Over the River and Through the Woods… To the Indian Ocean, We Go!

(Please take note: this post is on the long side. But we’re okay with that because there’s no other way to tell this story; it’s just too good.)

This children’s song couldn’t be more fitting for the adventure we took about a month ago. A few weeks earlier, Michelle and I decided that we wanted to try to walk to the Indian Ocean from our house. When the locals go to the ocean, they spend about an hour in their 4X4 vehicle bouncing down the rutted roads. Although we could probably find someone to drive us there (PCVs are not allowed to operated motor vehicles while at site), we were excited for the opportunity to puzzle out our route and “hamba ngezinyawo” (go walking). We poured over the dinky map on Michelle’s cell phone and dreamed of the journey. We marked our calendars and were determined a day to go.

LEG 1: The Journey Begins…

Our hopes were slightly dampened when we woke to the sound of rain pitter-pattering on our tin roof.  However, I was feeling caged, and the thought of staying in all day was unappealing. I looked at Michelle and I said, “I don’t mind the rain. I just want to get out of the house.” Michelle smiled. With true Pacific-Northwesterner spirit, we quickly got ready, packed our day bags, and pulled up hoods of our rain jackets as we ventured outside.

We decided to retrace a route we took a few weeks prior that would get us to the edge of the third lake in the Kosi Lake system. We chose this route, despite it taking us a little bit out of the way, partially because it was a beautiful resting point and to see if we could remember it, but mostly because Michelle was nervous that we might not make it all the way to the ocean and wanted to take advantage of a guaranteed waterfront view. Although I did not share her concerns, I could see that it would make her smile and obliged the small detour.

Kosi Lake in the Distance

We were pleased to see that we could remember how to get to the lake, but we were surprised to find a few other people there (the last time we were there we had the lake to ourselves). We greeted the people in isiZulu and introduced ourselves. We learned that the people there were guides from a local tourist lodge who were waiting on a couple of clients. The head guide, George, asked what we were doing, so we told him about how we hoped to get to the ocean. He was shocked to hear that we planned to walk there because he said it was going to take a few hours. But he seemed more confident in our abilities (if not even more shocked) to hear that we had walked to the lake from our village, which took about 1.5 hours.

Before leaving them, we asked if he could give us directions from the lake to the ocean. We thought we had a good sense of where we were going, but we couldn’t miss this opportunity to gain better beta. He drew some rough directions in the dirt and gave us a few landmarks to follow. When Michelle and I left him waiting for his clients, he jokingly said he hoped to see us at the beach. As we left the lake, we came across one of George’s partners at the trailhead. He had just arrived with the clients. We exchanged greetings and introductions, and then we told him our plans. This guide was just as amazed as his partner had been. He double-checked to make sure we knew that this would be a long journey. After confirming that we prepared to walk for most of the day, the guide told us to wait for him at the trailhead. He said he would give us a ride in his safari vehicle to the South side of the lake after he dropped off the clients to help cut down on some of the walking.

Michelle and I were excited to receive his offer, so we sat waiting like little kids at Christmas for his return. When the guide got back, we climbed into the seats and we starting driving. It was a really cool experience to ride in the safari vehicle. It felt like you could see for miles! I had a huge smile on my face for the whole drive (about two kilometers); I couldn’t believe we were getting a ride like that.

The guide took us to a juncture in the road. He explained, “Take this road here and stay to the left. You will come to a river. Look for the raffia-branch ferry to pull yourselves across the river. Try to follow the edge of the lake on the other side and it will lead you to the ocean.” We thanked him for the ride and directions, and we continued on our way.

LEG 2: …Over the River…
We found the trail at the end of the road. The route to the river was pretty simple and direct. The river’s edge was marshy and lined with high, undisturbed grasses. It was clear that this was not where the ferry crossed. The guides had shared that the raft would be off the beaten path and used only by those who lived along the river’s edge, so we turned to the North and followed the smaller path upstream hoping to find the crossing. After a little while, the ground became more firm and defined. Finally, we found the raft.

The raft was a little longer than a queen-sized bed, but just as wide. It was attached to both ends of the shore by long ropes. To cross the river, we had to fetch the raft by pulling on the rope that stretches between our shore and the raft. Once the distance was closed, we stepped onto the raft and pulled a separate rope, which will brought us to the opposite shore.

The Rafia-Branch Ferry

There were some boys fishing on the other side of the river when we got there. A few of them were kind enough to pull the raft to our side and hand over the rope. Michelle and I boarded the raft, pulled on the rope, and crossed the river.

LEG 3: …And Through the Woods…
As we continued alongside the lake, we passed a herd of cows grazing near the water. Some of the cows were even out in the water (something new for me to see). Michelle asked the herders if we were heading in the right direction. Considering the language barrier, we took their nods at “ulwandle” (meaning ocean) and pointing to mean that we were going the right way.

After the lake, we wound our way through a wooded maze of trails and roadways. Michelle and I left markings in the sand whenever we came to a fork in the trail so that we would know how to find our way back. We could tell we were getting closer to the ocean because we started to feel a change in the temperature and, eventually, we could hear the sound of the water. We did feel discouraged a couple of times because we kept expecting to see the ocean after making a few turns, but it wasn’t there. With the little life left to the battery on Michelle’s phone (we didn’t have electricity the day before so she wasn’t able to charge it), we found our location on a map. The ocean was definitely within reach. Thankfully, we passed a couple of children who pointed us in the right direction and there were a few, sketchy signs that we didn’t expect to see that helped us.

We passed a campsite that we knew was near the ocean, because the guides had told us about it. This meant that we were nearly there. We walked a little farther; we could smell the salt of the sea now. Our excitement was growing.

The Thicket before the Ocean

We turned the corner, walked through some trees, and, through the thicket, we could see the blue of the ocean. Our pace quickened as we came out of the trees and could see the ocean stretched out into the horizon. We made it! After walking for 3.5 hours and traveling around 20 km, we had arrived at the Indian Ocean.

