Nokuthula

My Parents Come to Africa

2011-06-06T01:11:00.000-07:00

I had the great pleasure of hosting my parents on their first African adventure. Here are just a few of the photos from our trip.

This is the old lighthouse at Cape Point.

A view from Table Mountain showing the cable car to the top.

This was Nelson Mandela's prison cell. We were actually on Robben Island the same day as Desmond Tutu. We got to see him as his vehicle drove past but unfortunately no pictures to prove it.

A view of Table Mountain and Cape Town from Robben Island

V&A Waterfront in Cape Town

This is a township just outside of Cape Town

The lighthouse at La'Agulhas, the southern most tip of the African Continent

This photo was taken at a quaint roadside stop where we had Mother's Day brunch. This is me trying to befriend, Bacon, the pot belly pig.

A rhino coming out of his mud bath at Hluhluwe-Imfolozi Game Reserve

Our final stop was a quick visit to my site. Dad became an instant celebrate at school with his big camera.

My mom and host mom, Thokozani

Mom and me reading with the girls, Wandile and Akhona

Making Memories

2011-03-17T00:16:00.001-07:00

To my surprise, March has started out being much hotter than February. The other day, I had to go into town for groceries and mail. After finishing all my errands I went and sat on the curb in the hot sun for an hour waiting for a taxi to come. I was not alone, there were approximately 75 other people also waiting for a taxi to take them home. Normally, in the afternoon there are 4 or 5 taxis lined up waiting to go, but that day was pension day, meaning the taxis were busy else where. As I sat and waited, I was plotting how I was going to get a seat on the taxi when it arrived. What you have to first understand is that, when there are more people than there are seats on taxi, courtesy falls by the wayside. It's every man for himself, as twenty people try to pile into the taxi before it has even come to a complete stop. It often becomes brutal as people push and shove, there's hair pulling and yelling as people fight for a seat. Another taxi pulls up as a throng of people attempt to get aboard. I was in no hurry to get home, so I sat and watched as the mayham went down. After several taxis had come and gone, someone walked up to me, grabs my second bag of groceries and says, 'Nokuthula, we are getting on that next taxi.' And like all the people had done before us, we had the door open and we were climbing into the taxi before it had come to a complete stop.

So there I am, stuck sitting in the worst seat, the back row, squished between two voluptuous African women with my two big bags of groceries on my lap. The taxi, aka 'the death trap,' is flying down the road. The door is about to fall off, there's dirt blowing in my face and I fear that the seat underneath me is about to collapse under the weight. Despite the wind blowing, the sun was shining right on me, I could feel the sweat rolling down my face and back as the sweat from my neighbors drips down my arms. The driver has the music up so loud you can't hardly hear yourself think. All I could think about was how miserable I was at that moment. But then I took a step back and looked at the bigger picture - 'I am in Africa!' A big smile came to my face as I thought about the fact that just over a year earlier this was exactly the kind of experience I had imagined. When else in my life am I going to get the opportunity to be completely immersed in another culture. I only have to do this for two years where as everyone else has to do this their entire life. What was a miserable experience a couple seconds earlier evolved into an experience that I will forever look back upon and smile, because twelve months from now this will all come
to an end and I will return home to a life of 'normalcy.' These will just be distant memories, stories from a different lifetime, a different world. As hard as it is at times, I am trying to make this a positive experience, an experience I can share with others years down the road.

(The picture to the right is of a women carrying firewood on her head. Electricity is available to most in the village, however, many people can't afford to pay for such a luxury. Thus, they must collect wood everyday for cooking.)

My Brother Comes To Visit

2011-01-25T08:26:00.000-08:00

I had the great joy of hosting my first visitor here in South Africa. My brother and I spent about two weeks traveling around South Africa. We drove from Durban to Cape Town and then back to Durban via Lesotho. Here are pictures highlighting our journey.

Addo Elephant Park

We traveled through wine country. We drove past beautiful wineries, but not without stopping at a few for samples.

Shark diving off of Gaansbaai!!! The biggest Great White Shark we saw was 11 feet. They would swim within inches of us (we were in a cage). I thought I was going to freeze to death as I sat motionless in the 52 degree water for 20 minutes.

Cape Point -- The very south western point of the African continent

Penguin

We spent New Year's Eve with my Peace Corps friend and partner in Cape Town

Middle of nowhere Africa

A famous hill in Lesotho
Lesotho is a tiny country within South Africa

This is what speed bumps are called in Lesotho

Our last stop was a visit to my village where Flint not only got the opportunity to meet my host family and village but he also experienced a bit of the Zulu culture and customs!
This is Flint sitting on a grass mat with some Gogos (grandmothers)

Part of my host family doing Flint's signature pose

Why am I still here?

2011-01-22T23:53:00.000-08:00

As I am sitting here writing this, it is one in the morning, I am listening to the evening melody of the frogs and insects. An electrical storm has moved in, knocking out the power, leaving little hope of relief from this summer heat. My fan sits silently as the air in my room becomes stagnant and the mosquitoes swoop in from every direction in hopes of a meal. My sandals are wedged under the door to keep the frogs out, while the fattened lizards call my walls home. I have been living in Africa for a year now. I am torn between think that this past year has flown by while at the same time being the longest year of my life.

It was a year ago this week that I was anxiously packing my bags, soaking up the last conveniences that America has to offer and saying goodbye. As I reflect on my first weeks in South Africa, I can’t help but think of how naive I was at that time. I knew there would be the highs and the lows, the rough patches and some bumps along the way but had I known what I was in for I think I would had turned right around and bid Africa a farewell. But what an incredible journey this first year has been.

