Last Friday was International AIDS Day and we had a rally to increase HIV/AIDS awareness. The rally was a positive experience for all participants but I found the idea of increasing AIDS awareness ironic. I am surrounded by, almost overwhelmed by my awareness of the pandemic. In the States we ignore AIDS, here I am confronted with it daily.
• My shopping town, Vryheid, is small, comparable to a town in the California’s Central Valley – say Pixley, but it seems to have a funeral parlor, grave stone supplier or mortuary on every block.
• My supervisor is the minister of 4 rural churches; none of them exceed 100 members. He conducts funerals at least twice per month, this weekend alone he had two.
• I went to a meeting at the district Department of Health yesterday. On the wall I noticed a plaque entitled “10 Years of Freedom”. It honored the people who died while serving the Department of Health in the Zululand District in the ten years from 1994 to 2004. There were somewhere between 150 and 200 people listed, perhaps 20 died at an age greater than 50.
• The hospital doesn’t have the luxury of quietly transporting the deceased in camouflaged gurneys like Torrance Memorial Hospital did. I frequently look out my window and see gurneys covered with a white sheet with a red cross accompanied by nurses wearing face masks.
• In the last half kilometer to the taxi rank there are at least 5 HIV/AIDS related billboards.
• I walk through the wards of the hospital and see men who are mainly bones huddled on their beds.
• I don’t like to ask kids about their parents, the answer often is no parents.
When we go town on business we go in the hospital vehicles with hospital drivers. The driver and Susan, my wife, were talking about TV shows. The driver asked Susan, “Why don’t your (American) shows ever talk about AIDS?”
Tuesday, December 05, 2006
Saturday, October 28, 2006
Saturday Stroll with Zebras
We went for a walk on Saturday in our shopping town, Vryheid. The jacarandas are losing their blossoms but they are still glorious. Somehow the jacarandas seem more purple here than in LA.
Vryheid is a prosperous agricultural Afrikaaner community of about 30,000. Susan is admiring the landscaping in this upscale neighborhood. Turning the corner from this bit of suburbia we return to Africa.
Vryheid was the site of some major action in the Anglo-Boer Wars. The city set aside the area of the battles as a park and now as a nature preserve. Susan is on the road leading to the nature preserve. The hill you see is very steep and about 500 to 700 feet altitude gain from this point. There is a road through thick forest to the top. At the top is a plateau with grassland.
The forest going up the hill is filled with birds and clearings with wild flowers. Unfortunately I am not an expert birdwatcher and so have not done a good job of taking pictures of birds. This is a picture of a weaver-bird nest. The nest is delicately constructed, hangs from a branch with an entrance at the bottom.
Taking a photograph is an acceptable excuse for stopping to catch ones breath so more road pictures. We spent 3 hours on this hike and were the only people in the nature preserve.
Then you turn down slope to a large grassland plateau with animals. Here we have the Africa of the American imagination but you can still see Vryheid two km away. South Africa is a very complex country.
There are zebras, eland and other assorted antelope. They watch you carefully and run when you get within about 30 yards.
Saturday, October 21, 2006
Pictures from the Women's Conference
The first weekend as Peace Corps Volunteers at site the church affiliated with our hospital had a women's conference. Churchladies from all parts of Zululand came in their Sunday finery. This lady is wearing a traditional Zulu woman's hat. It is completely covered with detailed geometric designs in delicate beadwork.
The women sang and danced for the better part of three hours. More stamina than I could muster.
Susan very bravely volunteered to judge the basket decoration contest. Here are the entries.
Here are the winners
Pictures of Training Farewells
I am able to get some fast internet today so I will add some pictures to the blog.
This is a the walk to our training site on a typical day. The local high school was next to the training site so we walked along with all the local teenagers.
At the end of our training our homestay family threw a braai (barbeque) in our honor. This is a picture of the "Pink Palace", our home stay residence on the day of the braai, party goers are milling about.
This is another picture of people at the braai. These are members of our homestay family.
Susan helping prepare some of the braai fixin's.
A meal is not a meal without a helping of ipalishi = pap = corn meal mush = grits. Here it is prepared over an open fire in a 3 gallon traditional 3-legged pot. (Usually seen in the USA in cartoons with a missionary being prepared as stew)
This is a picture taken at the farewell party the Peace Corps Trainees gave to honor our homestay families. The lady seated is our homestay mother and the man on the left is the oldest of our homestay brothers.
We had traditional dancers at the farewell party.
Saturday, October 14, 2006
Random Thoughts
Who is this blog written for?
If some items in these pages seem odd, I am writing for three audiences. First friends and relatives, I am trying to stay connected. Second, people who think they might become South African Peace Corps Volunteers trying to find out what the real PC is like; this is paying back for the blogs I read while preparing for serving. Finally, I am writing for myself; weeks go by so quickly (and days sometimes so slowly) I want a way to capture my responses to this African life.
White Magic:
Mr. Zulu drives the khumbi (15+ passenger van / jitney) that serves as our area’s sole transport. He leaves at 6:30-ish for Vryheid and returns at 3:30-ish. Mr. Zulu is very traditional, is related in some fashion to the Zulu king, and speaks very little English. He is a very nice man. We saw him on Friday and with much hand signaling, our poor isiZulu and some body language (generally acting like a crazy umlungu (white guy)) let him know we wanted to take his khumbi to town the next morning. That Saturday when we went to get the khumbi he greeted us warmly and insisted we take the two front seats beside him. After he started driving he began to fumble through some papers and retrieved 3 lotto forms and asked Susan aka Nonhlanhla (means good fortune in isiZulu) to pick numbers. Crazy, umlungu and “good fortune” a perfect trifecta – sure to win big.
Besides isiZulu we need to learn English
I didn’t realize I had a problem with English until coming here. A biscuit is actually a cookie and a scone is a biscuit, as in “I’d like an Oreo biscuit and a scone with ham gravy”. Robots are traffic lights, as in “Turn left at the second robot” or “The robot is turning red”. Paraffin is kerosene, as in “Fill the camp stove with paraffin.” Geyser (pronounced GEE-zer) is a hot water heater as in “The old geyser doesn’t get hot anymore”. Stiffie is a USB thumb drive. Bakkie (pronounce more or less BUG-gy) is a personal motor vehicle, generally referring to a fairly beat up small pickup truck coated with mud and a fine sheen of road dust.
I love the SA usage of “this side”, “that side”. I don’t know if the usage is universal in SA but it certainly is used here in KZN. Seemingly every person, thing, place or concept is associated with a side. The usage provides a wonderful level of ambiguity, as in “He’s over that side today”. This might mean is in the next room, next door, down the road, over the hill, across the country, in the United States or around the world.