HALFWAY: The Indian Ocean!
It was beautiful. The waves were lapping on the shore. There were a few fishermen with lines in the water hoping to catch some kingfish. We walked along the shore mesmerized by the water and enjoying the breeze.

A Grand View of the Indian Ocean

Michelle and I ate our lunch; after walking so far, we were famished. Michelle was feeling a little anxious about the timing and was eager to get back on trail. However, she could tell that taking the time to enjoy the beach was important to me so we decided to sit a little longer to take in the moment.  We made ourselves comfortable in the sand, and I closed my eyes for a bit while I listened to the waves.

Waves Crashing Upon the Shore

I told Michelle that I wanted to stick my feet in the ocean before we left. We took off our boots and walked to the water’s edge. The water felt refreshingly cool. We walked parallel to the shore to the spot where we entered the beach, snapping pictures along the way. As we neared the entrance/exit, we saw a familiar face standing there – it was George, the guide that we met at Kosi Lake! He saw us walking up from the water and, with a huge smile on his face, he ran down to meet us halfway. He was amazed to see us because he was impressed that we made it. We tried to make him laugh by telling him it was because of his directions.

Michelle's and My Feet in the Ocean

George asked us how much longer we planned to stay on the beach. We told that we were on our way out now because we need to get back before dark. He told us that if we were willing to wait another hour he would give us a ride in his boat back across the lake because there were plenty of seats. Michelle and I couldn’t believe our ears. It was too good to be true. We happily accepted his offer. The guide told us that while we waited there were sea turtle nests we could view on the beach. (Note: sea turtles are one of Michelle’s favorite animals). He told us how to find the nests and he set us loose. We found a few nests along the beach, and we were careful not to disturb them.

Low Tide at the Ocean

Finding ourselves with some time to kill, we sat down in the sand watching the water. Before long, dozens of crabs starting poking their bodies out from beneath the sand. The crabs with their little fire red shells and claws cautiously cleared sand out of their homes. It seemed like a futile endeavor considering that their homes would be underwater when the tide came back in.

A Crab Poking Out Its Head from Beneath the Sand

LEG 5: The Journey Home
After an hour went by, Michelle and I, along with the guides and their clients, boarded the boat and headed back across the lake. Like when I was on the safari vehicle, I couldn’t help but smile as we sped over the water. I couldn’t believe this was happening.

We made it to the other side of the lake and docked the boat where we originally met the group. We helped the guides carry some of their equipment back to their truck. They all climbed into the truck, we said goodbye, and they drove off. Michelle and I laughed and reveled in the experience we had just had. After a couple of minutes, we started walking so we could get back home.

LEG 6: The Detour
Along the way, we saw a house in the distance that we recognized from a photo a fellow Peace Corps Volunteer had shown us. He told us it belonged to a friend he and his wife had made while they were in our shopping town. I saw that there was a truck parked outside the house and there were people sitting on the porch. Michelle said, “How funny would it be if those were our friends up there!” We hadn’t walked more than a few steps before, lo and behold, we heard the people from the porch yelling our names. We turned and looked in their direction and we were overjoyed to see our friends waving their arms.

We detoured from the trail and meandered up to the house. Our friends had huge smiles on their faces and gave us big hugs. We were all amazed to see each other. They introduced us to their friends who were quick to invite us to dinner. It felt great to sit on the porch, sip a nice beverage, and overlook the lake we had just came from. After the sun set, one of the new people we met told us to listen closely. As we listened, we could hear a deep noise that sounded like a low foghorn. She told us the sound was coming from hippos – so cool! It was too bad we couldn’t see them.

After finishing dinner and chatting some more, our new friends drove us back to our house. Michelle and I walked inside, looked at each, and simply said, “What a wonderful day.”

Post-Script
In reflecting on our journey to the ocean, a couple of lessons/reminders stand out. First, it was our trust in each other and listening to our needs that allowed this day to be truly magical. If I had not compromised with Michelle to stop in at Kosi Lake, we never would have met George and would probably have failed in our journey. If Michelle had not compromised on the time we would start walking home, we would have missed George again—and missed out on the sea turtle nests, the dancing of the crabs in the tide, and the generous ride across the lake. This was a nice reminder of how beautiful it can be when we slow down and listen to one another.

Michelle & Me Standing on the Shoreline

Secondly, seeing the ocean wasn’t the only amazing part to the experience, though; it was getting there and back that truly made the experience exceptional. It’s often said that the journey is more meaningful that the destination. In our experience, it couldn’t have been more true. A month ago, we made it happen. We walked to the ocean. And it was as breathtaking as we hoped it would be.

The Mango Tree, My Gym

There’s a mango tree that sits right outside my front door. It’s large, maybe about 25-30 feet tall, provides great shade for reading a book, and has many branches extending from its peculiarly small trunk. The mango tree has produced fruit for many years now, and this time of year the mangos are ripe for eating. It has become a common occurrence for Michelle and I to hear small thuds when mangos fall from the tree and land on the ground. The ground around the tree is littered with the small, red, yellow, and green fruit. I have come to find that the mango tree has another quality that makes it a great tree – it’s also a gym.

As one can easily understand, living in a small village means that there isn’t a gym nearby where I can work out. (I actually would find it weird if there was a gym). This hasn’t deterred me from getting exercise though. I’ve been able to run and do push-ups and sit-ups. Running is a particularly good workout because most of the roads in our area are sand, which adds an additional element to the run.

Me Hanging from the Tree

One day a couple of weeks ago I had just gotten back from a run. I was walking around the yard in front of my house cooling down. I looked at the mango tree and noticed a branch that was sitting just high enough that it gave me an idea. I walked to the branch, grabbed it with both hands, and picked my feet off the ground. It was just as I had hoped; the branch was high enough to enable me to do pull-ups. I did a set, which felt good and also amazing considering that I hadn’t done a pull-up in a few months (as I rock climber, I was used doing them almost daily). After that, I did some leg raises while hanging from the branch. It was a nice workout overall. Since then, I have discovered a place where I can do dips in between two branches.