Someone recently asked me why I am still here, why haven’t I just thrown in the shovel and gone right home. After all, I have been sick more often than not, the work is less than ideal, and I have slept in a bed full of maggots. There have been times when I was about to pack my bags and go but there are many reasons why I am still here.

1. The first reason I am still here is because of all the support and encouragement from my family and friends back home, as well as, from people I don’t even know.

2. I also wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for a few good Peace Corps friends. We may live hours apart and see each other only every couple of months but they are only a SMS away.

3. There is the typical answer that I am here to make an impact and do incredible work, but that’s not going to happen anytime soon. I feel that my life, knowledge, and understanding of the world has changed far more than I would ever be able to impact the lives of those around me.

4. My purely selfish reason is to prove to myself that if I can live in rural South Africa and all that that entails for two years, it will give me the confidence to know that I can handle whatever curve balls life throws my way.

My date with the Ambassador

2010-11-26T02:54:00.000-08:00

With the bad comes the good. Last weekend I got called into the Peace Corps office in Pretoria due to medical issues. When I arrived on Monday I was a mess, not just due to medical issues but due to the fact that I had taken the night bus from Durban to Pretoria. I was running on very little sleep; I am one of those people who NEEDS my sleep or I just don’t function. Between exhaustion, illness, and the emotional roller coaster that is the Peace Corps, I was at my breaking point.

Long story short, I got sick at just the right time. Since I was in already in Pretoria, I got invited over to the Ambassador’s house for Thanksgiving dinner! Late Wednesday afternoon I got a call from the Peace Corps office asking me if I would like to have Thanksgiving dinner with the Ambassador and his family. You don’t have to ask me twice! So, Thursday morning I went out and bought a new dress for the occasion. I splurged a little but justified it with the fact that I had not purchased a single item of clothing in the ten months I have been in country. I even put on mascara for the grand occasion. That afternoon four other Peace Corps volunteers and I showed up at the Ambassadors house.

We were among 40 people dinning with the Ambassador and his family that night. As we sat around the grand table that evening, we enjoyed the traditional Thanksgiving feast and great company. I experience reverse culture shock being surrounded by so many Americans in such an American setting. I wasn’t sure how to interact with the American children, I found myself stepping back and observing the children, amazed by their interactions and the fact that they spoke English. As the night came to a close, we said our goodbyes, took many pictures and headed our separate ways. Some people flew back to the states (they were here on holiday), the others headed back to their large houses in the city and as for us PCVs, we are on our way back to our pit toilets, bucket baths and huts in rural Africa. What an incredible experience. It was amazing to feel like I was back home, if only for an evening, even if it meant going through all the medical issues.

Tid Bits

2010-09-26T04:07:00.000-07:00

I have compiled a list of experiences, observations, fact, and differences to share with you all in order to give you a better understanding of my life here in rural South Africa. This list could go on much longer but I don’t want to bore you to death, so for now I limited the list to fifteen.

*The longer I am here, the worse my English gets (and it was bad to begin with), therefore, please ignore all punctuation, grammatical, and spelling errors.

Transportation: Road rule #1 - Cars have the right away, especially taxis. Time is money in the taxi business, therefore, taxis do not slow down when people are in the road; instead, they hit the gas thus insuring that people move out of their way quicker.
Cultural Difference: Traditionally, a Zulu speaker will pass something to you using the right hand only, with the palm of the left hand supporting the right forearm. This is done to show you have nothing to fear and that nothing is being hidden away. (Personal Note: I am left handed and frequently forget to use my right hand, opps, hope I have not offended anyone.).
Personal Note: The Peace Corps experience is the most emotionally challenging experience I have ever had.
Country Fact: The president of South Africa is Jacob Zuma, also referred to as JZ. Zuma has been married 5 times (polygamist) and has 20 children.
Food Fact: The staple food in the Zulu diet is maize meal (similar to cornmeal). Maize meal is eaten with nearly every meal. In the morning it is made into porridge (my favorite way to eat maize meal). It is also used to make pap (stiff pap) or phuthu. These are used as the base to a meal (similar to how we would use rice) with meat and gravy on top. In the summer, they enjoy eating phuthu mixed with sour milk.
Cultural Difference: Gratitude is often expressed by gestures rather than words. Instead of saying “Siyabonga” (thank you) when receiving an item, one will clap their hands, curtsy, accept the offering with both hands, or place the right hand on the forearm (same as when passing an object, see # 2). It can be considered rude to accept something using only one hand.
Food Fact: They love their meat and they do not waste any of it! In the frozen food section of the grocery store you can buy “Walky talky,” chicken heads and feet. They also enjoy tripe (animal intestines). And their idea of a good dessert is to chew on the bones and suck out all the marrow.
Personal Note: Thus, I have become a vegetarian while living in South Africa. There are too many mystery meats and they handle the meat much differently (i.e. it sits out for long periods of time while flies enjoy a meal).
Transportation: When getting on a taxi at a taxi rink, the taxi must be full (normally 15 passengers) before the taxi will leave. This can take anywhere from five minutes to hours. The longest I have had to wait so far has been four hours. What would normally be a quick errand turns into an all day event when using public transportation.
Cultural Differences: The African handshake is a variation of the conventional handshake. Shake hands and without letting go, slip your hand around the other person’s thumb. You then go back to the traditional handshake.
Country Fact: South Africa has 11 official languages: Afrikaans, English, Ndebele, Northern Sotho, Sotho, Swazi, Tswana, Tsonga, Venda, Xhosa and Zulu.
Personal Note: I have adopted many South African words into my vocabulary including, saying in exclamation: eish, hhybo, how (said really fast), and shame. As well as other common words like braai (a bbq), bhaki (truck), and quantum (taxi).
Transportation: Even on the HOTTEST days, no one opens the windows in a taxi. This makes for a great environment for TB to be spread.
Cultural Difference: A child is taught to look down when addressing his elders, to speak quietly and to speak only when spoken to. They are also taught not to stand taller than the elders (i.e. elder sitting and child standing). When a child enters a room with elders (any adults) they will get on their knees and speak softly while avoiding all eye contact. This is a sign of respect.
Observations: Everything runs on “African time.” Nothing starts or ends on time and it can take hours, days, weeks, months, and even years to get anything accomplished.

