2009--The Year of Change

2009--The Year of Change as my friend, Kim, so describes it. I must say that I whole-heartedly agree. As I think back over the year, it is hard to describe the dream I’m living out

The year, for me, started and ended with death. My friend, Walt, died in early January after a long fight against brain cancer. Despite this, I know we all miss his humor, his compassion, and his gentlemanly ways. I think back over the times we shared from Valentine’s Days with the girls to October fest and arguing about whether or not we should have beer at the party and I think the loss is still felt strongly by our whole group.

And just this week, I learned of my Aunt Patti’s death. Again, cancer is the culprit and although she was 73 years old, she is someone I will miss. When I was home in February for my Aunt Yoli’s 95th birthday, Aunt Patti hosted a dinner at her house. It was so fun—the usual fare with Italian leading the way and plenty of family present. We all laughed and ate and laughed and ate and ate. Her cookies were the hit of the dinner. Although I knew she was tired and that hosting took a lot out of her, I didn’t realize that we wouldn’t have her at the end of this year. She is one person who encouraged my needlework and we shared cross-stitch adventures through the years. I’ll miss her as well.

I’ve been in South Africa now for 5 months. It is hard to believe I have less than 2 years left. I love the village where I live. My host family couldn’t be better. I’m proud to be sharing Christmas with them. People have been arriving now for the better part of two weeks. Kgosi and Mma have 12 kids that are spread out over the country. They consider me to be another of their children so I claim to be the first one. Their oldest is 46 so I just beat her out for the title. There are 7 boys and 5 girls and 2 of them have already passed away. I remember my friend saying once that African families had to have a lot of children because so many of them died young. That turns out to be true unfortunately.

I think I’m a rarity among Peace Corps Volunteers. Most of us keep up with each other via Facebook. I think I’m the only one who is quite happy to stay in my village for the holidays. I know of volunteers who leave their village every weekend to spend it at a hotel in the closest big town. While we each have our own reasons for being in Africa in the Peace Corps, I can’t say that I want my experience to be of hotels on the weekends. I want to experience life as the people here do. I want to make new friends and consider them part of my extended family. We each have our own situations to deal with, but I feel as if I hit the site jackpot when I landed here in Thutlwane. I like living here among the people and I like having them for friends. My principals are great and the teachers have become real friends to me. I don’t usually have much of a reason to even to go Mafikeng. I go generally because Sonja wants to go. It is nice to be there for the day, but I’m pretty happy to get back home at the end of the day.

With respect to change, I do find some situations harder to manage than others. I’ve discovered about myself that some things really make me mad. Many people here have remarked that I’m a happy person. While that is generally true, there are things that I’ve found I just can’t tolerate. Child abuse is something that I just can’t sit back and do nothing about. The constable who is assigned to our schools for the Adopt-A-Cop program knows me well by now. She’s a nice lady and she knows if I’m calling her, it is about a kid who is being beaten or worse by someone in the home. I make sure the family knows that we all know about it (teachers, parents, kgosi, etc.) and that we aren’t going to tolerate it. I also give kids food from the garden if they aren’t getting enough at home. I’ve yelled at teachers who have pinched kids to get them to behave. I remember thinking in training that there were some issues that were just too big to tackle—women drinking, for example. Some volunteers really felt like that infringed on their rights just too much to ignore. Not me, I thought. Now here I find myself fighting against child abuse. So much for noble thoughts!

Other things that I’ve found hard or just miss—intelligent conversations with men of my age with whom there is absolutely no sexual interest or tension or whatever. The gender roles here are so well defined that this is a non-starter. Women have their place and it isn’t for conversation. While I do have occasional conversations with some of the principals (two to be exact), generally the conversation is something along the lines of why I’m a failure because I’m not married with children. I’ve talked to a few of the female teachers about this. They all generally have a child or two because the pressure in the culture to have kids is so strong. Usually by about age 28 if there is no child, then the questions begin about what is wrong with you. The concept of a woman having a choice in the matter is so foreign that I’ve given up trying to explain. And if they are in a relationship and no children result, it is automatically the woman’s fault.

Another thing that I’ve found hard is not being there to support friends and family during tough times. For most of my life, I’ve been able to support people when they needed it and in turn relied on them to support me when I was in need. I find that I really miss not being there when I could be of great value in someone’s time of need. I know, for example, that Katherine thinks that if I come home early it will be because I can’t fix all the child abuse problems. But in fact, if she breaks any more bones, that might send me home early sooner. I found the same feeling to be true when my Aunt Patti died. I wished I could be there to help especially the first few weeks. I remember when my mother died and how I felt as if I were in a funnel and there was only one way to go. It helped a lot to be able to rely on Katherine, Kim, Lisa, and my Aunt Rita to help me get through the weeks that followed.

So as I sit on my stoop outside, the reservoir is filled up with water. The frogs (they come from the ground, not the sky with the rain) are singing their songs. The air is unbelievably fresh and the sky is so clear. I count satellites and look at constellations that are usually blocked by the city lights. We’ve got lots of baby donkeys, cattle, lambs, goats, and whatever roaming our village. I think back to the first time I was in Africa with Connie and my determination to live here someday. Now I’m here and I can’t believe how lucky I am to be doing something I love. Ok, I’m networking computers and all of you know that isn’t something I love or would have chosen, but it is something that we need here. I think back to the past year and all the things that had to happen to make it all possible. Hunter led a great life. Working as an engineer was successful and fulfilling most of the time. Tina had to come into my life at just the right time in HER life. And my lungs had to decide to be happy living in a place where there is a lot of dust and smoke. Not to mention all the support that I’ve gotten from the people I call my pit crew—you know who you all are.

It is hot here as it is summer. There are no Christmas decorations to speak of. The malls don’t have a bunch of things advertising all the things we all need to own. In fact, listening to Christmas carols even felt a bit ridiculous when it wasn’t cold or about buying things. Family is surrounding me and more are coming as I speak. Finding places to sleep for everyone is a challenge, but there is a lot of help to cook and a lot of laughter. I can’t eat a slaughtered sheep (in truth, I’ve found I can’t eat a slaughtered anything that I once fed), but the cole slaw, carrots from the garden, beets, pap, potatoes, squash, and gravy are mouthwatering. I’ve made my own contributions with oatmeal raisin and chocolate chip cookies. I’ll take a big family photo and we will enjoy each other’s company and getting to know each other over the next week. It is Christmas in a way that is very different, but may be closer to the true spirit than other holidays that I’ve celebrated. I hope your holidays are as wonderful as mine and I hope that you are also able to live out your dreams like I am. It seems more important than ever to live the life that you always want