Five Things that Really Stood Out After I Returned Home

I started participating in the BloggingAbroad.org Re-Entry Blog Challenge a couple of weeks ago.  It's purpose is two-fold: 1) to provide insights for people who are wondering what it's like to return home after having spent time abroad, and 2) to provide a space for those who have been abroad to process their experience returning home.  You can read my first post here.  This iteration of the challenge is about five things that really stood out after I returned home.  The things I outline below are the first ones I either wrote in my journal or remember talking about with others.

1. Being able to understand (virtually) everything people around me were saying.

While many people in my village in South Africa spoke English, it was common that people would use their home language when having casual conversation or participating in a meeting.  With my limited ability to speak isiZulu, I found myself often giving up trying to translate what felt like rapid isiZulu.  The conversation would fade into other ambient sounds.

When I returned to the US, I had a layover in Chicago where I spent time with a couple of friends.  We went to dinner to grab some Chicago-style, deep dish pizza, which I had been craving for a long time.  While were at dinner, I couldn't help by notice my attention straying from our table to the tables around us.  I also noticed I was having a hard time focusing on any one particular table.  This is when I donned on me that I could understand everything that was being said around me!  For the first time in over two years, I could understand everything because everyone was speaking English.  And instead of tuning out the conversations, I found that I wanted to tune in.  I'm not one for eavesdropping, but now I wanted to listen in simply because of the novelty that I could.

This renewed sense of understanding was fun and exciting at first, but then the overwhelm creeped in because being able to understand everything meant I could understand everything.  I was bombarded.  I felt my energy being scattered trying to keep up with all of the conversations.  Over time, thankfully, I have learned to focus my attention again and now have control of when I tune in, tune out, and choose when I engage.  I feel like one of the X-men learning how to control her/his superpower.

Xavier Teaching Erik (Magneto) to Control His Superpower

2. Idioms are confusing.

Idiom. noun. a group of words established by usage as having a meaning not deducible from those of the individual words (e.g., rain cats and dogs, see the light). (Google search).

I admit I used idioms while I was in South Africa; especially when I first arrived.  However, as time progressed, I used them less and less because it took more time explaining what they meant instead of using language that was more direct and literal.

Why would the cat be there in the first place?

The first time I experienced hearing an idiom in the US was in Chicago during the layover.  My friend picked me up from the airport and we got into a conversation about writing, and he told me a story about a time his mom "tore apart" a story he had written.  When he said this, my mind immediately starting picturing his mom literally tearing apart his story; little bits of paper flying everywhere.  It took me a minute to realize I had this image, so I replayed what he said again in my mind and it was then I recognized that he meant his mom edited his story and, by the combination of the words he used, probably meant there were a lot of edits.  I laughed; mostly at myself for the misunderstanding and a little because it made me wonder if this was what South Africans had experienced when I used idioms.

3. Signage.

Signs were (and are) everywhere in the US.  I mentioned bombardment above about being able to hear English everywhere.  Signs meant I could see English everywhere.  This was a whole other level of stimulation.  I remember walking through the airports in Chicago and Cleveland staring at various signs trying to figure out where to go and not quite understanding because some of the signs either felt like they were competing against each other or I was supposed to infer a larger meaning (e.g. a sign pointing down and left meant I was supposed to go down a flight of stairs to the left of the sign - go figure!)

Hmmm... What is one to do?

When I thought signs at the airport were challenging enough, I was met with street signs.  Stop, go, one-way, yield, street names, temporary parking only, and on and on.  There were street signs in South Africa, but not nearly as many, and, besides, most of the time I was a passenger riding in a khumbi (i.e. taxi) so I didn't pay much attention.  Thankfully, the worst that resulted from reading/interpreting all of these signs was a parking ticket.  I got one for parking on the side of the street during the time it was designated for street cleaning.  And here I thought I was lucky to get such a good spot!

4. Options.

I had heard from many Returned Peace Corps Volunteers that the number of options at the grocery store could be overwhelming.  Knowing this and experiencing it proved to be very different things.  My first time experiencing it was at the grocery store was with my mom and sister.  We were at the deli counter.  I was excited to pick out meats and cheeses I hadn't had since I left.  After a couple of minutes of staring at the case, I turned back to my mom and sister who were standing next to the cart and asked if one of them could help me.  I told them I wanted turkey and cheddar, but I couldn't choose which one.  There were too many choices: smoked turkey, mesquite smoked turkey, honey turkey, peppered turkey, and that didn't get into the different brands, and that was just the turkey!  While was standing at the case, my eyes kept darting from one to the next and it was making me feel anxious.  The rest of the time in the grocery store continued in the same vein - me telling them what I wanted to eat and one of them picking out what they thought was best.

