repairs, he became angry. Eventually, minus the horribly leaking roof, the house became habitable. When I was at a training in November, I came home to a broken window. Since babe’s job is installing windows, he promised both me and Peace Corps that he would fix it. He did not, and I had multiple things stolen that were within reach of that broken window. When I went to Cape Town in April, I came back to another broken window. Shortly after that, I visited my friends for a weekend and came back to find my third window broken into (although the glass was intact). Most of my food was stolen in that break in. PC had enough of waiting, and they brought the glass to the homestead. It still sat in my hut for weeks before I harassed babe into fixing the window.

PC started to believe that the site was not a good place for me at this point. I have very aggressive dogs, and that means that all 3 robberies were committed by someone known to the dogs. Since we never figured out who it was, I will not point fingers erroneously, but I will let you draw your own conclusions.

Things came to a head at home when babe and I had a miscommunication. I ran out of water, and there was none on the entire homestead. I called PC, and they brought me 200L in some barrels. This greatly upset babe, as he felt that I was reporting him and making it look as though he was mistreating me. He did not tell me that, however, and we interacted with friction for the following month. PC sent a staff member to intervene, and she did an excellent job of smoothing things over. He was, however, never quite the same to me. Your host family is supposed to be your first place of safety, and I had become very distant from mine. I had a wonderful relationship with the host mother (make) and her children, but as my father will tell you, I do not exactly go out of my way to handle male egos with kid gloves.

The host family relationship was one factor. Another was that I was being sexually harassed daily, and on my homestead. Men would come from the bar next door (which babe did not tell PC about) and shout at me from the fence. When I walked to the school, I knew of at least 3 men that would seek me out. When I rode the bus, I encountered another persistent man and one persistent woman, who wanted me to marry her son.

Two of the men were mentally handicapped. There was one who used to shout at me, but lately progressed to hugging, hair touching, and hand holding. My efforts to shake him off were ignored, and my efforts to ignore him were provoking instead of deterring. One day he was particularly aggressive, and I called to some women to help me. They laughed, and moved farther away. It was explained to me later that in Swazi culture, it is the norm to laugh at the actions of the mentally handicapped until someone gets seriously hurt. That situation had the potential to get very unsafe.

In another incident, a friend and I were harassed by a drunk and violent man in the bus rank in our shopping town. I was surrounded by community members, who laughed instead of helping. Total strangers ended up helping us, and they were shocked at the behavior of the people in my community that were present.

Finally, I had no reliable transport. There was a stretch of 4 days where the bus did not come once. It regularly broke down, and once I had to walk 6K home in the dark. My options to leave were to call a taxi (which is very expensive) or to hitch, which I am not comfortable doing. If I had had a medical emergency, I would not have been able to leave. That is a violation of our policy, and so this is the reason that Peace Corps is giving to the community for moving me.

Mixed Feelings

I have a Swazi best friend. We talk about everything and we are extremely close. We work together on every project and I cannot imagine my service without her. Now, it’s no longer a matter of imagining, but a reality. She lives far from me in a place I am no longer allowed to visit, and her phone does not have WhatsApp. We had a successful food preservation project in progress, and many PCVs and PC staff bought her jam, honey, and atchar.

I wrote about my library project in a previous post. After months of struggle, it looks very different. My librarian walks in early, and when I arrive, she tells me what she wants me to do. She then settles in and continues her work. She works before I arrive and hours after I leave for the day. She is so proud of our little library, and takes both ownership and initiative. I’ve spent a year of my life working on building that relationship and that library, and I will never see its completion. I know that I leave a sustainable project in very capable hands, but that does not make walking away any easier.

I was not allowed to tell anyone that I was going. The van came, we loaded my things in, and then we pulled out. My friend stopped by that morning and saw the van loaded with no warning. She sobbed on my porch and hugged me for an hour. I thought my heart would break. Leaving the people I grew to love and who loved me back was brutal, but walking away from the negatives is far easier.

I’ll be able to feel safe when I sleep in my bed at night. I don’t have to psych myself up for the walk to school. I no longer have to feel afraid and anxious to ask the family to help me repair my roof or help me in any other way. I can feel relaxed and happy, instead of living in a state of constant fear and anxiety. I have been unhappy and stressed for far too long, and that ends now. That knowledge has brought me a sense of peace.

Looking Forward

My new community has a lot of resources that my old one didn’t. At my old school, the children wore ratty second-hand uniforms from a variety of sources and no shoes. Here, the children wear identical uniforms, flawlessly washed and pressed. The struggle for basic needs to be met isn’t as prevalent here. There is poverty, but it isn’t the abject poverty to which I had become accustomed.

The high school has a debate team and a GLOW (Girls Leading Our World) club that I plan to work with. I loved debate in college, and I am very passionate about the empowerment of young women, particularly with self-advocacy in relationships. I would like to start a BRO (Boys Respecting Others) club to work with the young men on gender and health issues. The library has only college textbooks, so I plan now to apply to Books for Africa again and try to start a library with novels that the children will enjoy reading. The biology teacher approached me about hosting a science fair, so there are plenty of programming areas there too. For the first time, I find myself overwhelmed with eager counterparts and a plethora of projects that are within my capabilities, means, and interests to complete.

The new community is located in the southern region of the country, Shiselweni, and is near a town named Hlatikhulu (for those of you who like to look at maps). I live right off a tar road and transport is always flowing, so that is no longer an issue. Proximity to the urban areas has really affected the attitudes of the people in my community, and I am working with a more progressive mindset and educated population.

I do not mean to imply that the last year will be easy. The developing world has a set of challenges for every situation, no matter how many resources are available to each Volunteer. Although now I’m working with far more resources than I had, I still have no established relationships, no existing projects, and no clue what I’m doing. To put that another way, I’m still in the Peace Corps.

I’ll get photos of the new site up soon, as well as more posts on Swazi culture. I have a very busy month or so up ahead as I finish up my applications to graduate school, which means I’ll need to be online more often. I’ll make it a goal to get blog posts done as I go to town for internet.

15 months done; 10 to go!