I never thought I would have to.....

Give THE TALK, you know, the sex talk to a dog, but I did! It seems like it's come a little too late though. But before I go any longer, I need to jog your memory a bit, so you know who I'm talking about. Do you remember that cute little face I welcomed into the family a few months ago, Aisha, My Setswana 2 Setswana Sister's dog? Yeah, her! The 9 month old little girl that was so sweet, cute, and full of energy. I guess all of those characteristics that made her so much fun to be around, also made her fun to be around other dogs as well. It turns out that, while at a mandatory Peace Corps meeting, Charlene's co-workers didn't always keep such a close eye on little Miss Aisha. Seems that she (Aisha) didn't know how to handle herself like a lady during her first time in heat. Seems like little Miss Aisha has fallen in the family way...or like they say in Setwana: Aisha o mo mmeleng!

Well, during a recent visit, I had to give her...THE TALK...more like an on-going conversation. I told Aisha that, in America, being un-wed mother doesn't necessarily present her in the best light...socially (the unfair and unfortunate burden of being female). I know that she is proudly South African, so she doesn't exactly work on the American system even though her mother is proud to be an American. I asked her if she had considered the high incidence of HIV in her community and country. Of course, she didn't. I told her to condomize or consider getting herself fixed. I told her that she might find that her friends will distance themselves from her, because the things they had in common may not be there any more...they will have different foci. She will undoubtedly have to get a job to support her litter. I asked her if she had informed the father...she was a bit tight lipped and had a confused look on her face when I asked for his name.

Aisha new of my background with Planned Parenthood and public health. She knew that if she needed to ask questions, she could always come to me. I try to maintain an open door policy with all of my two and four-legged friends. I know that sometimes it is difficult for the younger generation to come and talk about sex with older people, but I'd like think that I'm a cool aunt...open, accessible, non-judgemental.

Now that the deed is done, and all we can do at this point is wait, her mother and I, and the entire Setswana 2 Setswana crew will provide a strong support system for her to utilize in her time of need...ish! Aisha!

Top 10 things to do over a 5-day weekend....

1. Complete my 1st and 2nd Quarterly Reports for Peace Corps (already late...shame).
2. Catch up on sleep.
3. Visit friends
4. (Hand) wash that pile of clothes that keeps staring at me.
5. Go to the mall
6. Have a braai (BBQ)
7. File and buff my nails
8. Watch all of those DVDs my loving family and friends have sent
9. Get over this cold I have just developed
10. Make all of those overly involved recipes that I keep ticking off while looking through the Betty Crocker cookbook during my free time.

What's the deal with boy bands?

I really don't understand this boy band thing! Now I have been guilty
of bopping my head to the latest popular tune that happens to be
playing on my car radio as I'm driving to or from work/school (ahhh...the
good ole days when I had a car!). I've never actively sought out that
type of music. Never bought it. Never researched online for news about
the band. Never attempted to go to a concert or hang up a poster on my
wall. I'm sure that we all (secretly) have our favorite song or group,
whatever the case may be...but I think some South Africans are taking
it a little too far.

For some reason or another, I thought that I would escape the pre-fab
song/hair/boy/wall poster/etc. that I had to suffer through since the
days of New Kids on the Block by joining up with Peace Corps South
Africa. I thought I'd be learning about a new culture through new
sights and sounds...things I've never heard before. Why is it then
that, earlier this week, as I was riding on a late-night taxi, did I
have to suffer from one taxi driver's attempt to be (what he thought
was) cool...one of those car-sized flattv monitors playing nothing but
back-to-back music videos of the Backstreet Boys. Additionally, if I
stay out in one of the various locations (townships) surrounding my
local community, why can I hear boy band songs being blasted throughout
the neighborhood at all hours of the day, particularly between the
hours of 8pm and 7am. Little did I know that finding something in
common with my local counterparts would be as simple as reciting the
lyrics to the song "I want it that way. Tell me why, ain'tnothin' but a heart ache...."

As is often said in South Africa, "Agh, Shame man!"

So is this what a proud mom feels like?