Barry Schwartz has a book about the overwhelm felt by having too many options called The Paradox of Choice.  You can also watch his Ted Talk to get a sense of his argument:

5. Pace of life, conversation, thinking.
Re-introducing myself to the pace of life in the US wasn't a new phenomenon having experienced it once before after coming back from a study abroad in Ecuador.  (Oh, how I missed siestas when I came back!)  I guess the hard part this time was my attempt at trying to hold onto the pace of South African life.  Asking people, "Unjani?" (How are you?) and meaning it.  The answer to this question varied depending where I was along Michelle's and my road trip from the South to the Midwest to the Pacific Northwest, which in turn denoted the amount of time someone was willing to give us.  Even moreso was the pace of the conversation - faster, slower, somewhere in the middle.  I had to tune my ears differently depending on a person's pace of speech.  I often found myself at least a couple of seconds behind on jokes and it was worse for sarcasm (another form of using words beyond a literal meaning; see above for idioms).

Even harder still was the pace at which people seemed to be thinking.  I guess these could have been instances of me comparing my inside to other people's outsides, but I felt like I was thinking more slowly!  I felt like all of what my brain had coming in was making it harder to produce a response that matched the quickness of others.  This feeling happened in waves.  The first wave was during our road trip, adjusting to the varied conversations and interactions with family and friends.  The second occurred when I arrived in Seattle, getting settled into our new home and meeting new people.  The third wave, and perhaps the hardest one, was at work.  Conversations seemed to happen so fast, with topics passing in what felt like the blink of an eye.  Moments to make decisions came quickly and I struggled under the pressure of deciding and trying to doing so while feeling informed.  I'm still feeling this effect, but it's getting easier.  I'm also getting better at asking for time to think.

Missing My Hammock Back in Manguzi

This post is part of BloggingAbroad.org's Re-Entry Blog Challenge.

It's Weird to Be Back...

Joe and I officially became Returned Peace Corps Volunteers (RPCVs) on August 24, 2016...

Our "official" COS (close of service) photo...

...and our super-fun Peace Corps family photos.

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We left South Africa and embarked on a beautiful, tearful, magical three week road trip where we were blessed to visit our phenomenally supportive, loving (and patient) family and friends.

We were reminded of all of the "life" we have missed by being far away: little children who are now giants compared to their former selves, babies that never existed before we left, the absence of loved ones who have passed on, the day-to-day living of lives.

It also took me nearly two weeks to fully grasp that, despite it feeling like an awesome vacation, I was not going to be returning to my village, my learners, my host family, my coworkers, or any aspect of the life I left behind in South Africa.

Thus, I ended the road trip feeling very disoriented and lost. My head was spinning with all that was missed, and all that I lived that my family had missed, and all that I would never live again.

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And finally, we arrived in Seattle. I had lunch with old friends. I visited my old colleagues and picked up right where we left off. It felt like, aside from some new faces and a GIANT new building, the two year gap never happened.

At first that felt beautiful, and then it felt...weird

It was weird to have it feel weird... so I wanted to understand why. And this is what I have come up with so far...

I do not know how I have changed, yet. These two years have been so important and meaningful to me that to even the mildest unacknowledgment (making that a word...) of it feels like a dishonor to all that was lived and all that was shared (between us and our host community), discovered, and sacrificed (by ourselves and our supporters) to make it happen. I haven't taken the time or the space to reflect on all of this and make a new meaning of the world around me, yet. Until then, I feel this weird disconnect between my soul and my body. I don't know the new "me" that I am, and that is terrifying.

So, I feel scattered and unconfident and speak rambling gibberish as my frantic brain works overtime to build connections and pathways around new paradigms and ways of being.

I am working to reflect in stages through my own guiding prompts. And there is one thing that I know after my first journaling session...
i am held.

My first reflection product.