Getting plugged in
Electricity is a problem. No not the problem that out here the power goes out with every good storm – that problem could be fixed. No the deepest problem with the electrical grid is the electrical plug. South Africa has a power plug found no where else. The plug is roughly the size and shape of Tyrannosaurus Rex’s fore-paws. It has three round prongs each about a quarter of inch diameter and a little over an inch long.. So far no problem, a little unwieldy perhaps– a 6 outlet power strip is the size of a small aircraft carrier – the problem is that even South Africans don’t use it. About half the electrical appliances use the European plug with two small round prongs and virtually all electronic gadgets use the European plug – this includes items manufactured in SA for South Africa. This means that nearly every electrical outlet needs an SA to European adapter (and of course the Crazy American needs a American flat prong to European round prong adapter to go into the European to SA adapter).
The amazing fact is that the adapters don’t work. Get to work in the morning and plug your laptop into the American-to-European adapter, then plug the American-to-European adapter into the European-to-SA adapter then plug the whole mess into the wall and NOTHING happens. This is when the fun starts. The trick is to jiggle the various plugs for five or ten minutes until you hear a crackle, see a satisfying arc of sparks, feel a small jolt of electricity in your fingers, perhaps see the overhead lights dim; this means you’ve found a connection. If you move anything you lose the connection and you must start jiggling all over again.
I suppose this is a pretty petty rant – some PCV’s and lots of South Africans don’t have electricity at all but I was frustrated this week when I bought an extension cord. When I tried to use it the first time it didn’t work. How can one sell an extension cord that doesn’t work? So many cultural adjustments.
Birdwatching for Dummies
Birds in South Africa are amazing. I sit at my window and each day I see new varieties. It helps that I am a naïve American so that even the commonest of birds look and sound exotic. I suppose that my excitement can sound odd to a South African like raving over sighting a pigeon or sparrow might sound to an American. The sights and sounds of these beautiful birds warm my spirit.
The Yearly Cycle
This year has been very confusing for us. We have had 2 winters , 2 springs and parts of 2 summers and no fall at all. We are now in South African spring-time which seems to sprinkle in a few days of summer now and again. The mountains are turning green with the increased rainfall and are filling with wild flowers. Jacarandas are native to South Africa and are in full spectacular flower. Somehow the jacarandas seem to have a deeper, more intense purple here than in LA.
If some items in these pages seem odd, I am writing for three audiences. First friends and relatives, I am trying to stay connected. Second, people who think they might become South African Peace Corps Volunteers trying to find out what the real PC is like; this is paying back for the blogs I read while preparing for serving. Finally, I am writing for myself; weeks go by so quickly (and days sometimes so slowly) I want a way to capture my responses to this African life.
White Magic:
Mr. Zulu drives the khumbi (15+ passenger van / jitney) that serves as our area’s sole transport. He leaves at 6:30-ish for Vryheid and returns at 3:30-ish. Mr. Zulu is very traditional, is related in some fashion to the Zulu king, and speaks very little English. He is a very nice man. We saw him on Friday and with much hand signaling, our poor isiZulu and some body language (generally acting like a crazy umlungu (white guy)) let him know we wanted to take his khumbi to town the next morning. That Saturday when we went to get the khumbi he greeted us warmly and insisted we take the two front seats beside him. After he started driving he began to fumble through some papers and retrieved 3 lotto forms and asked Susan aka Nonhlanhla (means good fortune in isiZulu) to pick numbers. Crazy, umlungu and “good fortune” a perfect trifecta – sure to win big.
Besides isiZulu we need to learn English
I didn’t realize I had a problem with English until coming here. A biscuit is actually a cookie and a scone is a biscuit, as in “I’d like an Oreo biscuit and a scone with ham gravy”. Robots are traffic lights, as in “Turn left at the second robot” or “The robot is turning red”. Paraffin is kerosene, as in “Fill the camp stove with paraffin.” Geyser (pronounced GEE-zer) is a hot water heater as in “The old geyser doesn’t get hot anymore”. Stiffie is a USB thumb drive. Bakkie (pronounce more or less BUG-gy) is a personal motor vehicle, generally referring to a fairly beat up small pickup truck coated with mud and a fine sheen of road dust.
I love the SA usage of “this side”, “that side”. I don’t know if the usage is universal in SA but it certainly is used here in KZN. Seemingly every person, thing, place or concept is associated with a side. The usage provides a wonderful level of ambiguity, as in “He’s over that side today”. This might mean is in the next room, next door, down the road, over the hill, across the country, in the United States or around the world.
Getting plugged in
Electricity is a problem. No not the problem that out here the power goes out with every good storm – that problem could be fixed. No the deepest problem with the electrical grid is the electrical plug. South Africa has a power plug found no where else. The plug is roughly the size and shape of Tyrannosaurus Rex’s fore-paws. It has three round prongs each about a quarter of inch diameter and a little over an inch long.. So far no problem, a little unwieldy perhaps– a 6 outlet power strip is the size of a small aircraft carrier – the problem is that even South Africans don’t use it. About half the electrical appliances use the European plug with two small round prongs and virtually all electronic gadgets use the European plug – this includes items manufactured in SA for South Africa. This means that nearly every electrical outlet needs an SA to European adapter (and of course the Crazy American needs a American flat prong to European round prong adapter to go into the European to SA adapter).
The amazing fact is that the adapters don’t work. Get to work in the morning and plug your laptop into the American-to-European adapter, then plug the American-to-European adapter into the European-to-SA adapter then plug the whole mess into the wall and NOTHING happens. This is when the fun starts. The trick is to jiggle the various plugs for five or ten minutes until you hear a crackle, see a satisfying arc of sparks, feel a small jolt of electricity in your fingers, perhaps see the overhead lights dim; this means you’ve found a connection. If you move anything you lose the connection and you must start jiggling all over again.
I suppose this is a pretty petty rant – some PCV’s and lots of South Africans don’t have electricity at all but I was frustrated this week when I bought an extension cord. When I tried to use it the first time it didn’t work. How can one sell an extension cord that doesn’t work? So many cultural adjustments.
Birdwatching for Dummies
Birds in South Africa are amazing. I sit at my window and each day I see new varieties. It helps that I am a naïve American so that even the commonest of birds look and sound exotic. I suppose that my excitement can sound odd to a South African like raving over sighting a pigeon or sparrow might sound to an American. The sights and sounds of these beautiful birds warm my spirit.