As you may recall, a few months ago (how time flies), I conducted a 5-day "Advanced" HIV training course for a varied audience (in terms of home organization; ethnicity; language; etc.). In preparing for the program, I:

• Took a mini- needs assessment of some of the VCT (HIV Voluntary Counselling and Testing) counselors in my organization. I was surprised to find out that many people, regardless of the fact that they were VCT counselors, did not have a strong grasp on HIV and related issues. I guess that's why I put the "advanced" part in quotations. It really was basic information.

• Took into consideration what my boss wanted participants to know: ARVs; Opportunistic Infections; STIs (STDs for the old school); reproductive health issues; HIV and AIDS statistics; and discrimination and stigma issues.
  

• Took into account my learning style and how my experiences as a student have either helped me to understand (or not) the information presented to me. Doing a little research on best practices for adult learning didn't hurt either.
  

• Considered the type of training South Africans typically deal with...particularly the type of learning style used and encouraged at my organization...lecture/memorization...I wanted to make the program as interactive as possible...without eliciting the response, "not another group activity!"
  

Well, if you have been following along with my blog, you would know that the course turned out to be a great success. Many of the fears that I had about facilitating the course ( language barriers, cultural differences, how do you keep people engaged on one topic for five days from 8 am to 4 pm, will people participate, etc.) were elevated. I was surprised to find that people actively participated in each exercise like I've never seen many of them do before. I say this because, in many of the trainings I've observed at my organization, participants can be seen holding unrelated side conversations, falling asleep, and in general...just looking bored. People asked questions and truly seemed to take control of their own learning, which is something I hope to encourage amongst volunteers and staff members alike.

Ok, I totally gave you way more background information than I thought I would. So, anyway, my organization is currently hosting a 13-week counseling course. Unfortunately, I've been unable to participate very much in the course because I'm working on several other projects (not to mention...but I will...the trip with my mother). At first, I was feeling kind of bad for the counselors-in-training, because the same out of date teaching methods were going to be used. I guess I'm not a big fan of it, because that's not how I learn best (always thinking of myself...shame!), and that clearly, counselors are lacking a real understanding of HIV and AIDS. (They know what the words are and can spit them out with the best of them, but they don't truly understand the subject and rarely have the opportunity to engage it.) Well (I use "well" a lot, I've noticed), last week I was finally able to sit in a few classes, and boy was I in for a surprise. Some of the facilitators of the course (who also attended my training) were actually using more interactive teaching methods...many of which I used in the program I facilitated. The whole time I was sitting there, I just smiled at how something I did really made an impression on people enough for them to re-think their training methods. Of course I cannot take much credit for the techniques that I used (I had to get them from somewhere), but it felt good to pass the information along...or to help in the capacity building process...that's a Peace Corps term. I guess this is the first time since I've been here that I really feel like I'm accomplishing something.

As a treat to myself, I'm going to bask in the glow of small accomplishments...but not for too long, because so much more work needs to be done!

Still longing for the days with my mother....ahhhhh

As I'm sitting here at my desk, attempting to prepare all of the details for the launch of the new mobile Voluntary Testing and Counselling (VCT) unit next weekend, the Pisces in me can't help but to day dream about the fabulously, devine time that I spent with my mother. A time when, for a few weeks, I was allowed to live the life of a regular American tourist, doing touristy things, eating great food, sleeping in late, having the ability to determine my schedule, not having to explain anything to anyone (about if my hair is real...natural...or store bought...chemically altered...am I bi-racial, etc, my nationality, my skin color, if I really chose to have my glasses look that way, why I dress the way I do, why I can't seem to get over the gag reflex everytime I eat pap or come close to mogodu, etc.), and most important of all SPENDING TIME WITH MY MOTHER.

So as I day dream, or rather "reflect" (my father's favorite word...ok...let me tell you a little story that is TOTALLY off the subject, but since I'm reminiscing, let's just go there. When I was a little girl, my family would often take short road trips to as far as Florida. My brother and I would often get out of control making tents in the back seat with blankets or fighting about who had too much space on the middle arm rest. In order to get us to be quite, my father would often tell us to reflect (on events of the past or on whatever else that would get us to shut up). So, at a very early age, I learned how to reflect, which brings us to the present moment.) As I reflect, these are some of the images that are conjured up....

Enjoy!