When I first moved into my house, I thought the idea of having a mango tree outside my door was cute. It felt exotic, and it fit perfectly into my idea of what it was going to be like to live in another country; something different than I was used to. After a couple of months, I have come to find that the mango tree is more than what originally caught my eye. I also can’t help but smile as I think about the relationship I’m building with a tree. I told Michelle the other day that it would be cool to hang a hammock from two of its branches. I just need to find and/or make one.

An Unexpected, Teachable Moment

A few weeks ago, I started co-teaching in the classroom. It’s part of my training during the second phase of my Peace Corps tenure. It’s meant to give me experience in the classroom before I take over completely in January when the new school year begins.

Earlier last week, I had an unexpectedly wonderful moment with the grade seven learners. Exams are coming up soon, so I was reviewing the writing process with them. I had gotten to the step in the writing process where they were going to edit their work. I wrote a sample paragraph on the chalkboard riddled with grammatical errors and misspellings. I gave the class a few minutes to make edits to the paragraph. The learners and I then went over the edits together. While we did this, there were a couple of learners who thought I should have put a period (called a full stop in South Africa) before the word “because” in one of the sentences. At first, I didn’t think much of this suggestion; I simply explained that the sentence was written correctly.

Before I moved onto the next part of class, I asked if they had any questions about editing. A learner who’s one of the more involved participants in class raised his hand and asked, “Why didn’t you put a full stop before ‘because’?” This time, instead of saying the sentence is correct, I decided to give more of an explanation. I told him and the other learners that the word offers more information to the first part of the sentence, or, to put it another way, the second half of the sentence is an extension of the initial thought. Then something happened that I wasn’t expecting; the learners asked a follow-up question – “why?”

(Sidebar: Since I started working in the classroom, I haven’t witnessed learners ask probing questions. Usually they accept whatever is given to them. This is partly because there is a deep respect for elders, like teachers, in the Zulu culture. It’s also because learners aren’t challenged to think critically. The focus is more about getting things right. For example, another time when I was teaching, I explained that in English there are many ways of saying the same thing. Virtually all of the learners had a hard time understanding this concept because in their minds to be right is to do everything the same way, including how something is said or written.  Okay, back to the story...)

I responded with a question, “Have you heard that a sentence is a representation of a thought?” This puzzled the learners; what does that mean? Seeing that they didn’t understand, I explained that anytime they wanted to express a thought they used sentences; whether that was in writing or in speech. People who speak or write well use whole sentences, or, to put it another way, whole thoughts. I then gave them examples of what I meant. It didn’t take long for them to get it. Eventually they were giving me examples. They looked pleased with themselves that they understood.

We continued on with class, and the moment passed without further thought for me. It wasn’t until I was home and telling Michelle about my day that this experience stood out as significant. I realized it was an unexpected, teachable moment. What’s more… it was a moment inspired by a learner asking a meaningful question. It’s in these moments that I feel that I am truly making a difference. I don’t doubt, at least I hope, that the learners are learning when I’m giving instruction, but I think the best teachable moments come from the learners themselves. It’s when learners take command of their own learning and make their own meaning. It’s when they construct knowledge on their own and begin building a foundation as lifelong learners.

Computer Lessons

As I am getting more settled into my school, I am beginning to find ways to contribute. One way is by teaching the educators how to use, or become more proficient at using, computers. I started giving one-on-one lessons last week, and there is a short story that I would like to share.

My school has a desktop computer that we have been using for the lessons. Toward the end of the week, I was late for a lesson because something held me back. I rushed to the space where the school’s desktop was kept. I was afraid the educators weren’t going to wait on me, so part of me expected not to see them. When I got there, I was pleasantly surprised to see the educators not only there but they were teaching each other. It was such a cool site to see that I took a picture. I showed them the picture and gave them praise. We share laughed.

Educators Teaching Each Other

The educators didn’t know how good it felt to see them helping each other. This brought a smile to my face, and I hope it made you smile as well.

TOMS: An Ethics Case Study in Volunteerism

As many of you know, Prior to PC service I was in charge of training and recruiting volunteers at a university. In these programs, I would challenge my students to grapple with several ethical, social, or moral issues that arise during volunteer service.

Joe and I just had an experience that fits directly into these categories…

Setting the Stage (Hook):

One day, our custodian stopped by and measured my shoe size. I was confused and asked if we were buying shoes. She said, “No. These shoes are free. We will just take this size and get the shoes.” I was confused, but she left before I could ask more questions. I found out later that day that I had been included on an order for a free pair of TOMS shoes… I had many feelings about this and it prompted many questions about ethics, sustainability, and volunteerism.

((If you are currently thinking, “What? Why? Just take the shoes,” I would challenge you to explore these questions and to fight the urge to find the “right answer.” The beauty about these issues is that there is no absolute right answer. That is why I love this work so much! ))

TOMS "One for One" Shoes

Context:

If you are not familiar with the TOMS “One for One” program, I will provide a quick summary. TOMS shoes are made very simply with a flat, rubber bottom, thick canvas, and either some elastic or a few holes for laces. They are fairly popular and the cost reflects this. Many folks justify this cost because TOMS has a “One for One” promise, which: for each pair sold in the developed world, one new (though much lower quality) pair is donated to a person in the “developing” world.

Rural South Africa would be classified as “developing.” Many children go to school barefoot. Learners’ uniforms are often held together, literally, by a thread. Electricity and water are not always reliable. Unemployment rate in Kwa-Zulu Natal is 45%. Many families are suffering from the effects of HIV/AIDS. Financial struggles abound. A new pair of shoes that the family doesn’t need to figure out how to pay for? That is a blessing.