Coffee Bay

2010-09-13T06:05:00.000-07:00

I must first apologize to my loyal fans as I have negated to write in quite a while. The truth is, not much is happening on this end. Life is the same, day in and day out. One of the reasons for this has been because of a big strike that has been taking place. I won’t get into specifics but pretty much the teachers were striking for about a month. When there are no teachers, there are no students, and when there are no students, there is no work. The issue has still not been resolved; however, the strike has been suspended for 21 days. We are still waiting to see if the government will meet their demands.

In August I took my first South African vacation! Two friends (fellow PCVs) and I headed to a rural village in the Eastern Cape called Coffee Bay. What a truly beautiful place! We went on a couple hikes, sat on the beach, and just relaxed. I even jumped off a few cliffs! Here are some pictures from my trip.

Jill Kim and me on a hike

Watching the sunset

Kim and Jill

My host family's store.

It's A Kodak Moment

2010-08-09T07:53:00.000-07:00

As I sit here alone in my room, I am listening to the pider pader of the rain on my roof and the drip drop as it hits the floor; I thought that I would post more pictures for those of you who do not have facebook. Hopefully there will be some never-before-seen pictures as well. So here is a hodgepodge from the previous six months in South Africa.

This is Kim and me on a weekend getaway. Both a little chubbier than before, and somehow we always manage to dress alike. We have actually been mistaken as the same person on several occasions.

During the month of the World Cup the kids were on Winter Holiday. As part of Noah, we put on a week long camp for the kids. This is a picture of some of the kids and volunteers.

As part of the camp we had a soccer (football) tournament.

For our In-Service Training we were back up in Mpumalanga so I got the opportunity to go back to Bundu and visit my host family that I lived with during training.
Kabelo & Mibebeza

Ruby & Kabelo
(Ruby is still as fat as ever!)

And then of course it would not be complete without a couple pictures of my adorable (yet sometimes terrors) nieces.
This is Akona showing off ALL the hair stuff that Ashley mailed me

And this is Wandile enjoying the musical birthday card my sister sent me

My Creative Side

2010-08-09T06:23:00.000-07:00

As I have probably mentioned before, I have a lot of spare time on my hands. Many PCVs use this time to take up new hobbies such as learning to knit, sew, sing the alphabet in reverse, juggle, and even compete to see how long they can grow their armpit hair. As for me, my most resent endeavor has become building shelves using scrap materials. I saw a need for shelves because I have a lack of storage space in my rondival. My first goal was to build a spice rack for my kitchen. All I used was some cardboard and string and BAM, I have a spice rack that hangs from the beams above. I was so proud of my spice rack/shelf that I decided to try my hand at building a bookshelf. My books were not getting used; I just had them stored away in a suitcase. So yesterday I gathered up wooden boards and bricks to construct a little bookshelf. After adding the final touches to my bookshelf this morning, I brought my host mom to my room to show her my new amazing shelves that I was extremely proud of. I guess she was not as impressed because she just stood there and shock her head in disapproval saying, “We must fix this” and then turned around and left. After about ten minutes she returned with newspaper, bigger boards, and better bricks and got to work building me a better bookshelf. After she completed that she moved on to my spice rack to make it look more presentable… whatever makes her happy. I think she just enjoyed helping out her new daughter, so I just let her do what she felt needed to be done. After all, mom knows best!

I have now lived in my rondival for four months and this whole time there has been some sort of animal body part hanging from the ceiling beam. I never took it down because I knew it had some significant meaning. So today, while we were constructing my better bookshelf I asked my host mom why exactly I have an animal part hanging in my room. She continued to tell me that they slaughtered a goat in here as an offering to the ancestors. That body part symbolizes the offering and now the ancestors watch over my rondival. Mom and Dad, you know longer have to worry, I not only have a guard dog and burglar bars, I also have goat intestine (ancestors) to protect me.

As for my armpit hair…it’s getting pretty long.

Pictures:
1)Spice rack in my kitchen
2)New and improved bookshelf (resource library)
3) Goat intestine protecting my rondival.

Freedom

2010-07-29T13:00:00.000-07:00

Six months have passed since I have been in country, and while I have learned and experience so much, I know I have only just begun. I was recently talking to another PCV and she asked me what I miss most about life back home? I thought about it and the first thing that came to my mind was food. In my opinion, South African food leaves much to be desired. But then I thought about my weekend in Pretoria and thought of all the wonderful food I ate there. I may not have access to good food all the time but I can definitely find just about any food I am craving (except Chipotle). The next thing I thought about was missing my family and friends (I know that should have been first). While I do miss everyone back home VERY much, I also know that they will be there in two years when I get back and I can communicate with them easily, via email, facebook, and phone, heck, I could even video chat with them if I wanted. So, while they are all missed dearly there is something else that I miss even more and that thing is freedom. I miss the freedoms of my life back home.
While I do miss the conveniences of running water, I miss having the freedom to hop in my car and go anywhere at any time and not spend hours waiting on the taxis. I miss going grocery shopping and not worrying about how I am getting everything home. I miss being able to lie out under the stars, and not worry about being outside after dark. I miss the freedom of walking down the street and not bring stared at, whistled at, yelled at, and harassed. I miss the freedom of interacting with people and not worrying about whether I am being culturally appropriate and understanding the conversation that is going on around me. I miss the freedom to be who I am and not worry about my skin color and constantly having to break down stereotypes and explain myself. The list goes on, but this gives you an idea.
I did a little site seeing while I was in Pretoria recently. These two pictures are from the Union Building in South Africa's Administrative Capital. (Dad, the picture with the canon is for you!).