The Yearly Cycle
This year has been very confusing for us. We have had 2 winters , 2 springs and parts of 2 summers and no fall at all. We are now in South African spring-time which seems to sprinkle in a few days of summer now and again. The mountains are turning green with the increased rainfall and are filling with wild flowers. Jacarandas are native to South Africa and are in full spectacular flower. Somehow the jacarandas seem to have a deeper, more intense purple here than in LA.
Tuesday, September 26, 2006
Volunteers at last
Susan and I were sworn in as Peace Corps Volunteers on September 21st. We are now official PCVs, proud members of SA15 (the 15th PC cohort in to South Africa). We are situated at our work site for the next two years. The time period from my last blog update to date has been busy. We went to the city of Rustenberg to meet our supervisor, traveled to our work for orientation, visited with a current PCV (from SA14), returned to the training site, had more training, had a going away party with our homestay families, had the swearing-in ceremony, and of course had a couple of braais in the meantime (South Africans seems to look for any excuse to have a braai (celebratory barbeque)).
The supervisor’s meeting in Rustenberg was a welcome if jarring change from the village life at our training site. South Africa is a land of contrasts. After waking in our village to a bucket bath, pit toilet and cautiously boiled water, we arrive at a resort in Rustenberg and are greeted with cream scones and our first cup of brewed coffee in South Africa. The resort was a welcome respite – beautiful grounds, plentiful and delicious meals, hot showers, dependable electricity, and flush toilets. I missed the early morning nature walk but those who made it reported seeing zebra and wildebeest. It was hard for my mind to adjust from village life in early 20th century to 21st century resort living.
From Rustenberg in Northwest province we traveled to our site in KwaZulu-Natal. Our site is a hospital on a mountain ridge. The hospital is surrounded by forest. Our accommodation is a one-room flat adjoining the hospital administration office.
The hospital is small – current census is 92, there is a maximum capacity of 110 but they try to keep at least 10 beds available for emergencies. The hospital was originally build as a TB sanitarium, but now serves as an AIDS hospice, TB treatment center, and emergency care facility for the local area. There is one doctor at the hospital for two days per week and one pharmacist for two days a week. The area is very remote and very rural. The local village has about 10 houses and a tuck shop (the rural South African version of 7-11). The area does not have electricity and water is an occasional event. On the other hand our accommodations are plush – electricity, flush toilets, indoor water, and hot showers – South Africa is a place of jarring contrasts.
Our living area is a one room flat adjoining the hospital administration office, we have a kitchen area, shower and bathroom in what was once a hallway in the administration area. The site is beautiful, at supper time we sit at our dining table and look out at sunset across a broad valley with rough rock formations and cliffs. The Zulu king, Shaka, was reported to have tossed his enemies off these cliffs as a expedient means of gaining concensus in the 1800’s. Being on the hospital grounds, there is a staff of gardeners which maintains the lawn and flowers in our backyard. The back yard is small, but is at the end of the ridge top – there is a steep drop of several hundred meters at the end of our yard. The mountainside is home to lots of birds – all beautiful and exotic to Californians.
After visiting our work site, meeting our supervisor and seeing our assignments, returning to training seemed difficult. The last two weeks of training were informative but there was a sense of impatience and anxiety hanging over all the sessions. Our homestay family held a braai in our honor with our language class, all the language trainers, and lots of neighbors/relatives. Braai’s are wonderful feast – grilled beef, chicken and wors (Afrikaans for wurst = sausage), stew, salads, veggies, and mountains of pap (corn meal mush). The meat is grilled over the embers of branches brought in from the local woods. The branches are cut (broken) long so that the ember end can be under the meat but the branch is still on fire further up. As the ember end dies out the branch is inserted further bringing fresh embers into the broiling area. The result is a very smokey tasting meal.
In final weekend of training all the trainees went to a mall in Pretoria to buy household goods for “settling-in” into our new homes. Shopping day was Susan’s and my anniversary so we spent more time having a celebratory multi-course “Continental” lunch than shopping. The mall in Pretoria was barely distinguishable from Del Amo mall in Torrance, another jarring moment in South Africa – awakened with roosters and goats then off to the mall.
Leah, our Assistant PC Country Director i.e. the boss for NGO’s, had a closing ritual for our final class. She had us write down all our unfulfilled Peace Corps expectations on a piece of paper, and then one by one had us set a match to them and burn them. Then she gave out flowers made of wire and beads, and pieces of paper shaped like petals. We wrote new plans for our two years here and placed them as petals on the wire flowers. We went outside and formed a circle; one by one we said one of our new expectations and planted our flower.
We spent the night before swearing-in at the same rondovaals we stayed in when we first arrived in country. When we arrived we thought the rondovaals were quaint and primitive. By the end of training we looked forward to a night there with the luxury of electricity, flush toilets and hot showers. I suppose that’s what the training was all about.
The swearing-in was held at a resort near our training village and just outside the border of a nature preserve. The ceremony touched me more than I expected. I was proud to have made it through training (even if my Zulu is less that comprehensible), sorry to say good-bye to my fellow trainees and eager to get on with my new life. Like much of Peace Corps – a wild mix of emotions.
I am writing this on Tuesday. Swearing-in was on Thursday, Friday was spent shopping in Vryheid for groceries, household goods and an Internet data card for my PC—we are now connected (sort of). We have intermittent GPRS service at our site, I’m really not complaining – its amazing to have any Internet access when our nearest grocery store is 80 km away.
Saturday and Sunday were spent in Nongoma at church women’s conference that our supervisor was attending. The women at the meeting were dressed in a spectacular array of finery: traditional Zulu dress, “pinafores” (matching head-scarf, apron and full skirted dress, and the occasions modern dress. One session consisted of 4 hours of singing, dancing and marching up to the altar to give offerings – non-stop. These little old ladies have stamina.
Monday was a South African holiday so Susan and I hiked around the area to get our bearings. There is a former tea plantation about 6 to 8 km from us. For reasons not clear to me the plantation ceased operations though there are still people living in the plantation housing.
Today we finally started work. I have a job, my title is Operations Manager. I am not real sure what that entails, but I think it means I am now the assistant hospital administrator. Today I started sorting through human resource processes, procedures and forms, trying to assemble a workable set of HR procedures for the hospital.
The supervisor’s meeting in Rustenberg was a welcome if jarring change from the village life at our training site. South Africa is a land of contrasts. After waking in our village to a bucket bath, pit toilet and cautiously boiled water, we arrive at a resort in Rustenberg and are greeted with cream scones and our first cup of brewed coffee in South Africa. The resort was a welcome respite – beautiful grounds, plentiful and delicious meals, hot showers, dependable electricity, and flush toilets. I missed the early morning nature walk but those who made it reported seeing zebra and wildebeest. It was hard for my mind to adjust from village life in early 20th century to 21st century resort living.