A Dung Beetle doing guess what...rolling elephant dung

Atop Table Mountain...taking pictures of other people climbing

Cape Point (Not really the most southern point of Africa)
10 points if you know where the real southern most point is

Just about the exact point where the "table cloth" forms over Table Mountain

My mother (somewhere) and the Kototsi Family

Tall times 2 in Botswana

Part of Victoria Falls in Black and White
(my attempt at being creative)

I guess this speaks for itself, right?

Around the (Southern Africa) World in less than 40 Days...

Phinda- View from our Chalet

Hanging out with the Mitchelson Clan

Mom at work

D & D were here!- Cape Town 2007

Elephants playing around in Botswana

Me, Mom, Mike, and Tattoo

View of Victoria Falls from the Vic Falls Hotel

"The Smoke that Thunders- Victoria Falls"

My mother and I are back in our respective places of residence after traveling around Southern Africa for the past three weeks or so! I cannot believe that time went by so quickly. I guess that just speaks to the fact that my mother and I are best friends (sorry Jeb...you know I love you!) and we always seem to have so much fun together! It was so comforting to be around someone who needs no explanation for my mood swings around 12:00 noon. She just knows that the time has come for my mid-day feeding. I know that I can wake up early in the morning and have a full-on conversation about what my dog back home is doing at that particular time. You see, people in my local community have yet to pick up on those quirky habits, but it's only been six months in, so there's still time!

So, do you wanna hear about what we did? Like to hear it, here it goes:

Bring Your Mother To Work Day

My mother arrived in South Africa, and immediately came to visit me at site (my community). One of the things she said was a "priority" during her trip was to see where I lived and worked. Since she came to visit my job on a Friday, there was not much going on, as most of our counseling activities take place earlier in the week. She was, however, able to meet a few of my co-workers, see my "office", and view some of the remnants of the Advanced HIV training that I facilitated a few weeks before.

Later on that day, we unknowingly attended a surprise belated-birthday party for me, which was thrown by some of my friends. I was totally caught off guard when I walked into my friend’s house and everyone was singing and there were cakes and juice and lots of smiling people! I am loved! I think this also made my mother more comfortable with "allowing" her "baby" to stay in a strange country, knowing that I am cared for in my new home!

First Stop: Botswana Setswana

After leaving my site, my mother and headed out to Botswana to go on the first of two game drives. We stayed in a fabulously intimate game lodge located just outside the gates of Chobe National Park. As soon as we arrived at the lodge, we were met by one of the lodge managers, who ran down the list of do's and don'ts, which included instructions on when to eat, where to eat, when to be ready for game drives, and where we were to place dirty clothes. If you want you clothes washed only, put them in the bag. If you wanted them ironed too, place them in the basket. If you place your shoes in the basket, they will be ironed too...and oh, they don't wash "small items" (ie. undies). After each comment, our host would snap his fingers as if he was ordering a drink at the bar (I do not know which bar, but for lack of a better description). I told my mom that I felt like I was at summer camp! One day we made the mistake of taking too long to get to dinner. A night watchman was sent to our room to collect us. When we arrived to the communal table, where everyone eats together, our chairs were turned up to mark our absence. We surely learned our lesson! Trust, we were on time for every meal after that!

On the first day, we took it easy and lounged around our chalet, because we had a prime view of the game park. Elephants and other wild animals could be seen making their evening trip to the Chobe River for a drink and a dip. The next few days were all about meeting other guests from around the world (Hi Vee and Eric from San Diego, thanks for the snacks!), going on game drives, viewing Elephants, elephants, and more elephants, and catching up with each other.

NOTE: As I spent plenty of time at the lodge bar (drinking water and sprite of course), I tried to practice my Setswana (the language primarily used in my local community), just to find out that I've been taught how to be a lazy Tswana speaker! If you wanna learn true Setswana, go to Botswana or anywhere other than where I am!

Zimbabwe, where an afternoon meal can cost you $576,983 Zim Dollars

Well, I'll refrain from engaging too much into the political discourse that is currently swirling around Zimbabwe, but I will say that my first indication that something was not right occurred as soon as my mother an I stepped off the plane to get our entry visas. We were immediately told that visas must be paid in US currency as Zim dollars were not accepted as a form of payment. They do not accept their own currency, because it is virtually not worth anything. You might as well use it as wallpaper, although I know some wallpaper that is incredibly more expensive.