I am held by a community who loves me and will churn out housing options, job postings, and messages of hope when I am feeling down. I am held by the higher powers of the universe (god, goddess, ancestors, whatever label one might use). I am held by my partner who is there for me, ride or die. I am held.

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Thank you for holding me.

A Mother's Reflection on Visiting her Peace Corps Volunteer

HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY 2016!

A month ago, M's parents came to visit us in South Africa and we would like to honour PCV moms on this Mother's Day by sharing about the trip, in my mom's own words... Q & A style.

My parents and I in Simon's Town. Joe was teasing us for being matchy-matchy.

What is the most cherished moment from your time in South Africa?

My most cherished part of the trip were my interactions with South Africans. It started with learning Cape Town history by Sean at Verona Lodge, interacting with Yasmina at the Cape Malay cooking class hosted in her own home and learning Bo Kaap history.

Mom learning how to make roti, a type of flatbread that is popular in many Indian and Malay dishes

Michelle learning to make roti.

Joe and Daddy learning to make samosa (or samoosas).

Then came Mama Mbatha [NB: J&M's host mom during training]. I adore this woman. She loves Joe and Michelle with her whole heart. She took what life dealt her with smile. Our discussion about rondevels, ancestors and talking to ancestors over tea keeps playing in my mind. Playing cards with the boys in both families [J&M's current host family and Mama's family] is a big highlight. Their current host family, especially their host brother and gogo [grandmother], were open and we found info on some of the modern Zulu culture.

Playing cards with our host brothers

J & M's Host Family

The school visits were such eye openers. These kids work hard. They have so much dedication in their hearts to your library, to their traditions and dances, and to the importance of education. These interactions made the trip.

Momma reading to learners at recess

Some of my Library Student Assistants

I also really enjoyed the Catholic church that we attended. The songs were so beautiful. Such harmony. We were not on vacation, but rather a cultural journey.

The Catholic Church

But the most cherished moment has to be the time with Mama. We were there for about 24 hrs but she was so open to us and to see the relationship she had with Joe and Michelle, the love and returned love and respect. It was obvious to us that they have made a difference in SA!!

Momma and Mama

What surprised you while you were here?

Two things surprised me.

1. The crime/ warnings of crime and the barbed wire on everything. The people are such polite and friendly people- Why do they accept crime being so prevalent?

2. The "markets" visits. People, including gogos, basically selling everything on the sidewalks or men saying "I will watch your car" to earn a living. Also their creativity with beading, weaving, metal working, tin can art and wood art.

What was the hardest moment when you were here? (Besides saying goodbye...)

The hardest moment was wanting to do more and not be able to do it at that time. I wanted to buy a lot and 200 blocks to start up Mama Maseko's crèche or bring the FEMA trailers there so the schools will have fewer kids per class. We wished to help these schools in some way, like in their libraries. For some reason I thought the books would magically unpack themselves. They are still going through the slow process of unpacking, labelling, and shelving the donated books.

Daddy telling stories to Joe's Grade 6 learners

Momma and Daddy with my Grade 7 learners

Mama Maseko teaching Grade R

What is one thing that you want Americans to know about South Africa?

Americans should know that South Africa is a beautiful and friendly country. Their style of singing  sets your blood wanting to dance within. The country is so green, even though the soil is sandy and it is during a drought. But this greenness doesn't mean the people have water. Mostly I want them to know that the people in South Africa are friendly and resilient. Their struggles with apartheid have given them voice and strength. Despite poverty and unemployment, they are trying to make a living (as evident in their beading and art from even tin cans).

Beautiful South Africa: Cape Town, Western Cape

Beautiful South Africa: Port Shepstone, KwaZulu Natal

Beautiful South Africa: Howick, KwaZulu Natal

Moneymoneymoneymoney, MONEY!

Like the classic O’ jays song, today’s post is all about the money. This is the newest prompt from the 2016 Blogging Abroad challenge. To catch up on our previous posts in this series, check then out: why am I abroad, a normal day in my life, views of a village, and my hero, Mama Maseko.

Show me the money! 

Source: http://cdn.smosh.com/sites/default/files/bloguploads/show-me-the-money.jpg

We wanted to highlight a few different ways to make 16 rand (or R16). With the current exchange rate, this is about equivalent to $1 in the US. So, what does $1 look like?

The easiest way to make R16 is: a R10 bill, a R5 coin, and a R1 coin.