From Rustenberg in Northwest province we traveled to our site in KwaZulu-Natal. Our site is a hospital on a mountain ridge. The hospital is surrounded by forest. Our accommodation is a one-room flat adjoining the hospital administration office.
The hospital is small – current census is 92, there is a maximum capacity of 110 but they try to keep at least 10 beds available for emergencies. The hospital was originally build as a TB sanitarium, but now serves as an AIDS hospice, TB treatment center, and emergency care facility for the local area. There is one doctor at the hospital for two days per week and one pharmacist for two days a week. The area is very remote and very rural. The local village has about 10 houses and a tuck shop (the rural South African version of 7-11). The area does not have electricity and water is an occasional event. On the other hand our accommodations are plush – electricity, flush toilets, indoor water, and hot showers – South Africa is a place of jarring contrasts.
Our living area is a one room flat adjoining the hospital administration office, we have a kitchen area, shower and bathroom in what was once a hallway in the administration area. The site is beautiful, at supper time we sit at our dining table and look out at sunset across a broad valley with rough rock formations and cliffs. The Zulu king, Shaka, was reported to have tossed his enemies off these cliffs as a expedient means of gaining concensus in the 1800’s. Being on the hospital grounds, there is a staff of gardeners which maintains the lawn and flowers in our backyard. The back yard is small, but is at the end of the ridge top – there is a steep drop of several hundred meters at the end of our yard. The mountainside is home to lots of birds – all beautiful and exotic to Californians.
After visiting our work site, meeting our supervisor and seeing our assignments, returning to training seemed difficult. The last two weeks of training were informative but there was a sense of impatience and anxiety hanging over all the sessions. Our homestay family held a braai in our honor with our language class, all the language trainers, and lots of neighbors/relatives. Braai’s are wonderful feast – grilled beef, chicken and wors (Afrikaans for wurst = sausage), stew, salads, veggies, and mountains of pap (corn meal mush). The meat is grilled over the embers of branches brought in from the local woods. The branches are cut (broken) long so that the ember end can be under the meat but the branch is still on fire further up. As the ember end dies out the branch is inserted further bringing fresh embers into the broiling area. The result is a very smokey tasting meal.
In final weekend of training all the trainees went to a mall in Pretoria to buy household goods for “settling-in” into our new homes. Shopping day was Susan’s and my anniversary so we spent more time having a celebratory multi-course “Continental” lunch than shopping. The mall in Pretoria was barely distinguishable from Del Amo mall in Torrance, another jarring moment in South Africa – awakened with roosters and goats then off to the mall.
Leah, our Assistant PC Country Director i.e. the boss for NGO’s, had a closing ritual for our final class. She had us write down all our unfulfilled Peace Corps expectations on a piece of paper, and then one by one had us set a match to them and burn them. Then she gave out flowers made of wire and beads, and pieces of paper shaped like petals. We wrote new plans for our two years here and placed them as petals on the wire flowers. We went outside and formed a circle; one by one we said one of our new expectations and planted our flower.
We spent the night before swearing-in at the same rondovaals we stayed in when we first arrived in country. When we arrived we thought the rondovaals were quaint and primitive. By the end of training we looked forward to a night there with the luxury of electricity, flush toilets and hot showers. I suppose that’s what the training was all about.
The swearing-in was held at a resort near our training village and just outside the border of a nature preserve. The ceremony touched me more than I expected. I was proud to have made it through training (even if my Zulu is less that comprehensible), sorry to say good-bye to my fellow trainees and eager to get on with my new life. Like much of Peace Corps – a wild mix of emotions.
I am writing this on Tuesday. Swearing-in was on Thursday, Friday was spent shopping in Vryheid for groceries, household goods and an Internet data card for my PC—we are now connected (sort of). We have intermittent GPRS service at our site, I’m really not complaining – its amazing to have any Internet access when our nearest grocery store is 80 km away.
Saturday and Sunday were spent in Nongoma at church women’s conference that our supervisor was attending. The women at the meeting were dressed in a spectacular array of finery: traditional Zulu dress, “pinafores” (matching head-scarf, apron and full skirted dress, and the occasions modern dress. One session consisted of 4 hours of singing, dancing and marching up to the altar to give offerings – non-stop. These little old ladies have stamina.
Monday was a South African holiday so Susan and I hiked around the area to get our bearings. There is a former tea plantation about 6 to 8 km from us. For reasons not clear to me the plantation ceased operations though there are still people living in the plantation housing.
Today we finally started work. I have a job, my title is Operations Manager. I am not real sure what that entails, but I think it means I am now the assistant hospital administrator. Today I started sorting through human resource processes, procedures and forms, trying to assemble a workable set of HR procedures for the hospital.
Monday, August 28, 2006
Life as a Trainee
I am writing this entry on August 7 and will post it when I get to a fast enough Internet café.
We arrived in Johannesburg in the evening of July 27th after a long 17 hour flight. I was hoping to catch a glimpse of Dakar on our one hour layover there but we arrived at dawn and there was fog so I didn’t see anything.. We were met at the Johannesburg airport by the Peace Corps Country Director and hustled off into 2 busses. We then drove off to a former teacher training center about 3 hours away. On arrival at the center we were greeted by the language trainers and staff ululating and dancing, our first clue we might not be in Palos Verdes. We were assigned rooms, Susan and I shared a rondoval (a South African round one room building with a conical roof) further confirming we have definitely left California. After stowing our bags in the rondoval, we had a dinner of chicken and pap (the South African staple – corn meal porridge, like grits). On leaving the meal we found the language trainers by the brae (barbeque pit) singing South African songs and spirituals in an amazing four part harmony.
The next morning we awoke to the African sunrise, the red of daybreak highlighting the silhouette of the rocky hills and plane trees. On the half mile ride to the area where our classes are held we spotted wildebeests. The class area had monkeys roaming the grounds and baboons in the rocks on the hill above the dining area. The Peace Corps really did provide a great introduction to South Africa.
We spent a week at the rondovals. The rondovals provide a first step in breaking us into South African life. The rondovals have hot showers and flush toilets that work most of the time. We received the first two series of immunizations, had classes in South African history of the last 100 years, some cultural sensitivity training and some health and security classes. We had “survival language” training to learn greetings and important phrases, e.g. “Where is the bathroom?” in four of South Africa’s languages. Emotional highpoints of the week included a stirring speech by the Minister of Education for the Province of Mpumalanga, describing the recent history of the area and the struggles of education following apartheid. Our politicians could take lessons in rhetoric from him. One night while standing about after dinner and after watching a video about Soweto the trainers taught us songs sung during the struggle against apartheid. This week was the last time all 80 Peace Corps Trainees (PCTs) would be together until swearing in as PC Volunteers (PCVs) in September. At the end of the week NGO PCTs and Education PCTs went to different villages for training.