As soon as we left the airport, I was not exactly sure of what I was prepared to see, because the country is currently experiencing major political problems and 3 out of 4 people are out of work. Well, I must say that Victoria Falls has created a great illusion for foreigners wanting to reclaim their colonial past and forget about all of their troubles (and don't want to be bothered by anyone else's). I'm still trying to figure out what my "colonial past" is..... None the less, we stayed at the beautiful Victoria Falls Hotel, with its perfect view of the "smoke that thunders" or better known as Victoria Falls.

The first day, we went on an elephant back safari...basically, we rode around in a big circle for an hour riding on the back of an elephant. It was a very interesting experience, as for the first thirty minutes, I was so "sea sick" that I could not really enjoy the ride. Once I got over that, I was amazed at the power of these animals! She (Tattoo was her name) was able to carry three people on her back with ease. Tattoo was like a tree cutter and riding lawn mower all at the same time. At every possible moment, she was either ripping off a tree branch or clearing bushes and cutting grass just to stuff it in her mouth and move on to the next plant.

Victoria Falls! AMAZING! You can see the falls from miles (kilometers away). Standing near it was like being in a heavy rain shower. Luckily, the tour guide brought ponchos, because otherwise he would have been treated to a wet t-shirt contest (FYI...white shirts should never be worn near water...I guess I didn't go to enough "college weeks" in Miami or Daytona...)

Durban and Phina...oh my!

Of course, one of the "essential" stops on my mother’s Southern African tour was to visit my friends in Durban. Due to the fact that I'd been trying to get my family to come out to visit them for years, and my friends have eagerly been waiting, they weren't too interested in seeing me at all.

If you are ever interested in going on a luxurious game drive...GO TO PHINDA (CCAfrica )...You will not be disappointed. My mother and I were treated to a chalet all to ourselves with the most amazing views and potential for animal encounters. In the back of our "house", we had our own personal plunging pool from which animals regularly took drinks. The service was great and everyone that we met was so very hospitable!

Cape Town

I must say that, while on this entire trip, it was easy to forget that I was a Peace Corps Volunteer, because I definitely was not staying anywhere that a PC budget could afford. This was particularly the case whilst in Cape Town. We did the obligatory Robbin Island and Table Mountain tour. On the second day, we were treated to a day-long tour with a guide who clearly used his time with us to gripe and complain about how he as an Afrikaners has been displaced within the new government. Maybe I'm not sensitive enough, particularly to this guy, who tried to get my mother and me (as African Americans) to relate to his feelings of disenfranchisement....not a chance in the hell I've read about, nor any other one...well, as I was told in a former life...negativity won't take up (much of) my space today (literally in this blog and in my mind).

The rest of the days were amazing. My mother knew a few people who were in town for the Cape Town Jazz Festival, which was equally cool being around all of that musical energy. The rest of the days were spent giving my wardrobe a much needed boost at our local Victoria and Alfred Waterfront Mall. Additionally, I was treated to a day at the spa(aaaaah)! THANKS MOM!!!!!!!!!!

As you can see, this blog isn't my best effort, mostly because there's so much to say and I'm bogged down with work at this very moment (as soon as I got back to work, I hit the ground running).

In summary, (I promise I learned that this is not the best way to end a report), I had the best time with my mother. She truly brought a much-needed breath of fresh air into my life. We had wonderful conversations. She made me laugh. She allowed me to forget about everything in my life that may or may not have caused me stress! Mom, it was so difficult to let you go. I missed you even while you were with me. My friend asked me if I was going to cry at the airport...I said that I wouldn't...and I didn't...but that's only because I know that the separation is only temporary and that the rest of my family will be coming during the festive season.

THANK YOU MOMMY FOR MAKING THIS SUCH A WONDERFUL TRIP!

Advanced HIV and AIDS Training Course

Whew, the judgement in the air is thick! My mother is even receiving complaints from her friends telling me that I need to stop slacking off. I know, I know, it's been well over a month since I've last updated my blog...but I have a good reason though (Can you feel the excuses coming?)! For the past couple of weeks, I've been very busy with Peace Corps stuff and planning for a 5-day Advanced HIV and AIDS Training Course, which I am facilitating, for my organization.