R16 - the easy way!

The more complicated option… we’ve got two R5 coins, two R2 coins, one R1 coin, and two 50 cent pieces.

R5, R2, R1, and 50 cent coins

They also have 10 cent coins and 5 cent coins. However, almost no one will accept a 5 cent coin anymore, because…

FUN FACT! The 1 cent coin is obsolete in South Africa. This means if they ring up your bill at R24.57 (only it would be R24,57 because they use the comma instead of the period) and you pay in cash, they will only charge you R24,50. Woe if you pay with a credit card, you get stuck with the whole R0,07! #themoreyouknow

Price is Right: What can you get with $1?

We went to our nearby tuck shop (small convenience store) to explore some prices and show a few ways to make $1. The tuck shop is where we pick up odds and ends during the week. There are three grocery stores in town, where we do our bulk shopping on the weekends.

Our local tuck shop

First up, the “school lunch” combo: a loaf of bread (R11) and 5 bigga naks or nik naks, which are kind of like Cheetos (R1 each).

Bread and Cheetos

Add some spice in your life with a medium-sized bag of chips (R6) and a canister of Aromat, a salty spice which is put on everything (R10). Both are packed the flavour-enhancing monosodium glutamate. South Africa loves its MSG so much, you can just buy straight, powdered MSG in the grocery store. It is marketed as Zeal.

Aromat and Frimax

All of those salt and carbs making you thirsty? Reach for a nice, cold “cold drink” (R16). Cold drink is the blanket word for any kind of soda (or pop or Coke)…or anything you can find in a bottle that is not juice or water.

Cold drink

Serving tea with four slices of bread is a common way to greet and entertain new guests. Sometimes, though, you want to get fancy and grab a container of tea biscuits (small: R8; large: R16).

Tea biscuits

You can also buy some soap (R16).

Get clean!

Or self-rising flour (R16). You may be more interested in maize meal (its like a finer, white corn meal- R10). Joe swears by the cake wheat flour (R13). It makes your cookies super soft!

Beautiful flours!

What about produce?

In town, the sidewalks are filled with mamas selling vegetables and fruits. However, it can be difficult to purchase these in the village. Most families rely on what they grow in their own garden or exchange items with neighbours. Depending on what is in the season, the children crowd around the fruit trees. For example, every afternoon in November, kids will climb in our mango trees to knock out the fruit. In January, the izindoni trees (the fruit is purple and shaped like a teardrop, almost like a grape…I don’t know any English word for them) are all the rage. Now, we are starting to get into guava season.

All this money talk have you stressed?

You know what they say, "mo' money, mo' problems" (Notorious B.I.G.) Don’t worry. Remember life is so much more beautiful than what money can buy!



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Still curious? 

Post a comment with any everyday item and we will reply with the current cost in rand. It will be like a fun scavenger hunt for us!

Mama Maseko: My South African Hero

There are times in your life when you meet someone who brings you such faith and hope for humanity, the giddy joys of possibility, and the inspiration to do more. In my South African life, that woman is Ma’am (or often, Mama) Maseko.

Ma'am Maseko and I at Heritage Day 2014

I first knew that Ma’am Maseko was someone special when, while making conversation with educators at my school, more than one of them cited her as their inspiration for teaching. One said, “I knew I wanted to do something good with my life, but I didn’t know where to start. Ma’am Maseko convinced me to start volunteering at the school crèche to gain experience; I loved it so much I just kept teaching.” I made a mental note to get to know this influential person better.

Over the last year and a half, I continue to be inspired by this loving, thoughtful, and passionate friend and colleague. I wanted to honour her work and our friendship by telling a bit more about her and her story with you all.

To start, I want to provide just a snapshot of her work, both at home and in the community:

• Full-time teacher in grade R (kindergarten) at my school
• Works 3 Saturdays each month as a trainer for Universal College Outcomes (UCO); trainees are current and future teachers through the Early Childhood Development certification program.
• Diligently works to secure donations, sponsorship, and funding for her own community crèche.
• Occasional Sunday school teacher
• Occasional guest speaker at education-related events
• Mother of two teenage girls, one of whom should be off to college this year
• In her little remaining time, she volunteers to support and cook for family and church functions, does beadwork and other crafts (usually items for use in her classroom or in her future crèche), connecting with neighbours, reading, and listening to the radio.