Skipping forward in time – I am now writing this on August 19th. We have been able to get to the local internet café but it is so slow, I don’t even want to try to upload to blogspot there.
The training site is in a village a couple of hours out of Pretoria near the town of Dennilton. The village is fairly large with a population of about 1000 I would guess. The town is predominantly Ndebele speakers but that is closely related to the Zulu Susan and I are learning. We are living with a woman and her 19 year old son. She has 3 other unmarried sons who work in Pretoria but live here most weekends. We have a large bedroom separated from the main house. Our bedroom and the house are nicely furnished. We have electricity. The light works; the wall socket is a little dodgy but good enough to keep the laptop charged. Our bedroom has ceramic tile floors and a comfy bed. The family has a refrigerator, electric range and satellite TV. We’re not really roughing it.
The past three weeks have been a blur of stimuli. The first weekend we were here boys of the village came down the mountain from there initiation. In Ndebele tradition, teen age boys go into the mountains and are circumcised. They then spend two months in the mountain learning Ndebele lore. The initiation rituals only occur every four or five years so the return of the initiates provides quite a spectacle for the village. The boys (now men officially) march down from the hillside into town in Ndebele dress, beads, headdress, spear and shields (and occasionally Nike running shoes). These new men chant and sing in a fierce manner as they double-time through the towns streets. The activity then moves to the homes of the initiates. Each of the parents have created a small enclosure for the boys at their home since they are not supposed to talk to anyone for this two day long celebration, they may however do a lot of singing, chanting and dancing. After the boys are situated it’s time to slaughter the cow. The Ndebele like meat. Killing and dismantling the cow make for a big if somewhat gory party. The party continues throughout the night—the village resounds with drums and chants all night long. The next day brings the feast. At the feast the men sit on chairs on one side of the yard, elder women in traditional headdress and carrying wooden wands sit on the other side, younger women sit behind on the ground. A lengthy gift presentation ensues, with each gift and gift giver honored. Blessings are bestowed upon the initiates. Much “European” beer and traditional sorghum homebrew are consumed by the men. The rest of the day and the night are again filled with chants, drums and dancing.
The second weekend here we had a traditional Ndebele wedding down the street a couple of houses. Traditional weddings are three days long. On Friday we were walking home from training when the bride came home. Our street is a narrow one lane dirt road with numerous potholes. The bride arrives in a convoy of four cars. The arrival is spectacular; five minutes of demolition derby. The four cars go back and forth over a half block stretch, spinning at each end, dust flying everywhere. After the neighborhood is fully aware of the arrival, the bride makes here entrance. She is wrapped in two blankets; the inner blanket is a brightly colored Ndebele robe barely visible only at her ankles. The outer blanket is secured with dozens of safety pins and covers her from head to toe. The bride cannot be seen until the wedding. Since her head is totally covered she cannot see and walks guided by another woman. The walk from the car to the house proceeds at a snail pace since the bride cannot see. There are four cows festively tied with ropes at street side, presumably part of the lobola (bride price). Another cow moans miserably in the front yard – she is to be guest of honor at Sundays feast.
The Peace Corps training program for NGO Capacity Builders (us) is very interesting. We have a couple of hours of Zulu, three or four times a week and three or four hours learning about South African culture every week. Four or five hours each day is spent learning about HIV/AIDS and NGO operations.
As part of the culture study we visited a sangoma (traditional healer). Traditional healers play a large role in much of South Africa. The sangoma deals in herbal medicines (muthi) and the spirit world. We walked to the home of one of the village sangomas. She lived in a compound of 4 or 5 buildings. Her “office” was a rondoval decorated with ceremonial cloths, drums, wands and jars and jars of muthi). For the small sum the Peace Corps paid for the “consult” the sangoma showed us her “bones”, the collection of shells, rocks, bones, dice, dominoes and whatever, that the sangoma uses to diagnose her patients. Actually “throwing” the bones and performing the diagnoses would cost more. The sangoma spent almost an hour talking with us. She described her activities and said there were illnesses she treated and others that she referred to either other sangomas or to clinics and Western medicine. She understood the symptoms of AIDS and said those patients were sent to the clinic.
The second major component of our pre-service training (PST in Peace Corp-speak) is target language speech. Our target language is Zulu. Zulu has a number of challenges for the learner. The language wraps a subject pronoun , object pronoun, the occasional preposition, verb and some nice sounding connective tissue into one exceedingly long word. There are 8 (or perhaps 17 depending on how you count) noun classes which behave somewhat like the three genders do in French or German that is they all have declension rules and provide class specific connectors needed to construct the aforementioned megawords. The third challenge is that the language makes much more use of the muscles in the tongue than English. There are 3 basic clicks, “c”, “q” and “x”, which vary in tongue placement at the start of the click, “c” tongue tipis closest to the teeth, “x” the tip is furthest back. Basic vowel sounds(including clicks) can be enhance by “h” (aspirated) or “n” (nasal). So there exists combinations like nhl a nasal aspirated “l” which sound is something like trying to spray spit out of the side of your mouth while having a cold. My new mother christened me Nhlanhle and Susan, Nonhlanhle which roughly translates as “Lucky”(male) and “Lucky”(female), Our pronunciation while introducing ourselves using our Zulu names invariably brought forth gales of laughter. Fortunately when our new elder brother returned home he decided that husband and wife sharing the Nhlanhle moniker was inappropriate (its usually shared by twins) so I now have a name I can say without making people laugh, Sipho (pronounced see-poe) meaning “gift”. Susan still provides comic relief for our language class when Nonhlanhle introduces herself.
Jumping forward in time again, I am writing this on August 27. I hope to get this uploaded soon.. We were at an Internet café today that had a reasonable dial-up connection, and I brought a thumb-drive with this file and a file with Susan’s blog update. Unfortunately I had forgotten my userid at blogger.com so Susan’s was updated but not mine.
