Fabulous Life of a PCV

While still in the midst of the 3 month period that many call lockdown (though we are instructed to call it community integration), there isn’t a whole lot going on for me right now. We aren’t supposed to be officially working, but rather using this time to integrate into our community (hence the name) by meeting with organizations, people, and community groups in order to make contacts and build relationships, but most importantly to build trust so that when we do actually start our own projects, people are receptive and interested in helping and working with us. I agree with and understand the concept…but sometimes I just get a little bored. While many are working with their organizations during this period, my home based care doesn’t have much going on at the moment besides doing their daily door-to-door visits. So unless I go to the field with them, which I don’t love to do because it turns from the caregivers giving important information to the patients about health into the patients asking me tons of questions about who I am, why I’m here, and if I know Beyonce and Zac Effron. Though I’m happy to give this information and clearly want to meet all of the community, I just don’t think this is the best forum. So I try to fill my days with various things…I have my little running club, sometimes I hang out at the crèche (preschool/daycare center for children 2-5 years old), often I do show up at random people’s homes to say ‘what up’ (plus they almost always give me warm tea which is a huge plus), and I have been spending a lot of time writing the Peace Corps mandated Community Needs Assessment. This is actually turning out to be a great tool to help me discover what the community and organizations want and need, while also giving me an excuse to do things I would otherwise be REALLY awkward at (i.e. showing up at random people’s houses to say ‘what up’). Often times I leave with good information, and sometimes I am thoroughly confused because someone will adamantly deliver a piece of information that is completely opposite to the piece of information that another person adamantly delivered to me the day before. Alas, slowly but surely, I’m making progress. And though my organization doesn’t have a lot going on, it makes me very hopeful and optimistic about the future. There are so many basic services that are needed in my village, and though sometimes I feel overwhelmed by the enormity of the need in relation to my minimal experience, resources, or general knowledge, I am excited about the prospects and the potential that I see in my village. Maybe I won’t be able to bring my HBC to the level of efficacy of Amnesty International or World Vision, and I probably won’t eliminate HIV/Aids from my village, but I can help to see that the orphans and vulnerable children get fed each day, or that 10 girls are empowered with the confidence and ability to say no. And for now, I think that is good enough for me.

My definition of a ‘productive day’, however, has undergone a complete makeover, and since I have had the pleasure of being fun-employed for the past almost year (wow did I really graduate an entire year ago???), thankfully I am pretty used to it. Now, I’m happy if I manage to have a successful meeting with even one person during the day (it’s more difficult than you think), or if I get my laundry done, and on really low days I actually consider a full bucket bath (hair washing included) as workout. Yes, I’ve become that girl.

This week my mission was to visit all of the local schools (there are 4 in my village and 1 in the village next to us), to meet with the principles, and to introduce myself to the students. My secret agenda though, is to make sure the children know my name and stop referring to me as ‘Lakuah’ (meaning white person). Despite the fact that Sbongile isn’t really my name, it’s much better in my opinion than being called white person, regardless of the fact that yes I am the only white person around. I didn’t think it would bother me as much as it does, but it does, so I’ve decided to let the youth of the community know that I will no longer respond to whistles, shouts of HEY!!!!!!, or the dreaded Lakuah. I went to the crèche first to commence my mission, because its often the 4 year olds who don’t know (or seem to care) much outside of their toys or the food they are eating at the moment, who often cause the chain of kids and youth screaming “LAKUAH!!!!!” as I walk or run throughout the village. I went to every classroom, and spent 10 minutes explaining (in broken isiNdebele and with the help of the teachers) that my name is Sbongile, not Lakuah. Everything went great and by the end of the day they were all saying ‘bye Sbongile!’. I was ecstatic until I walked by the crèche this morning on my way to the HBC and all of the children that I had spent an entire day instructing, started screaming “HEY LAKUAH!!!!” incessantly until I finally gave in and waved. Damn.

So I guess the grass is always greener on the other side. During training I complained about being exhausted from the long days of information sessions, and now I complain about being bored from a lack of projects to keep me busy with. During summer I constantly complained about the suffocating heat, and now I’m already complaining about the cold. Though I finally decided (in the winter vs. summer debate) that I prefer winter, because it’s better to wake up in warm sweats and drink hot tea and eat a big bowl of oatmeal (even if I do have gloves on while I do it), then to get up at 4 a.m. to take a freezing cold bucket bath because it’s too hot to even sleep. You can always get warmer, but without air-conditioning or a pool, it’s difficult to get cooler. Another advantage to winter: no hornets. Due to the fact that I’ve never been stung by a bee combined with my hypochondriac tendencies, I am convinced that I am fatally allergic to any type of bee and so I resultantly loathe them. Now that I think about it though, winter does bring in the rats. I have yet to see a live one near my digs but other volunteers tell stories about using cyanide to kill them daily. Not sure how I’m gonna cross that bridge when I come to it, but until I do, summer will still prevail.

I’m starting to see why people like blogging, it’s easy to get lost in my own random and completely unrelated thoughts; also nobody in cyber land has to fake interest in them like they might to my face.

Back to what you actually are (or maybe are not) interested in knowing.

Tomorrow I’m off to Pretoria for my monthly fix of cheeseburgers, English speaking, and a shower. I am also going to the PC office to brave the flu shot (never had one before but I’m thinking I would rather pass on the prospect of puking all night in my pit toilet), get some books on gardening (our HBC has a garden but nobody tends to it, so one of my first goals is to learn how to get it up and running) and hopefully find those long lost packages waiting for me. I’m still holding out hope that ones sent 3 months ago weren’t lost but just teasing me.

Here in rural SA there is no trash service (what a change from good old Newport Beach where we don’t even recycle because they do it for us), and so people burn their trash in large amounts weekly. Yesterday, my baby host brother, who is learning to walk quite quickly, got into the ashes and completely covered himself from head to toe with white ash. And if you’re wondering why his right foot isn’t covered, its because he started peeing on himself (which then sprayed on to me) mid photo session. Enjoy.