For the program, my boss requested that I address the human immune system; STIs; behavior change theory; ARVs; reproductive health; and any other topic I could think of. My first step in planning this program, was to conduct an informal needs assessment, as many of the participants in the course would be VCT (voluntary testing and counseling) counselors. I asked questions like: "What does a macrophage do?"; "What is Kaposi's Sarcoma?"; "Could you take a detailed sexual history of a client without feeling uncomfortable, even if your client is an elder?"; "How does HIV attack the human immune system?"; etc. In conducting this assessment, I found that many counselors were very unfamiliar with the signs and symptoms of the most common STIs, they were unfamiliar with the common opportunistic infections, and that they did not really understand how the human immune system and HIV work. Don't get me wrong, counselors are generally good at what they do, but I think the problem was how they were taught to learn and how they were taught the information...it was really a comment about the South African education system.

In South Africa, you have the teacher who has "all" of the information and the learner (South African for student) who is the sponge. In many South African classes (both historically and currently) teachers and students have learned the to memorize and regurgitate information for homework and tests...and then the information is lost. Subjects are not typically engaged and challenged. Students don't question teachers for fear of: looking "stupid", upsetting the teacher, standing out, etc. The various learning styles present in the classroom are not taken into consideration (tactile, auditory, visual, experiential) ****This is where I give a BIG shout out to the many teachers in my life who took this into consideration, particularly those at the PAIDEIA SCHOOL!!!!****

Well, enough of my social commentary, the American school system has its issues too!

So I took the information garnered from the needs assessment, information I picked up from reading about adult learning theory, my learning styles, my desire to pretend that I'm creative, etc. to identify topics to address and ways to address it. Additionally, I took the "boredom factor" into account. Who would want to sit in a class room from 9am to 4pm just looking at my (pretty) face?! (You won't answer that question if you know what's good for you! Except if you are saying that you'd rather do that than sleep and eat!) I wanted there to be a variety of topics so that it wouldn't feel like a 10th grade American history class. I wanted enough "alone time" so that group members wouldn't get sick of each other. I wanted enough group activities so there would be an exchange of ideas. I wanted participants to feel responsible for truly learning and engaging the topics that we'd be discussing. I randomly asked people to facilitate discussions. On the first day I posted questions around the room. I gave space so that participants could answer the questions, and told them that, as they go through the week and see incorrect information on the sheets, correct it.

So here's what happened:

• Statistics were dicussed on how HIV and AIDS are affected the entire population (black, white, colored, Indian, etc) of South Africa. The roles of gender, poverty, stigma and discrimination, access to resources, race/ethnicity were covered. As much as it seems like a "black disease", its really a human disease (hence the "H" in HIV).

• A skit was developed where people acted out the various components of the immune system. Elayna and I developed props for each character. Scripts were designed so that participants could read what the immune system was doing at that particular time (instucting the Macrophage to look through her goggles and find infected cells or pathogens, use her big teeth to eat them and brush them away with her broom).

• Based on the understanding of how each cell works in the immune system, a skit was developed to show how HIV works to attack the Helpper T-cell. This skit helped them to understand what a viral load test and a CD4 test were really looking for. One participant said, a few hours later, that after this exercise, the information that she knew "clicked". It gave her the opportunity to put together the pieces of the whole HIV puzzle.

• Opportunistic infections and the 4 stages of HIV infection were covered. I got people to personalize how someone with an OI might feel, and how this might impact their adherence to ARVs, willingness to disclose their status, and stigma.

• STIs and their impact and association with HIV transmission.