Ma'am Maseko and all her grade R babies!

Mama Maseko: In Her Own Words

Michelle (Me): How old were you when you realized that you had a passion for working with children?

Maseko: In high school, I started teaching Sunday school in my church (African Evangelical Church). I would teach them songs, bible verses, and dramas so that every Sunday they could perform something for the parents during the church service. When I finished my matric (high school), I went to my nearest crèche and asked to volunteer. From 1998 they gave me a chance to work full-time with the small children.

Michelle: In your opinion, what are the most important aspects of Early Childhood Development?

Maseko: It is so important for children to go to school early to learn. A school or crèche must be suited to provide for the whole development of the child: intellectual, moral or ethical, physical, and spiritual development. We are teaching them not only the foundation for maths and languages, but also how to live their lives in a good way.

Michelle: Is that why it is your dream to open your own crèche?

Maseko: Yes. You must start when they are young to learn these things. Some people think that we are just playing in the crèche or in grade R, but even our games have a teaching purpose. The other reason why a crèche is important is to help the parents. In our area we are facing this challenge of teenage pregnancy. A 14-year old girl may be at home having a child, when she herself is also a learner in high school. As we are in a rural area, there are fewer job opportunities. So these young parents need to have an option for child care so that they can stay in school. Some of our parents are used to going to the fields and work from morning to sunset, while carrying babies on their backs. These early years are the times in the child’s life to try and help all children, especially those who are neglected due to the challenges to take care of them, by opening a place where they can be safe, secure and fed accordingly. The other reason why I want to open my own crèche is because I stay in a place where the nearest crèche is more than 3-4 km away. Most of our parents don’t have their own transportation, so if the crèche is too far, the children will not go.

Michelle: If money were no object, what would your ideal crèche look like?

Maseko: (With a huge smile) My ideal crèche would have two classrooms, one for younger children and one for the older children. It would have a kitchen area with cooking supplies and utensils, two toilets, a bathing room, and a sick bay. It would be good to have a small jungle gym outside with tires, balls, and skipping ropes for playing.

Michelle: How many learners and educators would you have?

Maseko: I think with this size it would be good to have up to 25 children. The educators must be able to teach the children well and take care of them so they are safe. When we split the children by their ages, we would need one educator for the older kids and two educators for the younger ones. We would also need a cook and a gardener or security guard. I have two educators who could come and at least 15 children already interested. The problem is that we have not been able to find or build the space. I started a crèche last year just using the carport of a neighbor’s house, but there were some issues with making the space available so we have since closed down. I still want to find some sponsorship to open a crèche permanently.

Michelle: Tell me more about the courses you teach on Saturdays.

Maseko: I work through UCO (Universal College Outcomes) to teach certification courses for Early Childhood Development (ECD). I mostly teach courses for ECD Practitioner Assistants (level 1) and ECD Practitioners seeking certification (level 4). I show them strategies for teaching the whole child through activities and play. We discuss what we must do to create a safe space for children to learn and how to encourage them to be successful. It can be difficult to get access to these courses in the rural area, so having a local facilitator is really important for training our teachers in the area. 

Ma'am Maseko, her co-teacher Ma'am Mcineka, and I dressed as learners for Hello Summer 2015

Who is Maseko to me?

Ma’am Maseko is my light and joy. Her excitement and love for her work is contagious. She and her co-teacher, Mrs. Mcineka, have created an exciting student-centered environment that is creative and resourceful. They have made caterpillars and crocodiles out of egg cartons. They have collected hundreds of bottle caps to teach counting and sorting. They have built bookshelves from found materials and empty milk cartons. They use group work and songs to teach teamwork, confidence, and language skills. In short, they are the type of educator that most educators aspire to be.

Even though she is exceptionally qualified and talented, Maseko is always eager to learn and grow. When I said I could help with computer lessons, she was the first person to show up saying, “I want to make an email address and I want to learn to type faster. But I don’t want you to do it for me, I want to learn.” When I started teaching remedial lessons, she was the first person to ask to sit in and observe a lesson.

When the children laughed at me because I mispronounced their names, she hugged me and wiped my tears. When I am excited about a new project or idea, she is the first person I want to tell. We talk excitedly about learning styles, learner confidence, and self-esteem. I taught her the word “nerd,” and now she laughs and says we are nerds together. Her friends and mentor describe her as dedicated, compassionate, a woman who truly understands the importance of our children and values her community. If I were her student, I would love coming to school every day! I love her dearly, and I thought you all should know her.