This is Not What I Had in Mind

2010-07-09T09:12:00.000-07:00

When I dreamt of my days as a Peace Corps volunteer, I pictured extreme isolation with my only mode of transportation being a bike. I imagined becoming fluent in the local language. I pictured myself as becoming someone completely different. Someone who wasn’t scared to talk to a stranger, an extrovert with the ability to mobilized mass quantities of people. Yet, I am beginning to wonder, who was this person I imagined?

My dream has come true, I am a Peace Corps volunteer and I am living in Africa. However, I am slowly coming to the realization that what I had imagined was just a dream and that becoming a Peace Corps volunteer didn’t change who I am as an individual. I am still me, the introvert that would prefer to disappear into the background rather than be the center of attention. My isiZulu name says it all, Nokuthula, a quiet individual, peaceful, and down-to-earth. Every day I am challenged, I am forced to step outside my comfort zone, to challenge my boundaries, and to question my abilities. I no longer blend in with all those around me; I am now the star of the show, the one that people are looking up to for help. I can’t help but question if I am really cut out for this job. Don’t get me wrong, I LOVE being here. I feel that this is where I need to be right now. I just need to find a way to use my strengths and to challenge my abilities to become that great Peace Corps volunteer I once imagined.

This is a picture of me with two other women that I met named Nokuthula. The three Nokuthulas.

A letter from Busie

2010-07-04T10:49:00.000-07:00

I would first like to give a big shout out to the students at Holmes Middle School in Colorado Springs for the wonderful letters and for raising money to help the orphans and vulnerable children here at Noah! I will be starting to teach English classes next month to the seventh graders and I am incredibly excited to get the learners involved in writing letters in return. I presented the Noah staff with the money and letters; they were incredibly excited and thankful.
Here is a letter that one on the learners wrote in response: (Keep in mind that her first language is isiZulu. She did a great job of writing in English.)
Dear Guyz
I’m Busisiwe and I’m 15 years old. I’m doing grade 8 at Hlakaniphini High School. My hobies are netball, balley, and tennis. My dream is to sing and I’m a song composer. I like friends and I’m a friendly pearson, kind and forgiving, I don’t like to get angry. And I live in South Africa. My country is a lovely country that you’d wish to be in. With a beautiful mountains we use to plant trees for carbon dioxid (freesh air) everything that you’d like you can find it in. My country, they are different people. So as Erin told me about you country and I’m telling you about mine. I’d always want to visit your country everyday when I’m imagining myself. I always imagining myself in your country and trust me you don’t want to know.
Love: Busie
The month of June was incredibly busy for me. I helped to put on a holiday program for the children in the community. Being that the children are on winter holiday we wanted to have a camp for the kids to keep them busy and out of trouble. We did not have much time to prepare, but in the end the kids seemed to really enjoy themselves. I would also like to thank Mrs. Sobeck for the donation of the soccer balls. I received them just in time for the camp. The kids were so excited to have balls to play with.
Highlight:
I have a new friend and possible isiZulu tutor! One of the kids at the camp came up to me and began talking to me. She began to really take a liking to me within a couple days. She even invited me to go see her house and meet her family. Yesterday, she came to pick me up and we walked the fifteen minutes to her house. She showed me her house, I met some of her family, she taught me how to play a couple traditional games, and we ate oranges from the orange tree in the yard. It made for a great Saturday afternoon. I also asked if she would be willing to teach me isiZulu. I feel that there is a lot that we can learn from one another.
This weeks Pictures: The first picture is of Busie, the learner that wrote the letter. The next picture is of Mxolisi and I balancing on a tire. The third picture is of one of my favorite little friends, Yolanda, as she posed for a picture outside the school building.

World Cup Fever

2010-06-14T08:50:00.001-07:00

Have I mentioned that I enjoy receiving mail? Well I do! I only get into town every couple of weeks and my first stop is always the post office. The post office sits of the top of a very steep hill, tucked right in between the police station and the local jail. There are usually men in orange uniforms cleaning the premises while the guard sits off to the side half asleep. The taxi stops at the bottom of the hill. So, I make my way out of the taxi, climb the hill, avoid the random men in orange suits, walk up the five steps to the post office and my P.O. Box is the one on the lower left hand corner right before entering the post office. I put my key in, turn and yank. The door to my box is jammed so I always have to yank pretty hard to open it. After retrieving my mail I walk down the hill across the street, down another hill to my favorite little coffee shop. I try to treat myself to a coffee when I am in town. It’s the only decent cup of coffee I can get for weeks, and the coffee shop also has an amazing view of the Indian Ocean. That is a little slice of heaven right there, coffee, mail, and a beautiful ocean view.

I am sure you are wondering how the little puppy, Spot, is doing. Well, I am happy to say that he is much healthier. He is still not completely well; I have noticed these past couple days that he is looking quite skinny. In fact, I can count his ribs. I know they are feeding him so I am not quite sure what the problem is. The dog has a name now, her name is Speedy. Don’t ask me why, because she is definitely not speedy. She is still in that clumsy phase where, when she is running her front legs will give out and she does a nose dive into the ground. It’s actually quite cute to watch. Another part of having this puppy is trying to teach the girls how to treat a dog. Here, in South Africa, dogs are not seen as pets, like in the US, they are more just used as guard dogs. Most people are very scared of dogs here. The dogs are treated very poorly; they are kicked around and abused. I am using this puppy as a teaching mechanism. I am trying to show them that a dog can be trained and polite while still being an excellent guard dog. I am teaching the girls (my two nieces) how to play with a puppy. I think sometimes they just think I am a crazy American. Can anyone tell me what kind of dog Speedy is?