The Dilemma(s):

As you can assume from the “Setting the Stage” section, TOMS uses the school system to help deliver these shoes to children. Schools are able to record the desired sizes and place an order for the shoes needed. I found out that the shoes are from TOMS because a teacher asked me to help compile the desired sizes for the order form.

Dilemma 1: There are roughly 430-ish students, educators, and volunteers associated with my school. The order form had over 500 shoes. When discussing this with others, some responded to this number difference as “taking advantage” of the system.

Personal Thoughts: The majority of the extra shoes went to family or other community members connected to the students. My question is: if the shoes are being given to someone who needs them, does it matter if they are physically at this one, specific school? Personally, I do not have issue with this; though I will admit that it felt a little yucky when I initially looked at the numbers.

Dilemma 2: Some teachers are still wearing their TOMS shoes from the last order. Again, this elicited some knee-jerk reaction of “taking advantage” of the system.

Personal Thoughts: These shoes are of very poor quality. One person says that he is able to tell where he has walked because the rubber flakes off so easily. The old pair is probably about worn thin.

My personal feeling: Those with worn-out shoes—even worn-out TOMS—are the target recipients. So, I do not see this as a departure from their mission. Is it sustainable? Evidently not. Is there a long-term benefit? Perhaps no. Is there a reasonable/justifiable, temporary benefit received by the community? I think so. Would it have a slightly longer lasting impact if they donated shoes of the same quality as those available for purchase? Definitely. I imagine that TOMS is aware of these issues. They have since developed other programs that have more potential for sustainability than the “One for One” shoe program.

Dilemma 3:  To accept the TOMS shoes, or to not accept the shoes? That is the question.

To Not Accept The Shoes:

I am not the intended recipient of these shoes. The buyers in the US didn’t think to themselves, “Hey, I really want to buy these shoes for that volunteer who willingly chose to live in rural Africa.” I chose to be here. This is temporary for me. Although I cannot afford new shoes on my living allowance, the fact remains that I have enough financial access and privilege to get new shoes on my own accord. Shoot, if I was that fed up with my situation, I could always just go home. Not to mention that I had enough financial security in the US that I brought all the shoes I could need with me.

To think of it another way … Although I may be living at the same standard as my community, it would be completely immoral and inappropriate for me to seek need-based grants that are available to those in my community. Perhaps these shoes are a form of those need-based grants?

To Accept the Shoes:

When I tried to explain to my other teachers why I shouldn’t receive the shoes, they were bothered by my protests. I am a part of their community now, why was I trying to differentiate myself from them? In volunteerism, we talk about serving “with, beside and for” the community.  Am I unnecessarily setting myself apart from them? Is my white-US-financial privilege causing me to take an “us vs. them” approach in my service—that someone “like me” can’t possibly be in a position of need?

Conclusion:

At the end of the day, Joe and I have each received and accepted one pair of shoes. I predict that one of two things will happen: I will either give the shoes to someone in my community or start to use them, with a vow to buy a pair of TOMS when I return to the US as a way to atone.

A Weekend Away

Michelle and I had a splendid time with our friend Patty, a Peace Corps Volunteer from our cohort, a couple of weekends ago. During the first few months while we’re settling into our permanent site, we’re allowed to travel away one weekend per month as long as we stay within our province. Michelle and I decided to use our weekend to visit Patty. (See The Kindness of Strangers for an account of our journey travelling to Patty).

During our visit with Patty, we talked, shared high’s and lows about our Peace Corps experience thus far, baked pizza and made French toast, and played one of my favorite games – Settlers of Catan. It felt so good to get away for the weekend. The trip gave me something to which to look forward. I haven’t been the kind of person who likes to stay stationary or spend all day indoors. I like to get out, explore, and to see and do things. Since I arrived in South Africa, my experience has been more like the former. It has been an adjustment for me to spend so much time in one place. Spending a weekend with Patty gave me exactly what I needed.

Michelle & Patty Playing Settlers.  So nerdy! :D
Patty asked for a "shout out" to the ironing board in the background that doubles as a table.

Further, conversation with Patty was enlightening. I have had significantly more free time on my hands since I’ve gotten to South Africa. This has given me time to reflect and process. Talking with Patty helped me process through some things because she gave me language that I could use to describe what I have been feeling. As an added bonus, Patty shared some life wisdom that helped to give me perspective on some of my own life experiences.

In addition to seeing Patty, when we went to the mall in her shopping town, we got to see another volunteer from our cohort, Karen, and spend the day with her too. Having a weekend away was a wonderful gift. I look forward to the next one.

The Casper Slide

Throwback Thursday...

***This post was originally written on 2 September 2014.  I accidentally saved it a different folder than where I keep posts, so I didn't know it was there.  Now that I've found it again, I'm uploading it to the blog.  Enjoy!***

Today was a great day at English Club. It was the last day before the club ended, so my co-instructor, Guillermo, and I taught a lesson about American culture. We decided to focus on music from around the country. We showcased Rock (go Cleveland! – Home of Rock ‘n Roll), Rap, R&B, Country, and others. We ended by having our learners listen to The Casper Slide.

If you’ve never heard it before, here’s a link to hear what we showed them:

(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cb6pJ4AEOoI)

The Casper Slide is a great song to teach learners who are learning English as their first additional language. It’s catchy and the lyrics are instructions to dance.

Guillermo and I wrote the lyrics/instructions on the chalkboard. As the song played, I pointed at the various instructions so the learners would connect the words visually and auditorily. Guillermo and I then modeled how to perform the dance moves associated with the instructions. This is where the fun part came in – we had the learners then start dancing with us! They fumbled a bit at first; like most first-timers do. However, after a few repetitions, the learners danced quite well.

One of the times they danced, I ran to the classroom next to mine to see if the instructors were okay with my learners performing for their learners. The instructors were on board, so I ran back to my classroom and told my learners what they were going to do. My learners were excited and nervous. When the music started, they started dancing, and the other class went berserk. The other learners thought it was so cool that my learners were dancing and, further, dancing for them. My learners had a blast learning the dance. As they exited the classroom at the end of the day, I could hear some of them humming the song.