• I used a really cool activity to get people thinking about behaviors that may or may not put them at risk of infection. I broke participants up into groups and had them identify behaviors on a continum (unsure to high risk) that might put someone at risk for infection of HIV and other STIs. Groups were then asked to place their behaviors on note cards and place them on the continum, where they thought they should be. The larger group debated each group's placement decision. It helped people to understand how difficult it might be for the lay person to identify risk-taking behaviors. Participants also learned that some of the behaviors had to be contextualized. For example: deep kissing or "French kissing". Ordinarily, that behavior is not such a big deal in terms of risk, but what happens if someone has an open wound in or on their mouth (dissiminated infection, HSV1 or HSV2 chancre sore, etc.). Some behaviors that were brought up in the behavior cards were "poverty" or "homosexuality". This caused for a good discussion and a GREAT lead up to my full day of discussing stigma and discrimination. Homosexuality in and of itself is not a "high risk behavior". It brought up that groups of people are often associated with diseases, thus leading to stigma and discrimination, so instead of focusing on the group, focus on the behavior and target that.

• I found a GREAT curriculum produced by EngenderHealth, about addressing stigma and discrimination in the health care setting. The activity mentioned above can also be found in this curriculum, although I've done it in my former life without the curriculum. I would highly recommend this one!

• My friend, Setswana 2 Setswana Sister, and fellow PCV, Liz came up from Childline to conduct a presentation on HIV and AIDS and their impact on children. She did a great job! THANK YOU LIZ!!!!!!!
  

Just as we were about to start the 3rd day, my boss comes in and announces the possible Taxi strike that might take place on Thursday and Friday. Because the majority of group participants use taxis, we had to cancel these two days. They've been rescheduled for next Monday and Wednesday (March 5th and 7th). I'll keep you posted!

I do, however, plan on addressing Behavior Change Theory, (based off of one of our many great/heated discussions) the role of men in the prevention of mother to child transmission, we will watch a great movie called "Yesterday" (addressing stigma and discrimination in a rural village in the province of Kwa Zulu Natal), and (my friend, Setswana 2 Setswana Sister, and fellow PCV) LaQuita will come up and facilitate a discussion on ARVs. The last thing we're gonna do is something akin to a post-test. We're going to play a game of HIV and AIDS Jeapordy. The majority of participants have never heard of the game before...so it should be interesting. I think the next two days will be fun and exciting.

Plus, I must give a very BIG THANK YOU to my mother, who helped me out soooo much in putting this program together! Thanks again mom!

OTHER THINGS I'VE DONE:

Helped to celebrate my friend Saziso's 23rd birthday. His party was the hotness. Over 100 people came to the braai. I cooked my amazingly delicious cheese and potato dish, baked beans (Danielle style), garlic bread (bought from the Super Spar), and my scrumbibaliomtious carrot cake with cream cheese frosting! Thanks to all of my friends who helped me prepare the dishes!

Went to Jo'burg with another local NGO called Eduland. I had soooo much fun! That's a whole other conversation we'll have. I'll get back to that one at a later date!

Decided to get a pet. I'm not sure if this is my maternal instinct thing coming out or just a continuing theme of my complete love of animals. I think I'll be getting a bird...a parrot. Through my research, I've learned that many parrots live as long or longer than humans. Since I don't want my children or grandchildren hating me, because they'll have to inherit the bird, he has to live equal to or less than the normal lifespan of a dog. His name will be Lucky Bob Kototsi (last name is respective of the fact that Saziso will probably be keeping him when I leave), or L. Bob , or L.Bo (in reference to the whole J.Lo craze...or have I been gone long enough so that I'm so outdated?).

Well, that's enough for now. I'll be posting soon, but forgive me, because March, in addition to it being the month that the Second Coming of the Lord (me) was born, my mother will be coming for a visit, and I'll be busy with work stuff. I'll do my best though!

Salang Sentle!

Mixed Message.....

Ok, I've got several tidbits of information to share, thus the "mixed" message:

1. Happy belated birthday Thabi (aka Charlene)! I just want to give a big shout out to Thabi on turning the big 2-5! A few of her random, LifeLine, and Jesus Dancing (even though she's Jewish) friends got together this past weekend to celebrate this special day! Thabi was treated to a trip to Spur for food and fun! Per the tradition of Spur, the birthday girl (or boy) has to wear a Spur crown while standing on their seat, and the wait staff embarasses them by singing a crazy happy birthday song. Happy birthday was sung in Afrikaans, English, Tswana, and Spur! Happy birthday again!