This week marked our one month anniversary with the Peace Corp – half way through PST. More importantly we received our site assignments on Friday. Until now we have had no idea of what we would do or where we would live. The past week has been one of increasing tension as the release of site assignments drew near. Friday morning when we arrived at the training facility we found we were locked out, with Leah , the APCD (PC speak forAssistant Peace Corps Country Director – my boss), inside making final preparations. We waited outside for 30 minutes in the rain nervously trading rumors. Finally, Leah steps outside and says “It’s my day to be mean” and gives instructions on how the assignments will be announced. The announcements are to be made with drama. Inside the training room, each chair has a small package with a trainee’s name attached. Leah passes around homemade cookies and a box with small pieces of paper. We each take one piece of paper on it is a number. People get there assignments in the order given by the small piece of paper (Susan and I were number 28 – an eternity of waiting). The front of the room is a map of South Africa with green cards taped on. One at a time people go to the front of the room, open their package which contains a fortune cookie. Two papers are inside the fortune cookie, one is the regular fortune, the second is a number. After reading their fortune, the number inside is announced, it corresponds to a green card. Leah cuts the green card- unveiling the trainee’s photo and the name and location of the assignment. Trainee excitement and applause follow.
Our assignment is at a hospital in the mountains in KwaZulu-Natal (KZN, spoken Kay-Zed-En). It is a former TB sanitarium, but is now a hospital serving the region and is run by a Christian organization. The area is isolated but is said to be beautiful. There is a game preserve nearby, that has rhinos, wildebeests, crocodiles, alligators, lots of birds, lots of varieties of antelopes. The nearest town of note is Vryheid (pronounced fry-height). We haven’t gotten much detail on our jobs or accommodations. Next week we get to meet our new supervisors and then visit the site. Susan will be working with hospital administration, and I will be helping with their home care program.
We arrived in Johannesburg in the evening of July 27th after a long 17 hour flight. I was hoping to catch a glimpse of Dakar on our one hour layover there but we arrived at dawn and there was fog so I didn’t see anything.. We were met at the Johannesburg airport by the Peace Corps Country Director and hustled off into 2 busses. We then drove off to a former teacher training center about 3 hours away. On arrival at the center we were greeted by the language trainers and staff ululating and dancing, our first clue we might not be in Palos Verdes. We were assigned rooms, Susan and I shared a rondoval (a South African round one room building with a conical roof) further confirming we have definitely left California. After stowing our bags in the rondoval, we had a dinner of chicken and pap (the South African staple – corn meal porridge, like grits). On leaving the meal we found the language trainers by the brae (barbeque pit) singing South African songs and spirituals in an amazing four part harmony.
The next morning we awoke to the African sunrise, the red of daybreak highlighting the silhouette of the rocky hills and plane trees. On the half mile ride to the area where our classes are held we spotted wildebeests. The class area had monkeys roaming the grounds and baboons in the rocks on the hill above the dining area. The Peace Corps really did provide a great introduction to South Africa.
We spent a week at the rondovals. The rondovals provide a first step in breaking us into South African life. The rondovals have hot showers and flush toilets that work most of the time. We received the first two series of immunizations, had classes in South African history of the last 100 years, some cultural sensitivity training and some health and security classes. We had “survival language” training to learn greetings and important phrases, e.g. “Where is the bathroom?” in four of South Africa’s languages. Emotional highpoints of the week included a stirring speech by the Minister of Education for the Province of Mpumalanga, describing the recent history of the area and the struggles of education following apartheid. Our politicians could take lessons in rhetoric from him. One night while standing about after dinner and after watching a video about Soweto the trainers taught us songs sung during the struggle against apartheid. This week was the last time all 80 Peace Corps Trainees (PCTs) would be together until swearing in as PC Volunteers (PCVs) in September. At the end of the week NGO PCTs and Education PCTs went to different villages for training.
Skipping forward in time – I am now writing this on August 19th. We have been able to get to the local internet café but it is so slow, I don’t even want to try to upload to blogspot there.
The training site is in a village a couple of hours out of Pretoria near the town of Dennilton. The village is fairly large with a population of about 1000 I would guess. The town is predominantly Ndebele speakers but that is closely related to the Zulu Susan and I are learning. We are living with a woman and her 19 year old son. She has 3 other unmarried sons who work in Pretoria but live here most weekends. We have a large bedroom separated from the main house. Our bedroom and the house are nicely furnished. We have electricity. The light works; the wall socket is a little dodgy but good enough to keep the laptop charged. Our bedroom has ceramic tile floors and a comfy bed. The family has a refrigerator, electric range and satellite TV. We’re not really roughing it.
The past three weeks have been a blur of stimuli. The first weekend we were here boys of the village came down the mountain from there initiation. In Ndebele tradition, teen age boys go into the mountains and are circumcised. They then spend two months in the mountain learning Ndebele lore. The initiation rituals only occur every four or five years so the return of the initiates provides quite a spectacle for the village. The boys (now men officially) march down from the hillside into town in Ndebele dress, beads, headdress, spear and shields (and occasionally Nike running shoes). These new men chant and sing in a fierce manner as they double-time through the towns streets. The activity then moves to the homes of the initiates. Each of the parents have created a small enclosure for the boys at their home since they are not supposed to talk to anyone for this two day long celebration, they may however do a lot of singing, chanting and dancing. After the boys are situated it’s time to slaughter the cow. The Ndebele like meat. Killing and dismantling the cow make for a big if somewhat gory party. The party continues throughout the night—the village resounds with drums and chants all night long. The next day brings the feast. At the feast the men sit on chairs on one side of the yard, elder women in traditional headdress and carrying wooden wands sit on the other side, younger women sit behind on the ground. A lengthy gift presentation ensues, with each gift and gift giver honored. Blessings are bestowed upon the initiates. Much “European” beer and traditional sorghum homebrew are consumed by the men. The rest of the day and the night are again filled with chants, drums and dancing.
The second weekend here we had a traditional Ndebele wedding down the street a couple of houses. Traditional weddings are three days long. On Friday we were walking home from training when the bride came home. Our street is a narrow one lane dirt road with numerous potholes. The bride arrives in a convoy of four cars. The arrival is spectacular; five minutes of demolition derby. The four cars go back and forth over a half block stretch, spinning at each end, dust flying everywhere. After the neighborhood is fully aware of the arrival, the bride makes here entrance. She is wrapped in two blankets; the inner blanket is a brightly colored Ndebele robe barely visible only at her ankles. The outer blanket is secured with dozens of safety pins and covers her from head to toe. The bride cannot be seen until the wedding. Since her head is totally covered she cannot see and walks guided by another woman. The walk from the car to the house proceeds at a snail pace since the bride cannot see. There are four cows festively tied with ropes at street side, presumably part of the lobola (bride price). Another cow moans miserably in the front yard – she is to be guest of honor at Sundays feast.