The Kindness of Strangers

If I was in the U.S. planning a trip, I would Google the address and plug it into my phone. I would use the directions given through the Maps app on my phone to drive to my destination. But I’m not in the U.S. I am in South Africa and Michelle and I had to find our way to our friend’s house who lives a considerable distance from our home. To tell the ending of this story first, we made it to our friend’s house and we had a blast spending time together. Now, to share how we made it to our friend, Michelle and I also have to thank the people who helped us get to her.

Michelle and I wanted to visit a friend of ours, Patty, who lives a couple of hours away. Since we’re not allowed to drive, we needed to take public transportation. This is where the first instance of kindness comes in. After school one day, I walked to the taxi rank, which is the hub for all of the taxis going out of our village, to ask the manager how we would get to our friend’s shopping town. (Virtually all Peace Corps Volunteers in South Africa do not live in cities, or shopping towns, but, instead, live in villages outside the towns. This basically means that Michelle and I were trying to get somewhere remote). The manager was great because he told me the times the taxi runs, where we would need to transfer, and how much we could expect to spend. Michelle and I had the information we needed, so we were set for our trip.

At the end of the school day on Friday, we loaded our backpacks with clothes and other essentials for the weekend and we headed to the taxi rank. Things were smooth sailing: we got to the rank, confirmed we were getting on the correct taxi, and we left. Not having travelled outside our village before, we made it a point to tell the taxi driver our final destination and we asked him to help us find the taxi we would need to make the transfer. When we got into the next town, the driver asked a couple of people to find the taxi we would need to continue on our trip. He found the taxi, we paid the taxi fare, and sped off in the new taxi.

As we neared the final town, Michelle and I again told the taxi driver where we were trying to go and asked if he could help us find the taxi we would need in order to get to our friend’s village. This is where our trip got more complicated. Our friend lives outside a fairly large town, so there are lots of taxi ranks with each having taxis heading in different directions. The taxi driver was great because he asked other drivers in the main taxi rank which taxi we would need. The other drivers pointed him in the direction of a smaller taxi rank where they believed we would find the taxi. He drove us to the next rank and asked drivers there. There was a little confusion because some of the drivers hadn’t heard of our friend’s village. After a few minutes, though, our taxi driver said we were in the right place. He said we would have to wait for the next taxi because one just left. Michelle and I thanked the driver, paid the fare, and got out to wait for the next taxi.

As we waited for the taxi, Michelle and I couldn’t help but notice that this taxi rank was merely a parking lot. There were a few taxis sitting there. However, if it had not been for the driver, we would have had trouble finding this rank. We realized how kind the driver had been to us. He could have left us in the main rank and we could have been on our own.

Waiting for the next taxi seemed to take a while. Fortunately, though, there were some vendors selling fruits and vegetables in the parking lot. We approached one of them and asked if we were waiting in the right area. The vendor confirmed and she said she would see a taxi soon. Thirty minutes went by before the taxi came, but, when it did, the vendor got our attention and told us to get in. Apparently, she used the same taxi to go home, which I learned when she got in with us.

Along the way to our friend’s village, the vendor, along with her business partner, made conversation with others in the taxi. Some of the others bought steamed corn on the cob from the vendor. The vendor’s partner said something in isiZulu to Michelle, but we didn’t understand. The next thing we knew the partner pulled out a couple of ears of corn and handed them to us free of charge. We smiled as we thanked her for the corn. As I was sitting there, I thought I should give her something. Before Michelle and I left our house, I baked chocolate chip cookie bars to give to our friend. The cookie bars were sitting in my bag, so I pulled out the container and offered one to the vendor. She was flattered. Another passenger in the taxi was curious so she asked for a cookie bar. Michelle and I smiled again as the two ate the cookie bars and were amazed at not only how good they were but also that I made them. They couldn’t believe a man could bake let alone bake something good.

After a bumpy ride along the village road, Michelle and I made it to our friend’s place. We were grateful for the journey to be done. Our friend was beginning to tell us where we would sleep for the weekend when her host family approached us to introduce themselves. During the introductions, the host mom told us that we could sleep in their spare bedroom so we could have a bed instead of sleeping on the floor. Icing on the cake. Michelle and I were prepared to sleep in sleeping bags on the ground, but we were grateful for the bed for a much more comfortable night’s sleep.

The next day, we wanted to go to the mall in our friend’s shopping town. The three of us were planning to catch a taxi to get there; however, the host mom said her husband would give us a ride. We said he didn’t have do drive us; especially because he would have just finished working the night shift and would probably be tired. The host mom said not to worry because her husband would get joy out of driving us. When our friend’s host dad got home, we hopped into his truck and off we went. On Sunday, when Michelle and I were leaving to head home, the last act of kindness happened. Our friend’s host sister accompanied us to the road to make sure we got on a taxi.

There were several acts of kindness in just a few days. Taxi drivers, vendors, and host family members who all helped us get to where we were trying to go. Michelle and I were confident that we would have had a much more difficult, and longer, time getting to our friend if it had not been for them. We were, and still are, incredibly grateful for the kindness of these strangers.

Peace Corps Living Life Hacks (Part 1)

Life Hack (ˈlʌɪfhak/): refers to any trick, shortcut, skill, or novelty method that increases productivity and efficiency, in all walks of life. (source: en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Life_hacking)

Peace Corps living (low budget flow, borrowed space, new country, unreliable/limited access to conveniences we are accustomed to) is the perfect breeding ground of creative "life hacks." We are enjoying the process of coming up with these tricks and are eager to share. We hope you find them as amusing as we have....