2. This is an appeal to the South African postal service. My mother sent me a package with
many of my requested goodies inside around the beginning of December 2006. Packages
generally take two to three weeks to reach my South African city. Well, it's now 2007 and I
feel like either Tom Hanks or Meg Ryan in Sleepless in Seatle, desperately hoping to be
united with the one I love (aka my package sent from home). I can't focus at work. I've
shyed away from friends and strangers. I can't sleep. I've lost my appetite. All of this is
due to the fact that my packages is somewhere in the world, lost.........forever? If you know
the whereabouts of my package....please connect it with its rightful owner!

3. On Friday, I was walking down the main street in my city, minding my own business,
when all of a sudden, some nasty old man decided that it was ok for him to pinch my arm
and wink at me. Yuck! Yesterday, again, I was walking down the same busy street, when
a strange man thought that it was cool for him to grab my hand and lick his lips. Double,
tripple, quadruple Yuck! If you haven't figured it out yet, it is NEVER ok to touch a
stranger (particularly me) unless said stranger (me) expressly gives you permission to do
so.

4. It's really hot in my city! I've never sweat so much! Ok, that's a lie. I've never sweat so
much when I'm not participating in an activity that really calls for sweat, ie. horse
back riding, softball or other sports-related activity, cutting the grass, etc. I've never
really appreciated a cold bath, or a lunch break bath as I do now!

5. "In town", there is an electronics store that doubles (or triples) as a beauty shop and
snack shop. I want to take a picture, just so that when I tell this story again, I'll have
hardcore evidence. I think my friend has a connection with the lady who works there.
Maybe she'll let me take a picture, and if not, I'll be forced to do it undercover.

Cultural Faux Pas

Yesterday, while visiting the home of a friend, I noticed that the women and children in the family where all gathered around the back of the house, looking under the eve of the roof. Very soon I noticed what was the object of everyone's attention: a small bat about the length of my index finger. It was a cute little bat, hanging upside down as cute little bats tend to do. My curiosity was the subject of both discussion and entertainment. My friend's younger cousin explained that I should not get too excited by the bat's presence, because just before I noticed the bat, they were about to kill it (by means of beating it to death with a long metal pole, and if that didn't work, by spraying it with hair spray and lighting it on fire). I was a bit mortified! I placed myself between them and the bat, doing my best to recall all of those interesting little factoids I'd picked up during my days as a volunteer (Jr. Zoo Crew member) at the Atlanta Zoo and on the Nature Chanel.

• Bats are generally harmless
• Bats help to control the insect population (which is a plus for me, because I don't have an appreciation for insects)
• Just one bat can catch hundreds of insects in an hour
• They aid in the pollination of some of our favorite fruits and veggies: figs, dates, peaches, mangos, bananas, etc.

I knew that I started running out of reasons to spare the poor bats life when I finally said, "but he's so cute!" Finally, I offered an alternative: What if I tried to shoo the bat away with a stick? My friend's aunt shook her head (as if to say, "you silly little American"), but she allowed me to give it the old college try. Well, I think that I made the situation worse when the bad crept even farther under the roof until it was out of sight. A look of terror came across everyone's face. I was quickly told that the bat was intentionally sent to their house by someone in the community to do harm to the family. It would sleep all day, and in the evening, it would wake up and do it's dirty work. I was told that bats rarely ever go anywhere alone, and because this one was alone, that was a sign that it was no ordinary bat.

My friend's mother and aunt tried poking the bat out of it's hiding place. Finally, the hole was plugged up with wet sponges in hopes that it would suffocate.

I was torn. Part of me rationally knew that this bat was simply minding its own business by catching up on some sleep. The other side to the story is that my friend and his family really believe that they would suffer as a result of this bat's presence. It's not like me saying...step on a crack, break your mother's back...or don't break a mirror or you'll have seven years of bad luck.

Feeling kinda bad, I asked my friend if my actions were going to harm his family. He said that his family just thought I was funny because I didn't understand. I asked about the consequences if I did understand. He said, "that would be bad, very bad!" In this particular situation, I was happy to be an uninformed American.

Life's a beach...in Durban!

Dancin' in the streets like it's 1999 in 2007!