The Peace Corps training program for NGO Capacity Builders (us) is very interesting. We have a couple of hours of Zulu, three or four times a week and three or four hours learning about South African culture every week. Four or five hours each day is spent learning about HIV/AIDS and NGO operations.
As part of the culture study we visited a sangoma (traditional healer). Traditional healers play a large role in much of South Africa. The sangoma deals in herbal medicines (muthi) and the spirit world. We walked to the home of one of the village sangomas. She lived in a compound of 4 or 5 buildings. Her “office” was a rondoval decorated with ceremonial cloths, drums, wands and jars and jars of muthi). For the small sum the Peace Corps paid for the “consult” the sangoma showed us her “bones”, the collection of shells, rocks, bones, dice, dominoes and whatever, that the sangoma uses to diagnose her patients. Actually “throwing” the bones and performing the diagnoses would cost more. The sangoma spent almost an hour talking with us. She described her activities and said there were illnesses she treated and others that she referred to either other sangomas or to clinics and Western medicine. She understood the symptoms of AIDS and said those patients were sent to the clinic.
The second major component of our pre-service training (PST in Peace Corp-speak) is target language speech. Our target language is Zulu. Zulu has a number of challenges for the learner. The language wraps a subject pronoun , object pronoun, the occasional preposition, verb and some nice sounding connective tissue into one exceedingly long word. There are 8 (or perhaps 17 depending on how you count) noun classes which behave somewhat like the three genders do in French or German that is they all have declension rules and provide class specific connectors needed to construct the aforementioned megawords. The third challenge is that the language makes much more use of the muscles in the tongue than English. There are 3 basic clicks, “c”, “q” and “x”, which vary in tongue placement at the start of the click, “c” tongue tipis closest to the teeth, “x” the tip is furthest back. Basic vowel sounds(including clicks) can be enhance by “h” (aspirated) or “n” (nasal). So there exists combinations like nhl a nasal aspirated “l” which sound is something like trying to spray spit out of the side of your mouth while having a cold. My new mother christened me Nhlanhle and Susan, Nonhlanhle which roughly translates as “Lucky”(male) and “Lucky”(female), Our pronunciation while introducing ourselves using our Zulu names invariably brought forth gales of laughter. Fortunately when our new elder brother returned home he decided that husband and wife sharing the Nhlanhle moniker was inappropriate (its usually shared by twins) so I now have a name I can say without making people laugh, Sipho (pronounced see-poe) meaning “gift”. Susan still provides comic relief for our language class when Nonhlanhle introduces herself.
Jumping forward in time again, I am writing this on August 27. I hope to get this uploaded soon.. We were at an Internet café today that had a reasonable dial-up connection, and I brought a thumb-drive with this file and a file with Susan’s blog update. Unfortunately I had forgotten my userid at blogger.com so Susan’s was updated but not mine.
This week marked our one month anniversary with the Peace Corp – half way through PST. More importantly we received our site assignments on Friday. Until now we have had no idea of what we would do or where we would live. The past week has been one of increasing tension as the release of site assignments drew near. Friday morning when we arrived at the training facility we found we were locked out, with Leah , the APCD (PC speak forAssistant Peace Corps Country Director – my boss), inside making final preparations. We waited outside for 30 minutes in the rain nervously trading rumors. Finally, Leah steps outside and says “It’s my day to be mean” and gives instructions on how the assignments will be announced. The announcements are to be made with drama. Inside the training room, each chair has a small package with a trainee’s name attached. Leah passes around homemade cookies and a box with small pieces of paper. We each take one piece of paper on it is a number. People get there assignments in the order given by the small piece of paper (Susan and I were number 28 – an eternity of waiting). The front of the room is a map of South Africa with green cards taped on. One at a time people go to the front of the room, open their package which contains a fortune cookie. Two papers are inside the fortune cookie, one is the regular fortune, the second is a number. After reading their fortune, the number inside is announced, it corresponds to a green card. Leah cuts the green card- unveiling the trainee’s photo and the name and location of the assignment. Trainee excitement and applause follow.
Our assignment is at a hospital in the mountains in KwaZulu-Natal (KZN, spoken Kay-Zed-En). It is a former TB sanitarium, but is now a hospital serving the region and is run by a Christian organization. The area is isolated but is said to be beautiful. There is a game preserve nearby, that has rhinos, wildebeests, crocodiles, alligators, lots of birds, lots of varieties of antelopes. The nearest town of note is Vryheid (pronounced fry-height). We haven’t gotten much detail on our jobs or accommodations. Next week we get to meet our new supervisors and then visit the site. Susan will be working with hospital administration, and I will be helping with their home care program.
Tuesday, July 25, 2006
In the Peace Corps in Philadelphia
We are now in the Peace Corps; we are officially PCTs (Peace Corps Trainees). Today was registration day spent getting paperwork in order and beginning orientation learning the objectives and values of the Peace Corps. There are 82 trainees headed for South Africa; 36 slated for NGO Capacity Building (like us) and another 46 who will work in Education. The group is mainly under thirty with a scattering of old folks like Susan and me (or I should say old folks like me). There are 5 married couples. The hotel is really filled with Peace Corps as there are also trainees for Mali having their orientation here too. At noon today the lobby looked like the lost luggage office at LAX, with all the incoming PCTs’ maxed out bags stacked about.
The weekend was another nice interlude prior to leaving the country. We visited with an old friend on Saturday night and saw our son Erik on Sunday. We had time to do some sightseeing in Philadelphia. We are in the Historic District, with Independence Hall, Liberty Bell, Ben Franklin and on and on. The area has parks with large old trees. We went on a tour of Independence Hall; the guide was a very dynamic presenter who stated with passion the significance and import of the Declaration of Independence and the Constitution. All in all Philadelphia has provided a good sendoff for our trip to South Africa.
I was impressed with the trainees. They are bright, earnest and passionate. We spent most of our orientation activities working in small groups. The people in my groups very clearly articulated their goals, anxieties and aspirations. We talked with openness and supportiveness not usually found with new acquaintances. The day has been a real motivator.
Tomorrow morning we go for immunizations and then continue with orientation activities. The following day we leave for South Africa. Updates to this blog may be slow or none-existent for the next two months while we are in training. We have been repeatedly warned we will not have Internet or cell phone access during training.
The weekend was another nice interlude prior to leaving the country. We visited with an old friend on Saturday night and saw our son Erik on Sunday. We had time to do some sightseeing in Philadelphia. We are in the Historic District, with Independence Hall, Liberty Bell, Ben Franklin and on and on. The area has parks with large old trees. We went on a tour of Independence Hall; the guide was a very dynamic presenter who stated with passion the significance and import of the Declaration of Independence and the Constitution. All in all Philadelphia has provided a good sendoff for our trip to South Africa.