Yes, the World Cup is here! And I can feel it! Everybody seems to have come down with the World Cup fever. Excitement is runny high and everywhere you turn there is a South African flag. Unfortunately, I do not have tickets to any of the games. The closest stadium to me is in Durban, which is just about an hour south of here. All schools are closed for this month in order to “cut down” on the traffic. The South African team is the Bafana Bafana. Here is a picture of some of the students at school with World Cup fever.

On Sunday, I went with my host family to an umkhehlo. I am still not quite sure what the significance of an umkhehlo is but it involves the families of both fiancés and a lot of dancing. It started out with the young women running around yelling, dancing, and singing. They then presented the bride with cow fat. Yes, cow fat! The fat was washed and dried and then draped over the bride’s shoulders which she then wore for the remainder of the ceremony. As I talked about earlier, the men and women are always separated at events. The women sat under the shade trees while the men sat off in the bushes drinking their traditional beer. After the women danced and sang for about an hour, the men all got up and marched over. Then for the next two hours it looked like a game of pass the stick. The bride and her bridesmaids would dance over to the men and put sticks in the ground in front of them, they would then turn around and dance back. After a couple minutes a few of the men (never the groom) would get up and walk the sticks back to the women’s side. This went on for a good two hours. Occasionally, one of the men would get up, yell something and all the other men would respond. And then my favorite was when one of the Gogos (grandmothers) would get up randomly and dance around and yell. I have videos of the event but unfortunately I can’t upload them. Here is a picture of one of the men in traditional Zulu attire. He also proclaimed his love to me and told me he wanted to marry me (this is pretty common), but he then told me that he is from a polygamist family so he wants multiple wives. I told him that that wouldn’t work for me. The picture was taken by his sister whom had never used a camera before, hence the diagonal portrait.

Grandpa is Dancing Again

2010-05-23T01:38:00.000-07:00

Firstly, I must apologize for the delay in posting, it is partly due to extenuating circumstances and partly due to my lack of words. I am finding it difficult to put my thoughts and experiences into words. Some of my fellow Peace Corps volunteers have started using their blogs as more of a journal, they write about the positive aspects of everyday. Life is not easy here; poverty, crime, illness, death, and racism are just a few of the battles that these people face on a daily basis. As a PCV, I witness this daily, it can quickly wear a person down. In every social work class I had, they emphasized the point that you must first help yourself before you can help others. There are little things that I do on a daily basis to keep a positive mind. Every morning, I wake up with the sun, I take a minute to enjoy the beauty of this world that I am living. As the sun begins to shine in my hut, I bask in the warmth of the light as I drink tea. This sets a positive mind set for the day. At the end of the day, once the sun has disappeared and I have said my good nights, I take a moment to remember all the positive aspects of the day. Here are just a few of the positive moments:

Saturday, May 15, 2010
Today was a great day, Lindsay, my nearest PC friend invited me to go to a cultural dance competition. The setting: the beach! I woke up this morning to find it overcast, cold, and rainy. I thought there was no way I was going to go. I would have to stand out in the rain for an hour or more to try and catch a taxi into town. But to my surprise, they (Lindsay and her coworker)offered to come pick me up! As we pulled up to the event there were groups of excited kids all around dressed in their school uniforms. We were told the competition was to start at 9am...(I frequently forget that everything runs on African time here) two hours later the students are all dressed in their traditional attire anxiously awaiting their time to shine. It was truly an incredible experience to watch these kids, dressed in tradition attire, perform these dances that have been passed down through the generations.

Wednesday, May 19, 2010
The grade R learners (students) have taking a liking to me. Grade R (R stands for readiness) is equivalent to kindergarten. After a couple cups of tea this morning my bladder was about to burst. As I rushed out of the office and down the stairs I was swarmed by the grade R learners. They all wanted to hug their new friend Nokuthula. They yell in the only English they know, "Hi Nokuthula, how are you?" By this point I can't move, I am five kids deep on every side. The teacher stands back and laughs as I struggle to free myself. I finally break free and run off with kids trailing behind, I yell back "Ngiyabuya, Ngiyabuya! (I am coming back!)" in a failed attempt to not have the entire class follow me to the pit toilet.

Saturday, May 22, 2010
Today I went to a graduation party with my host mom. I had never actually met the graduate before the party but she was the former manager of Noah, she quit shortly before I arrived to go back to school to get a teaching degree. As with most things, when my mom and I arrived at the party, everyone was surprised to see a white person in their midst. After many hugs from excited Gogos (grandmas/old women) I was offered a seat. One thing I have learned here is that it's not a celebration without song and dance, but not the song and dance you would see in the US. To try and paint a picture in your mind: at functions the men and women typically sit separately. The old men sit on stumps under trees drinking traditional beer while the women sit else where. They all have this withered look about them from years of hardship. The old men all have their walking stick and the gogos walk with great care. The ceremony was set to start at 2pm, so at half past four the graduate made her appearance dressed in her cap and gown. The music began, the Gogos and Grandpas jumped to their feet and began to dance around, yelling and rejoicing. It is truly a site to see.

This weeks pictures: the first two pictures are from the dance competition. The third picture is of a group of the learners at the school. And this last picture is of a zebra that I saw just hanging out in my shopping town.