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Help her out:

Our Peace Corps grant options are limited when it comes to building buildings. This hurts my heart because if I would put my faith  any educator/school administrator, it would be her. She has solicited donations from local businesses but have not been able to yield the fundamental construction items. She has asked for help in identifying other grant options to which she may apply.

I would love you forever if you could research just one grant resource that might be willing to support a small, educationally focused construction project. Comment or email me with details and we will check it out!

A Day in the Life of a PCV

In 2014, we wrote about “A Day in the Life of a PCT” to share the normal training schedule for our post. Now that we have been teaching for a year, it is easy to describe a typical day in our life as full-fledged Volunteers. Here is a snap shot!

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5:30 am: Wake up. The sun is streaming through our copper curtains and white princess canopy/mosquito net. It is time to open my eyes and get ready for school (after a good 30 minutes reading in bed, because I am never in a rush to wake up in the morning).

Mmmm...cozy, cuddly beeedddd

6:00-7:00 am: Make my breakfast (typically cereal), feed Charlie, prepare my lunch (2 PBJ’s and fruit), get dressed (typically a cotton skirt and short sleeve top), brush my teeth, and wash my face.

7:00-7:15 am: Mental checklist… Lesson plans? Check. Textbooks? Check. Teaching aids? Check. Black bag with teacher’s file, USB, and keys? Check. Blue bag with any excess, lunch, and water for the day (filtered, of course…can’t have that runny tummy)? Check.

7:15 am: Depart for school. Ready for adventure, like Dora the Explorer!

Ready, ready!

7:17 am: Pass the cutest child that has ever existed and greet each other…repeatedly. I smell the fresh-caught fish that her mother is smoking over the fire. She will take these to sell over the weekend in the city, which is six hours away by public taxi. A high-pitched “goodbye!” echoes in my ears as I walk away.

7:18 am: Arrive at school. Greet the security guard at the gate. Sometimes I pass my bags to a group of learners who are running up to help me. Greet my colleagues.

7:30 am: The bell rings. I am embraced by the beautiful harmonies of morning prayer. You can hear a few recordings at the end of this post.

Grade 7 performing at assembly

7:45 am: Classes begin. I will teach 2 of the 6 periods that we have in the day. I use the remaining 4 hours doing any combination of the following:

• Preparing teaching aids, seating charts, or lesson plans
• Marking (aka grading)
• Training and supervising the library student assistants
• Meeting with the library committee
• Teaching other teachers how to use the computer
• Typing something for another teacher, for the principal, or for the library
• Teaching remedial phonics lessons
• Meeting with my Head of Department (HOD)

Preparing some teaching aids

10:45 am: Lunch time! Most days I stay in the library with my ever-inspiring and entertaining learners. I have a handful of regulars who eat their lunch with me every day, tell stories, and teach others to read. Sometimes, I eat lunch in the staff room with my colleagues, where we share and share alike (as is the culture). Other days we have a staff meeting, which will likely start late and go over time (which, is also the culture).

Fabulous learners

2:30 pm: Depart school. I get kicked out by the security guard if I so much as think of staying past 2:40. I catch a ride home with a colleague, because it is futile to refuse and point out how short my walk is. Also, it is always a good few minutes of social time with friends and makes me feel included.

2:40 pm: Return home. Greet Charlie, who tries so desperately to pretend that he is calm. He sits dutifully, but the wag of his tail moves his whole body like an upright wave. I let him outside and feed him.

CHARLES!

3:00 pm: Eat an afternoon snack (typically homemade white bean dip, hummus, or popcorn).

3:20-5:00 pm: Do ANYTHING POSSIBLE to find/become/stay cool. A tin-roofed, non-insulated house can get roasty toasty! Other possible activities include: teaching mini writing lessons to the swarm of kids next door (“ngicela ungifundisa” or “I am asking you to teach me” is a common chant), marking, lesson prep, exam writing, reading, washing dishes, or writing for the blog.

Our afternoon playmates!

Stayin' cool in a homemade hammock

5:00 pm: Every few days, we must fetch our buckets of water from the taps. I typically “thwala” the water (or carry it on my head). Joe carries two buckets at a time, like they are on a yoke. Beast mode!