Cracked Flooring/Foundation: We discovered that our flooring has several serious cracks. In some places, it creates a deep bowl shape. The family had taken steps to minimize the effect by piling sheets of linoleum over the area. As new arrivals, we still had many chunks of compressed Styrofoam packaging and cardboard around. Hopefully, you have these same materials because they are key in this life hack.... Insert puzzle-pieced chunks of Styrofoam into bowl-shaped indentation (enough to mostly cover the area). Cover with cardboard. Cover with linoleum. Boom! A (more) even walking surface!

Lack of Roping for Hanging Mosquito Net: Use long strips of duct tape. Cut in half length-wise to reduce the amount of duct tape used. Take one of these skinny strips and fold it in half length-wise. Avoid folding the ends because you will need them to retain adhesiveness. Wrap one end of duct tape around ceiling post; adhere the end back onto the duct tape to create a loop (and minimize damage to the teal paint on said post). Wrap other end around the corner loop on the mosquito net. Adjust to appropriate height (be sure you can still tuck the ends under your mattress). Adhere the end back onto the duct tape. Repeat.

Rope o' Duct Tape

Lack of Rolling Pin: Use a Nalgene.

Joe demonstrates our "rolling-nalgene."

Cannot Hang Photos on the Wall: Attach a weighted fishing line to exposed ceiling beam. Attach photos with clothes pins. Extra: Attach sticks horizontally to add width to your pinning space.

Photo Display in our Main Room

Overall Effect

Cake Pan Too Big for Stoven*? (especially when you have gone to 7 stores searching for each item to begin with…): Use pliers to bend down the arms of the cake pan. Bonus: If it still doesn’t fit, throw the cake pan, curse the world, and take up an electricity-free lifestyle based on principle. 

*click for a photo of a "stoven"

"Won't fit in the stoven!? We'll see about that..." 

Need to Boil Water on Crappy Stoven-Top Burner?:  Pour just a little water in
pot and turn burner on high. Boil remaining water in electric tea kettle. Add boiled water from tea kettle to pot. Insert food item that needs boiling.

Need to Wash Your Hands But Running Water is Too Far Away?: Dilute handsoap in water. Pour into empty water bottle. Poke a hole in lid of said water bottle. Twist lid on. Voila!

Standard-Issue Wardrobe Might Take a Few Months to Be Delivered?: Those of you who know Joe know that he is a keep-it-organized-and-keep-it-ironed kinda guy. These natural tendencies + Living out of a suitcase in a culture that also values impeccable dress = Problem.  He is also an avid climber who geeks out over cool knots and anchors. This skillset + Exposed ceiling beams + New rope = Solution!  [Bonus for fellow climbing nerds... Featured knots: Single Bowline, Slipped Half-Hitch, and Alpine Butterfly (Joe adds that the alpine butterfly isn't necessary, "just nice to have.")]

Make-Shift Wardrobe
*The Alpine Butterfly knots are used to create dividers on the rope to prevent a drift towards the center.

Close-Up of the Slipped Half-Hitch

Stolen From Other PCVs:

Electricity-Free Flea Trap (mind you, I have no idea how to make an electric-ful flea trap, so that adjective may be unnecessary): Prepare a wide bowl with warm, soapy water. Take the long candlestick that you were intending to depend on for light after sunset. Mourn the sacrifice of said candlestick. Chop off the top of the candle and place it in the water, leave wick uncovered. Light wick. Fleas will allegedly jump after the light and will find themselves in their “watery grave” (…these are apparently pirate-fleas).

Computer Overheats When Sitting on Lap: WHAT?! You didn’t bring one of those fancy computer lap rests with built-in fan when you joined the Peace Corps? Of course not… Simply use an empty cereal box.

Bed-Bugs: Bleach mattress and set blankets/pillows to bake in the sun for two days.

A Letter from a Learner

(Please note: this post was originally written on August 29, 2014. Although it’s been a month since I originally wrote it, I thought it was still worth sharing. Enjoy!)

English club is winding to a close. There are only three days. Yesterday, my co-instructor and I received a wonderful surprise from one of our learners. One of our learners gave us a letter. :) She waited until the other learners left the classroom before she approached us. I didn’t think anything of it at first because I like to stand at the door giving our learners high-fives and telling them “I’ll see you tomorrow” as they exit. She was the last one in line. As she got up to me, she said she wanted to give us something. My curiosity piqued; I wondered what it might be. My co-instructor and I are smiled excitedly as she pulled a letter out of her pocket. She handed me the letter, gave me a high-five, and left the classroom.

My co-instructor and I were very excited to see what she wrote. The letter was inside an envelope she folded out of paper. The envelope had pictures of flowers drawn on it. The letter was very sweet. In it, the learner told us that my co-instructor and I are her favorites teachers. She said she enjoys our club very much and she thinks were so nice. Huge smiles spread across our faces as we read the letter. When we finished, we laughed heartily.

It was such a delight to receive the letter. And it couldn’t have come at a better time. I’ve been in training for eight weeks now, so I’m growing tired. I am enjoying myself, so there are no worries there. However, receiving the letter lifted my spirits. It’s nice to know that I/we are reaching at least one learner.

Heritage Day

Heritage Day is celebrated throughout South Africa on September 24th. It’s a time to gather, enjoy traditional food, sing songs, and dance; all while wearing traditional clothing. My school celebrated Heritage Day in grand style. All of the learners performed a song and dance by grade. As a special treat, some of the teachers performed a song as well. I noticed none of the male teachers got involved in the performance, so I asked them if we could in the future. They smiled nervously but agreed. After the performances, we ate a traditional meal. I brought chocolate chip cookies to share. The teachers were surprised to find out that I can bake. (In Zulu culture, men don’t normally cook).

Grade 7 Learners Performing a Song and Dance

Sitting back and observing this holiday in action was breathtaking. My school has at least a few learners from other areas of the country as well as from other countries, as I learned from talking with my colleagues and from seeing the clothing they wore for the celebration. I learned even some of the teachers come from other parts of the country. In addition to traditional Zulu attire, some people wore traditional Xhosa clothing.