Umlungu

2010-05-07T10:55:00.000-07:00

I am called by many names here in my rural South African village. The first of which and the most common is Nokuthula. The first night I moved in with my host family in Mpumalanga they gave me the African name, Nokuthula, meaning “quiet and peaceful one” (I would say it’s a fitting name for me). Now that I have moved into my new village I now have a second name. That name is Umlungu, meaning “white person.” For anyone that does not know me by Nokuthula they just simply call me Umlungu. When riding in the local taxis I often here people whispering to each other “who is this umlungu (in Zulu of course)?” thinking that I don’t understand. The best part is when I turn around and greet them in isiZulu. All the looks of skepticism and judgment melt away as they realize that I can speak their language. I then explain in my broken isiZulu that I am from the US and that I volunteer and live in the village. They then greet me with open arms.

I guess I have never really experience truly being a minority before. It is not easy being the odd one out. I often feel part of a game, “Spot the Umlungu.” No matter where I go people point and yell “Umlungu” as though they have just won the prize for finding the umlungu. I also explain it as walking around with a spot light over me. I am always drawing attention and stares. Sometimes I think that if I am far enough away or if it is dark enough people won’t be able to tell that I am an umlungu, unfortunately it does not work that way. I am sure as time goes on I will just be yesterday news, but for right now I am the talk of the town. In fact, if my village had their version of the Enquirer I would make the front page.
The headlines for this week’s Enquirer: “Umlungu deathly ill after walking for hours,”
“Rich American Saves African Family from Bankruptcy,” and “Umlungu Kicks Families out
of Houses.”

Random Thoughts:
I recently learned that I share a birthday with South Africa’s greatest leader, Nelson Mandela. I am very excited about this recent discovery. A few months back during training we took a fieldtrip to the Nelson Mandela Museum in Johannesburg. Here are some quotes from Mandela:

“I learned that courage was not the absence of fear, but the triumph over it. The brave man
is not he who does not feel afraid, but he who conquers that fear.”
“There can be no keener revelation of a society's soul than the way in which it treats its
children.”
“And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same.”

My host father acquired a puppy! It was given to him by a friend. They (my host family) were talking about getting a puppy since Tsotsi is an older dog. The bad part is that the puppy, which I am here by naming Spot, is a very sick little guy. But my host father being the animal lover he is, is nursing Spot back to health.

This weeks pictures: The first picture is of Wandile and me, she is my little two year old niece. The second picture is some of the children at work standing in front of the NOAH sigh. And then there is the picture of Spot.

A day in my sandals

2010-04-25T07:45:00.000-07:00

Before becoming a volunteer one of my biggest questions was what does a day in the life of a volunteer look like. Fortunately for you, I am going to give you an insider’s view into the not so glorious life of a volunteer.

12am – Wake up to raindrops on my head. My rondaval has 15+ leaks in the roof so when it rains outside it also rains inside. Get up, put a towel over me and go back to sleep.

2:30am – Tsotsi (my guard dog) has vocal lessons outside my window. I have decided that he enjoys just listening to himself bark.

4am – The roosters begin to crow

5:30am – The birds begin to gather on my roof

6am- My alarm goes off, hit snooze a couple times before I manage to roll out of bed

6:15-6:48am – Get dressed, eat breakfast, check my email and prepare my bag for the day.

6:48 am – Leave for work/school. Greet every single person I pass along the way.

6:56 am – Arrive at work/school. Greet all my co workers.

7:05am – Morning song and prayer. Every day begins and ends with a song and prayer. Meetings also begin and end with a prayer. This is customary even for nonreligious organizations.

7:15am – Begin cleaning up after our nightly visitors, the bats. They are very good about letting us know that they were there.

7:30am – Children begin to arrive to school. Greet and play with the children.

8am – School begins. I enter data into the computer or sit in the kitchen and watch the cooks prepare the days lunch.

10am – Tea Time!

10:30am – Join one of the Red Cross volunteers to teach a class on HIV, drugs, rape, etc.

12pm – The kindergarteners get out of school. Serve them lunch

12:30pm – Eat lunch (will post a menu later)

1pm – The 1^st graders get out of school. Serve them lunch.

2pm – Serve all the learners (students) lunch

2:30pm – Study isiZulu, do computer work, play with kids, try to keep myself occupied, etc.

4pm – Closing song and prayer

4:05 – 4:20 – Walk home with co workers. Notice time difference in walking to work and walking home. I have not completely mastered the art of the slow walk but I am forced to learn as I meander home with my co workers.

4:20pm – Arrive home. Greeted by my nieces (ages 2 & 6) and Tsotsi

4:20 – 5:45pm – Bathe and play with nieces until the sun goes down.

6pm – Retire to my room for the night. Eat dinner, read, watch a movie, journal, and keep myself occupied

9pm- Lay in bed, count all the springs in my mattress. Eventually fall asleep.

As I have probably mentioned before, the first three months at site are the observation period. Thus, I don't do too much. I am sure this will change once I begin working on projects.

Nurturing Orphans of AIDS for Humanity

2010-04-17T11:54:00.000-07:00

I have neglected to tell you what my main job is here in South Africa. I am working for an organization called NOAH which stands for Nurturing Orphans of AIDS for Humanity. NOAH provides services to orphans and vulnerable children (OVCs). It was started in 2002 and there are now 101 NOAH (Arks) locations throughout KwaZulu-Natal and Gauteng provinces. Statistics say that an average of 1 in 3 people in South Africa has HIV/AIDS. There are approximately 2.5 million orphans and many more vulnerable children and about half of those orphans are due to the AIDS pandemic.
I am working with one of the Arks in a rural village in KwaZulu-Natal. We are based out of a local primary school. We are currently serving 276 OVCs in a school of about 500 students (grades K-7). And there are many more students who would greatly benefit from our services. The biggest service we provide is our meal program. We serve approximately 260 hot meals a day. For many of the children this is the only meal they will get the whole day. We also provide after school activities, bereavement counseling, daycare, HIV/AIDS education, and life skills classes.
So where do I fit into this? These first three months at site are called Community Integration (or as volunteers refer to it as "Lock Down"). I am learning about the organization and figuring out where I will fit in and what I can offer. I am also to use these first months to continue learning the language and to perform a Needs Assessment on the community. There are a lot of great opportunities here for me and I can't wait to begin!