I was impressed with the trainees. They are bright, earnest and passionate. We spent most of our orientation activities working in small groups. The people in my groups very clearly articulated their goals, anxieties and aspirations. We talked with openness and supportiveness not usually found with new acquaintances. The day has been a real motivator.
Tomorrow morning we go for immunizations and then continue with orientation activities. The following day we leave for South Africa. Updates to this blog may be slow or none-existent for the next two months while we are in training. We have been repeatedly warned we will not have Internet or cell phone access during training.
Thursday, July 20, 2006
The Adventure Begins
Susan, my wife, and I are beginning our South African Adventure. We have dreamed for many years about using our time and experience in a creative manner. We are now about one week from actually flying to South Africa. When there we will become "NGO Capacity Builders" with the Peace Corps. NGO means Non-Governmental Organization, in particular organizations helping to solve South Africa's HIV/AIDS problems. As a capacity builder we will use our experience to assist some NGO. We won't know exactly what we will be doing for several weeks. Our first goal is to complete training to learn the language and customs of our new home.
I am currently sitting in Kailua, Hawaii, listening to someone practicing the ukelele next door. We moved out of our house in California last week. The prior few weeks were spent disposing the trash accumulated over twenty-some years. It is educational to have a garage sale for all your worldly treasures and they can't be sold for even one buck a pop. Our furniture is now in storage or disposed of with our son. Our available possessions are reduced to 4 pieces of luggage and 4 boxes being mailed to our new address. This reduction of possessions is both terrifying and liberating. In general it is a relief to not worry about things but occasionally the worry strikes -- what did I forget? Right now when this happens I go outside and bask in the luscious air of Oahu.
This week in Hawaii has been a great stress reliever. The height of stress is walking a half block to the beach and finding an adequately shady spot to place our beach towels on. It does provide the time to start this blog.
We have been working toward this for a long time. I submitted my application to the Peace Corps two years ago, my wife submitted hers months before that. Shortly after we submitted our applications we had our interview. We said we wanted to go to a Pacific or Caribbean island (preferably one with nice beaches) and work in a health field. Our interviewer was polite and did not laugh in our face. He did say he did not have any current opportunities in that area but that we should be flexible and he would call us as appropriate positions became available. He did follow through and offered us a number of opportunities to teach math, science, English in Central America, Asia and Europe. I cannot teach and saved my potential students a lot of grief by declining those offer.
Finally we were offered positions in health work in Africa in June 2005. I guess I thought Africa was near to some Pacific island, since we agreed. At that point we became Peace Corps Nominees. As a nominee we submitted paperwork affirming we were not running away from our debtors or our family, nor running from the law. The biggest task of the nominee is to get medically/dentally cleared. The Peace Corps requires fairly thorough physical and dental exams. I thought once submitted no one would look at the results -- not so. The Peace Corps' medical staff goes through each item and goes back to the nominee to get every question clarified. After passing those hurdles we became an Invitee in December 2005 and learned the country and job title of the position. The position offered was to work in Health extending in rural Uganda. We were thrilled, the need was compelling and Uganda inviting. However, after talking with the Africa desk it became clear that we could not have the level of communication needed we need to have to deal with our family and the people taking care of our home and finances. My wife and I were sorely disappointed when we refused that invitation and afraid we would never get another invitation.
In March 2006 we got the invitation for South Africa as an NGO Capacity Builder for HIV/AIDS. While not really close to the Pacific Islands and not likely to have a balmy beach and not exactly a health position, we were thrilled. The more I read about South Africa the more I want to go. The problems in South Africa are great but the possibilities of that country are even greater. I want to see the land and meet the people.
On Friday we fly to Philadelphia where we will get oriented to the Peace Corps, receive some immunizations and then go to New York to fly to Johannesburg.
I am currently sitting in Kailua, Hawaii, listening to someone practicing the ukelele next door. We moved out of our house in California last week. The prior few weeks were spent disposing the trash accumulated over twenty-some years. It is educational to have a garage sale for all your worldly treasures and they can't be sold for even one buck a pop. Our furniture is now in storage or disposed of with our son. Our available possessions are reduced to 4 pieces of luggage and 4 boxes being mailed to our new address. This reduction of possessions is both terrifying and liberating. In general it is a relief to not worry about things but occasionally the worry strikes -- what did I forget? Right now when this happens I go outside and bask in the luscious air of Oahu.
This week in Hawaii has been a great stress reliever. The height of stress is walking a half block to the beach and finding an adequately shady spot to place our beach towels on. It does provide the time to start this blog.
We have been working toward this for a long time. I submitted my application to the Peace Corps two years ago, my wife submitted hers months before that. Shortly after we submitted our applications we had our interview. We said we wanted to go to a Pacific or Caribbean island (preferably one with nice beaches) and work in a health field. Our interviewer was polite and did not laugh in our face. He did say he did not have any current opportunities in that area but that we should be flexible and he would call us as appropriate positions became available. He did follow through and offered us a number of opportunities to teach math, science, English in Central America, Asia and Europe. I cannot teach and saved my potential students a lot of grief by declining those offer.
Finally we were offered positions in health work in Africa in June 2005. I guess I thought Africa was near to some Pacific island, since we agreed. At that point we became Peace Corps Nominees. As a nominee we submitted paperwork affirming we were not running away from our debtors or our family, nor running from the law. The biggest task of the nominee is to get medically/dentally cleared. The Peace Corps requires fairly thorough physical and dental exams. I thought once submitted no one would look at the results -- not so. The Peace Corps' medical staff goes through each item and goes back to the nominee to get every question clarified. After passing those hurdles we became an Invitee in December 2005 and learned the country and job title of the position. The position offered was to work in Health extending in rural Uganda. We were thrilled, the need was compelling and Uganda inviting. However, after talking with the Africa desk it became clear that we could not have the level of communication needed we need to have to deal with our family and the people taking care of our home and finances. My wife and I were sorely disappointed when we refused that invitation and afraid we would never get another invitation.
In March 2006 we got the invitation for South Africa as an NGO Capacity Builder for HIV/AIDS. While not really close to the Pacific Islands and not likely to have a balmy beach and not exactly a health position, we were thrilled. The more I read about South Africa the more I want to go. The problems in South Africa are great but the possibilities of that country are even greater. I want to see the land and meet the people.
On Friday we fly to Philadelphia where we will get oriented to the Peace Corps, receive some immunizations and then go to New York to fly to Johannesburg.
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