A Teacher Wearing Traditional Xhosa Attire & Joe Wearing Traditional Zulu Attire

Michelle’s school also celebrated Heritage Day. Although she doesn’t have as many photos, she does have a poem to share. Her contribution to the celebration was to write a poem in English for a learner to recite.

Michelle's Poem

Experiencing Heritage Day reminded me about the International Festival that takes place in my hometown, Lorain, OH. Lorain has a diverse population, with people being able to trace their roots back to many countries. As families immigrated into the U.S., they settled in Lorain because there were several, large employers (e.g. steel mill, ship yards, car factory). As a way of celebrating the rich diversity, Lorain holds a festival where people can come together to share their heritage in fellowship. At the festival, one can eat food from Africa, Asia, Europe, and South America while enjoying traditional songs and dances. If you ever have a chance to visit Lorain, I would recommend going during the festival. It takes place during the last weekend of June. You’re sure to have a good time.

Here’s a link the International Festival website if you’d like to read more about it: http://www.loraininternational.com/.

Swearing In

It’s official… Michelle and I are Peace Corps Volunteers! Now, some of you might be wonderful why I’m saying we’re only volunteers just now when we’ve been in South Africa since July. Let me explain.

The first 2-3 months in country volunteers spend time training during what is called “Pre-Service Training” or PST. During PST, volunteers are referred to as “Peace Corps Trainees” or PCTs. PCTs learn the local language, culture, customs, and develop skills pertaining to their project. In our case, we have been learning isiZulu because we are in the KwaZulu Natal province of South Africa where isiZulu is the dominant language. Since Michelle and I are education volunteers, we participated in workshops on topics such as literacy, language acquisition, classroom management, differentiation, and many others. Peace Corps calls these technical sessions. Satisfactory completion of the workshops, in addition to passing an oral language exam and a couple of written exams, means that PCTs qualify to become “Peace Corps Volunteers” or PCVs.

Joe & Michelle Excited to Have Taken the Peace Corps Oath

If you’re already putting two and two together, then you might have already guessed that Michelle and I fulfilled all of the required described above. We completed workshops and passed our exams, which means that we qualified to become official PCVs with the Peace Corps.

It was quite an exciting day to Swear In. It’s called Swear In because all incoming PCVs pledge to serve the U.S., South Africa, and the Peace Corps diligently during their term of service. It was really cool because we raised our right hands, took the oath, which we heard from Michelle’s dad who was in the Air Force the oath was similar to that of the military, and were recognized by the Country Director.

Incoming South Africa 30 Peace Corps Volunteers Taking the Peace Corps Oath

Swear In was a cool rite of passage because it acknowledged the work the incoming volunteers and I had done since we initially applied to join the Peace Corps, including interviews, exams, workshops, practical teaching, and other training. Since Peace Corps’ inception, over 200,000 volunteers have sworn in to serve in more than 170 countries all over the world. We are now part of a network of people, both U.S. Americans and host country nationals, who committed themselves to improving the state of the world. In South Africa, this means we will be helping with education. In the coming months, we will learn about the state of our schools, develop partnerships with fellow teachers, and prepare to go into the classroom. It is an exciting time.

Family Farewell Function

We knew the day would come when it would be time to say good-bye to our host family. They hosted Michelle and I for two months while we completed training with the Peace Corps. When we first arrived, we referred to them as our “host family”, but shortly thereafter we dropped the “host” part of it because they truly became our family. We affectionately called our host-mom “Mama” (and still do).

Joe, Mama, & Michelle

As a way of saying thank you to our family, along with all of the other families that hosted volunteers during Pre-Service Training, Peace Corps, the volunteers, and we coordinated a farewell function that consisted of traditional Zulu attire, dancing, singing, speeches, awarding of certificates, and, of course, food. The families had a wonderful time.

Several of the male volunteers and I surprised our families by wearing traditional Zulu pants to the function. One of the language instructors found a tailor who could make the pants, which was really cool. When I walked out of my bedroom on the morning of the function, Mama was giddy to see me wearing the pants. Mama surprised me in return by getting me a (faux) traditional Zulu shirt (I say faux because the real ones are made using animal skin, which apparently is very expensive). Mama also got Michelle a traditional Zulu shawl, necklace, and headband.

Joe & Michelle in Traditional Zulu Attire

Several local, youth performance groups came to the function to sing, dance, or both. The children were quite talented. Many of them performed a dance called “gida”. Historically, Zulus performed gida before they engaged in battle. It was the equivalent of “puffing up one’s chest”, which was meant to intimidate their opponent. Over time, though, gida evolved to become a dance. Now, gida is a great show of pride for the Zulu culture.

The "Gida" - A Traditional Zulu Dance

Michelle sang a rendition of Here Comes the Sun by The Beatles with a group of volunteers. It was great! Two volunteers within the group translated some of the lyrics into isiZulu so that all who listened could enjoy the song; even if only a small portion.

Rendition of Here Comes the Sun by The Beatles

I was selected by the language instructors to give the speech of appreciation to the families. I was honored to be selected, as well as nervous because the speech was entirely in isiZulu. After a couple of months studying the language, I have learned many words; however, looking at the speech, I saw that there are many more to study. I rehearsed the speech many times; sometimes alone and sometimes in front of the language instructors. The instructors were able to give me feedback, which helped immensely because I got better after each rehearsal.

Joe Giving the Speech of Appreciation in isiZulu

The speech went over very well. I heard from several families that they could understand me. Some of them even commented that they thought I had been speaking isiZulu for much longer than a couple of months (if only!).

The function ended by awarding each family a certificate. They were excited to come up to the stage to be recognized. When Michelle and I spoke with Mama after the function, Mama shared that she was initially afraid to bring strangers into her home. She went on to say, though, that she was glad she did because she loved getting to know us. She soon thought of us as her own children.