I smell!!

2010-04-17T04:50:00.000-07:00

So apparently, I have forgotten how to take a bucket bath. The first two months I was in South Africa I was living in a house that did not have running water. We fetched the water from a tap in the yard; however, the water to the community was shut off a good portion of the time. This required a lot of water conservation. When the community water supply was turned on, it was a mad dash to get all the buckets you owned filled with water because it was unknown how long the water was going to be on and how long it would be before it was turned back on. On average, the water was off for a couple days and came back on for only half a day. It got worse as time went on. At points, the water was off for a week at a time and it was turned on for a couple hours in the early morning around 3am. It got to the point of desperation for water sometimes that when the water came on in the early morning hours everyone was awake and scrambling to store as much water as possible. The moral to this story is that I learned very quickly how to survive on very little water. Here are a few water conservation tips:

Flush toilets use a great deal of water and are a luxury in most houses. Build yourself a pit latrine in the yard. No water required just a little bug spray to keep the insects at bay. Side note: The one down side to using a pit latrine is that once about 8pm hits the house is locked up and you are not allowed to leave until morning. Thus, you must have a pee bucket for use at night. Now, even though everyone uses a pee bucket, it is important that in the morning you empty it in secret. This is where the bucket bath comes in handy (see bullet point 4).
When doing dishes just use a single bucket. Fill the bucket with hot soapy water. No rinsing required, just dry the dishes and put them back. Side note: use the same dish water all day, no need to change the water even once it becomes brown and murky.
Do laundry by hand. Use two buckets, one with soapy water to wash and the other for rinsing. Important tip: always remember to start with your whites and lights and wash those first. The water turns brown pretty quickly, so to insure that your whites stay whitish always begin with those (lesson learned the hard way, I now have a selection of brown underwear). And just like with the dish water, no need to change the water once it becomes brown and murky, after all, it is just dirt.
And lastly, take a bucket bath. Who really needs a shower when you can take a bucket bath? All you need is a bucket (big enough to stand in), a cup for pouring, water and soup. With only two liters of water you can wash your entire body. Now, since bathrooms are a luxury, bathing is done in the bedroom, therefore it is important to keep the splashing under control. Always remember to start with your face and hair and then work down from there. A bucket bath spreads the dirt evenly throughout your body and leaves you smelling fresh and clean because you are unable to completely rinse all the soap from your body.

As I mentioned above, the dirty water after bathing can also be used to inconspicuously dispose of your pee bucket. Just keep the dirty bath water until morning and pour them out together, just make sure to rinse the bucket before using it again.

Now back to my main point. I have been at my permanent site now for a little under a month. I am spoiled here. Even though I do not have running water in my rondaval, the family’s house has all the western conveniences, a bathroom with a toilet AND shower along with a fully functioning kitchen sink. However, the problem lies within the last couple of days. I have been so spoiled with my daily showers that I have forgotten how to take a bucket bath. Just as I was beginning to take water for granted, the water to the community has been turned off. This means I have to resort back to the days of bucket baths. With this being said, water has become scarce and it’s back to the world of water conservation and I must resort back to the old way of life.

Africa in pictures, here's a small taste of my life

2010-04-05T18:30:00.000-07:00

Me with Ruby (3 month old baby who belonged to host sister during training)
some of the kiddo's during my time in training
swearing in day
a view of the outside of my hut (at my permanent site where I now reside)
a view of the inside of my hut (my bed)
another view of the inside of my hut
the kitchen area in my hut

Tsotsi, my guard dog

New life new beginnings

2010-04-04T08:51:00.000-07:00

Hello all! It's been two months since I have last written. Let me just
give you a brief synopsis of these past two months.
We (40 volunteers) arrived in Jo'burg on the evening of january 29th
after 26 hours of traveling. When we arrived it was raining. We were
later told that rain on a wedding day symbolizes the washing away of
the brides footprint from her home to her new home. This is a sign of
faith and commitment to her new family and future. We decided that the
rain upon our arrival showed our commitment to our life and work here
in South Africa.

We had two months of training. The first week we spent at a college
and then we moved in with local families. We learned to live a South
African lifestyle. This meant washing cloths by hand, using a pit
latrin, and cooking and eating pap. We also learned how to survive
with very little water. The water to the village was off about 80
percent of the time.

On march 25th we officially swore in as Peace Corps volunteers with
our supervisors in attendance. Shortly after the swearing in ceremony,
we all piled into our respective vehicles with all our luggage and
headed off to our perminate sits. As with most things in Africa, it's
always an adventure. Fifteen people (volunteers & supervisors)
squeezed into a fourteen passenger cumby (taxi) with a eight hour
journey ahead of us. Just pictures this: 15 adults & 30 pieces of
large luggage in van that is a little bigger than a mini van. So with
luggage straped to the roof and in every inch of space available in
the van up to our necks, we pulled out of the hotel parking lot. Not
even five minutes down the road, we were pulled over... Gotta love
life in Africa!

Now here I sit in my spacious rondival (hut). I live and work in a
small village in the province of Kwazulu Natal. I am 12 km from the
Indian ocean. Life in Africa is not always easy, with each day comes
a new adventure and a new challenge but it is all worth it when the
kids run up to me with excitement yelling 'Nokuthula Nokuthula!'
Nokuthula (Nok-tula ) is my Zulu name meaning quiet and peace.

My new address is:
PO BOX 800
Mtunzini 3867
South Africa

Love & Peace, Nokuthula

No Running Water?! This is the life in Africa!

