Coffee Bay

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

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

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

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

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.