Mama, our family, Michelle, and I were sad to see the day come when we had to leave for our permanent site. Many happy memories were made with our family. Michelle and I are excited to say that we’re going to visit them over the summer holidays (Dec-Jan). We look forward to seeing them again.

Mental Health During PST (Pre-Service Training)

---Written on day 62 of PST-----

I wanted to take an opportunity to share more about my experience with mental health during Pre-Service Training (PST). I am sharing this because when I was searching for information, it was difficult to find much out there aside from the blanket Peace Corps messages about “living without the support of western-trained mental health providers.” If you are anything like me, this line tells you NOTHING useful for daily life. First things first…

“Hi, my name is Michelle and I struggle with depression.”

Good. Now that that’s out of the way, let’s talk real talk.

During the Peace Corps application process, I definitely felt that depression and mental health was fairly taboo in the Peace Corps. My reasons were as follows: (A) It was hard to find information about volunteers who have struggled with depression. (B) After disclosing that I have seen a counselor “at any point within the last three years,” I faced (what felt like) a bunch of extra hoops to jump through. Additional forms, counseling visits/evaluations, personal statements on my mental health status, triggers, coping mechanisms… ay bo! It was a process.

(I want to pause and take a deep breath with those of you who are living that frustration now. Breathe…)

Whoo! Even thinking about it now makes my blood pressure rise… BUT! I am so pleased/surprised to report that Peace Corps South Africa has many strategies for supporting volunteers in this country. Plus, they take a “we all need these things sometimes” approach to implementation. We have had sessions on resources, covered many coping strategies, discussed these personally with a member of the medical team, and will have multiple avenues of support (ranging from a peer support network to counseling visits) during a depressive period.

That said, PST definitely provides many potential “challenges” to one’s mental health. The first challenge is the schedule. Training days are very long and zap you of your energy. Your brain is tired from language and policy trainings; your emotions are wonky from safety and diversity sessions; your patience is tested each day…multiply that by 8 hours per day, 6 days per week. Aish!

It is also not surprising to find that the emotions, energy, and needs of 34 unique people are, well…different! One is up when the other is down; the same experience impacts both in different ways. This leads me to the second major challenge: coping with all of this stress when all of your PC friends are dealing with their own stuff… How do you reach out for a hand when we are all on our very own rollercoaster rides?

Add the typical culture shock, distance from loved ones, decreased control over personal schedule/use of time, and loss of some first world conveniences… It is the perfect environment to challenge one’s mental health!

So, for the benefit of other potential volunteers and for the sake of honesty, I would like to share a bit about my experience coping with depression during PST.

First, I will share a bit about my symptoms. Each person’s depression is unique. My depression comes and goes in waves. In the US, I may have anywhere from a few weeks to a year between depressive periods. My triggers are largely related to personal worth, competence, or inconveniencing/burdening others. During PST, I have experienced two minor depressive occurrences. The length of an occurrence is difficult to describe, because there are multiple stages/levels that are passed through. I will say that out of nearly 60 days, there have only been 4 that I have truly felt hindered by my symptoms.

During and immediately after an occurrence, I have found the following tools essential for moving forward:

• Patience with myself. I would like to say that I have handled these stressors with absolute grace…but, that would be a lie. I have been more than frustrated with other volunteers. I have been frustrated with myself. I have acted from that perspective of frustration…and I can make different choices tomorrow. At the end of the day, though, I am the only “me” I have. I am imperfect. I am emotive. And these are things that make me - “me.” I try to remember the components of the "Personal Bill of Rights" (there are several versions out there... they can be fairly cheesy, but good reminders. Google it...)
• Support from loved ones back home and fellow volunteers. I have been blessed with many beautiful relationships that uplift my spirit. The messages I have received from those back home remind me that they will be there for me, no matter where I travel. I have also found caring friendships in several other volunteers. They write me notes when I am sick, check-in when I am being quiet, and offer support in times of need. I need to remind myself to have the humility to reach out.
•  Journaling. This sounds so cliché, but it really does help to get it all out in writing. Seeing it all out on paper helps my triggers to feel more manageable, somehow. I can better identify ways to disrupt the internal dialogue that is unhealthy.
• Letting go. Ish happens. The thing about my depression is that it makes me believe in a false sense of “failure” (like “failure” as an identity). The truth is that, though I may stumble and discover imperfections, I have always overcome the obstacles of my life.  My lesson is to let go of my expectations of my life and, most importantly, of myself.  

Before joining the Peace Corps, I was definitely concerned about maintaining my mental health during service. What if my depression was triggered during service? What if I start to spiral?

For the benefit of others who share this fear, here is my message for you (and a reminder for myself):

• It is okay to struggle with issues of mental health or depression (I think that we all do-the only differences are the degree of impact and the level of honesty about it). It is okay to take the time and energy you need to get through, in whatever that looks like.
• You have already developed successful coping strategies throughout your life. These will likely be the same strategies you will use during your service.
• It helps to hone your self-awareness to identify depressive symptoms early. My strategy is to list 3 caring things (small or big) that I did for others and that were done for me each day. When I cannot think of 3 examples, then I know that my internal dialogue is getting skewed.
• Some volunteers believe that PST is the most difficult period of Peace Corps service. If you can get just through this, a significant part of the battle is over!
• If there does come a day when I truly believe that the best decision for my health would be to go back home, I know that the option is there. I will have been blessed by having lived in South Africa for a short while AND I will make the best decision for me to go home.

**Quick Note to Family and Friends: I am FINE. :-D My mental health is just as fine as it was in the States. It is common for the occurrences to become more frequent during states of great change. There is no need to worry any more than you did before.

If you would like to support me, just keep doing what you normally do. I’ve always loved that about you! Most importantly, don’t act all weird about this post in our next conversations. I do not currently feel any embarrassment about sharing these details. I hope that you don’t either.

Much love (Ngiyanithanda kakhulu),

M