5:30-6:30 pm: Walk Charlie. We use any number of the small trails around our home. The paths will range between deep sand and less-deep sand with rocks. They are surrounded by tall grasses, lush gardens, and scattered fruit trees. This is our special time together where we can talk, point out the things that we see, and enjoy the sunset.

Beautiful landscape

6:30-7:30 pm: Cook and eat dinner. This is typically some form of faux Asian-peanut-sauce over pasta, pizza, or the occasional stir-fry. This meal will often be followed by one of Joe’s famous desserts.

7:30 pm: Bucket bath! On hot days, I use the unheated camp shower that Joe bought in the city. On cold days, I heat water in a kettle and do the old school bucket-and-pitcher method.

8:00 pm: Watch TV or a movie from our laptop.

9:00 pm: Read until I pass out for the night.

Lale kahle.

Joe’s 18-Month Reflection

As has been my custom, I have written a reflection about my time in South Africa every six months. This one marks my third overarching reflection.

Looking back over the last few months, I observed I hadn’t written as much as I had previously. Pondering the cause, I realized it was because of a renewed sense of normalcy; one I hadn’t felt since before traveling from my home in the US and making a life for myself here in South Africa.

A New Normal
Of all the times I have moved to a new place, it has taken about a year for that new place to feel like home. Baldwin-Wallace, Baltimore, Colorado State, Tacoma… each place felt foreign for a time, until the familiarity of repetition through events brought recognition. In my present circumstances, that familiarity wasn’t truly felt until around the celebration of Heritage Day (held in September). It was at about this time in 2014 when I first arrived in my present site. The learners and teachers dressed in the garb of their tribes, traditional songs and dances were performed, and a meal was shared among kith and kin. I had the honor of bearing witness, and this time participating, in the celebration for a second time.

Prior to it, however, I felt restless, and even lost to a degree, because I had not seen what it was like to live in my permanent site the year before. I had reached the year-mark in South Africa (in July) but not a full year where I was presently living. I was still in a state of change; a state of newness. Living like that left me wondering what was in store each day and wondering what uniqueness would present itself to me.

My Cohort and I at Mid-Service Training

Thankfully, I had Michelle, my host family, my colleagues and learners at school, and fellow volunteers upon whom I could lean for support. It was the relationships I had been built with them that showed me through that time.

And then familiarity came… At school, I was starting to see lessons from the previous year and talk of preparations for what would be my second Grade R Graduation and Grade 7 Farewell was heard. At home, the mango tree started to fruit again. Most easily noticed was the change in weather – warmer, hotter temperatures, humidity thick and heavy as a wet, woolen blanket, and frequent rain showers – the signs of the approaching rainy season.

Standing with One of My Grade 7 Learners at the Farewell

With the familiarity of repetition came a comfort. My permanent site felt the most like home as it  ever had. I no longer felt like a visitor but, instead, like someone who lived here. Unfortunately, there was another feeling that came coupled with it all – boredom.

As my family and friends will attest, I typically don’t do well with boredom. I ask myself questions like, “What should I do now?” or “Is it time to move on?” In respect to my current home, what once seemed novel and interesting now seemed… regular. I found myself feeling uninspired and unsure of what to write and share with people back home. Would they still find my life here interesting or has the novelty worn off for them as well?

Girding this feeling, thankfully, was a sense of responsibility. I had committed myself to serving 27 months with the Peace Corps. Not that I was ever contemplating leaving early, but it served as a reminder that I was here to serve, which meant thinking about what I was going to do with myself in the time that remained:

• a library to finish setting up
• co-teaching with some of my colleagues
• hosting workshops for teachers
• teaching learners English
• instilling in learners senses of self-confidence, resilience, and perseverance
• spending time with my host-family and the kids who live next door
• doing what I can to share the beauty of South Africa and its people with family and friends

Michelle and Charlie at the Lake

Moving Forward
There are nine months left until the completion of my service with the Peace Corps. It is my aim to fulfill each of the tasks mentioned above. Throughout all of, it is also my intention to chronicle my experience; partly for anyone who reads this blog and... partly for my own memory, so, in the future, I can look back upon my time as a Peace Corps Volunteer and remember the finer points of my experience; the ones that give it its depth and detail.