2010-02-15T22:14:00.000-08:00

FYI: This is STILL not Erin, I am just the sister doing what I know best and that is updating my sisters blog as information is received. I promise, the one you truly want to hear from will eventually be updating her own blog. Until then you will just have to deal with me (the lovely sister).

It should also be noted this update comes from my parents (she doesn't love me enough to call me even though I update her blog, haha, JUST KIDDING, she hasn't had more than a few minutes in the last month to talk so obviously my parents get to speak with her).

My parents received the second phone call from Erin on Friday morning 2/12. The Peace Corp members (SA21 as in the 21st group of peace corps members to enter South Africa) are now living with their African families. The families live near the reserve where Erin will be training for the next two months. I believe the pictures on an earlier blog entry are of this reserve not the women’s college.

Erin’s African mom and dad are in their fifties and have no biological children. Other members in the household are a mentally disabled girl that is 19 yrs old with her 3 month old baby and also a 9 year old boy (Erin thinks he would be their great nephew but there are no words for niece and nephew in the culture it is all sister and brother). The boy’s mother also lives there on weekends.

Erin said the house is nice but there is no running water. That of course, means the bathroom is out back (as you can tell my younger sister is much more adventurous than I. I might run if you told me I had to live for more than a few days without running water!) Anyway, I digress, the house has 3 bedrooms, Erin has one, the parents have another and she said up to 5 others could be sleeping in the third bedroom.

Learning the language has been a little difficult because English is also one of the languages spoken in South Africa so they are not forced to speak in IsiZulu.

Some of the funny asides: During lunch at the reserve monkeys try to grab your food and one day while in class they turned around to see a baboon looking in the window at them.

Again the conversation was rather brief, she was at a pay phone with others waiting in line.

Erin said she just mailed some letters(didn’t have postage before). So hopefully, we will have some more information when we receive her letters.

Until next time...... (I don't know, I really have nothing clever to say as it is far to late for me to be thinking!)

A morning of Goodbye's

2010-02-10T21:26:00.001-08:00

This is how you pack for 27 months overseas
Sister LOVE
Mother & Daughters

This is Summer again (I know, I know, the disappointment!!) I just wanted to post a few pictures we took of Erin before we took her to DIA for the beginning of her journey to Africa. There may or may not have been some tears shed during these pictures, I couldn't rightly say. If there were tears I blame mom (and don't let her tell you otherwise!)

We have not heard from Erin since her first phone call to let us know she arrived. I will update this blog with any information we receive from her but at this point we are not sure when that will be. Hopefully at some point she will be able to her blog over again (as that is her intention if she is able.)

Lalani Kahle ("goodnight" in zulu)

First Update from Africa

2010-01-30T09:56:00.000-08:00

Let me start off by letting you know this is Erin's lovely sister Summer, not Erin herself but I am Erin's voice for now so hopefully that's not too much of a disappointment to any of you for now. Due to Erin's location deep in the African jungle (okay, I just made that up!) but truly due to the location of Erin's training center near Pretoria she will be out of contact for at least two months.

I will update this blog whenever my family hears from Erin (i.e. snail mail)

Erin was allowed to call to let us know she made it safely to Africa. Here is the e-mail from my mom, though Erin couldn't speak for too long:

We heard from Erin at 7:40 this morning and it was 4:40pm in South Africa. They are 9 hours ahead of us. From the time the group arrived at the airport in Washington DC until they arrived at the women's college north of Pretoria where they are staying, Erin said it was 26 hours. By the time Erin called they had already had a day of classes. They were given calling cards and had gone into a nearby town where they were calling from pay phones. So our conversation was fairly brief. There will be 3 months of training. The first week is at the college (pictures on this blog). The next 2 months they will move in with host families and the last month of training will actually be at the location they are to serve. It looks like she will not have Internet or cell service for we don't know how long. She sounded really good.

That is all from here for now but I will post as often as news comes in from my beautiful and brave sister!

Leaving on a jet plane

2010-01-25T21:52:00.000-08:00

It is Monday night at 11pm and I am all packed and ready to go! I have two checked bags. A 40lb backpacking backpack and a 30lb rolling suitcase along with a carry-on backpack. I fly to Washington D.C. tomorrow for staging which consists of orientation, introductions, shots, safety, etc. Thursday night at (Jan 28th) at 5:40pm we (35 other volunteers and I) leave for South Africa. After a quick stop in Dakar, Senegal to refuel we arrive in Johannesburg at 6:20pm Dec 29. It's just under an 18 hour flight.
The first week that we are there we will be staying at a college 2 hours outside of Pretoria. After that we will move in with host families. The pictures I posted last time are of the training center we will be at until March 25th. The training we will be going through is an immersion program which consisted of language, culture, safety, and technical training.
Upon arrival in South Africa I will be able to call home and let my family know of my safe arrival, but other than that I will have very limited contact (if any) for the first several months. My sister is kind enough to update my blog while I am out of contact with civilization.
The 10 day forecast for Pretoria, SA is highs in the low 80s and lows in the 60s with thunderstorms everyday.
My address for the first couple months is: (PLEASE write)
Erin Jamison
Peace Corps
PO Box 9536
Pretoria 0001
South Africa
(Hint: write airmail on the envelope)
On a side note, I want to thank my family for all their love and support. This would not have been possible without you! Love you a million (sloppy kisses)!! And thank you to my friends, you all are truly amazing, your love, support, and encouragement mean the world to me! I will miss you all dearly!

Now it is off to bed for a sleepless night of excitement and anxiousness!
Good bye Colorado. Good bye United States. Good bye family and friends. Look out South Africa, here I come!!!

A sneak preview of what's to come

2010-01-22T14:05:00.000-08:00

Here are pictures from our training area!