Braai meat, fireworks, and friends on New Years

Qhawe (Marissa and Charles' son)

Sistas 4 Life (Marissa)

LaQuita, Jade, and Guess Who at the beach (if you couldn't tell)

LaQuita, Charlene, n' Me

During the festive season (South African for the Christmas break), a few of my Peace Corps friends and I headed down to Durban to visit my friends/family. It was rather surreal, I must admit, to have someone other than myself make the long (but not as long as the 18 hour flight it takes to get to South Africa) trek down to "South Africa's playground". Instead of taking a plane (as I ususally did), our charriot (aka Greyhound bus) shuttled us through exotic locations such as Pretoria and Jozi. What was extimated as a 9 hour trip turned into something like 12 hours, thanks to a delay in Jo'burg.

As we approached Durban, my friend Marissa and I were coordinating our meet-up spot. I knew that we were all in for an exciting reunion by the high-pitched squeal in her voice. I asked, "Are we about to make a scene in the bus rank." She responded, "Oh, hell yes...!" When we arrived, Charlene asked me if every other person was my friend. I kept reassuring her that there would be no question of who was who when Marissa, Charles and Qhawe arrived. I think I heard Marissa before I saw her!

Spending time with my friends from Durbs reminded me of how familiar and close we are with each other. It had been two years since my last trip, and meeting up two years later felt like I just saw them earlier that day. Knowing my friends the way I do, my Peace Corps friends would surely experience that same feeling, as if we've all known each other forever. By the end of the trip, I know this prediction came true...plans have been made for future visits...without me!

New Years Eve was spent in Lively Rustenburg...All I have to say is that prayer, braai meat, dancing in the street, 6-to-6's, fireworks, and alcohol have to potential to be either really exciting (as it was in my case), or explosive (like when drunk people who've prayed, eatten, stayed up for nights on end without sleep, and listen to the hottest songs in South Africa, play with fireworks and send people ducking and diving to avoid getting hit, and ending up being a story on the 7 o'clock news!)- true story!

Not your average pet....

WARNING!!! NOT FOR ANIMAL LOVERS OR FOR THE FAINT!!!!!!!! DON'T SAY I DIDN'T WARN YOU!!!

For the past couple of weeks, one of my friends has been complaining about having sleep disturbances. Every night he hears the pitter-patter of little feet scurrying from one side of his one-room to another. His pets, he says, are being naughty and not obeying him when they were expressly told to stay outside. On Monday, he decided that his little pets were just too naughty and something needed to be done to let them know their place. A mixture of pap and galephirimi (translated from Setswana to English: "You won't see the morning") was placed in strategic locations around the room. All that was left to do was wait until the the next day. Somewhere between Monday night and Tuesday morning, my friend reported hearing things in his room shifting and falling from the only table in the room. "Surely", he said, "they [his pets] were dizzy"!

After work on Tuesday, I arrived at his house to bear witness to the specticle of my friend and his cousins turning the one-room upside down in search of what remained of his beloved pets. Both women and children gathered around as the number of mice was announced and bodies were displayed. His younger counsin found amuzement in chasing us around the courtyard with mice carcases. In total, eight mice were found. Yuck!

It's a girl!

Charlene & Lele


There's been an addition to my family. It's a girl. She just arrived a week ago, weighing in at about 5 pounds and some change. She is: sweet, soft, playful, smart, loving, and most of all, cute! Guess what?! She can already talk and is almost potty trained! The first time I even heard about her, I knew that I would love her, cause she's just perfect like that. Oh, you wanna know her name? Well, she's got two: an American and Setswana name, plus several pet names. Her American and Setswana names are Aisha and Boruku bo botelele (long pants), respectively. Congrats are in order to my Setswana Sister for life! Setswana to Setswana! Don't worry mom, I'm just the aunt!

I am HIV/AIDS Affected

I grew up in the 1980's when HIV was first diagnosed amongst gay, white, American men. At that point in my life, I was unconcerned about HIV and AIDS. I was too young and the people effected by the diesase didn't look like me. Why should I have been concerned? For a number of years, my mother worked at the Southeast AIDS Training and Education Center, which is an orgainzation that provides HIV/AIDS information and training to health care professionals. I was exposed to and surrounded by HIV/AIDS information and HIV effected/affected people all of the time. I still wasn't too concerned about HIV/AIDS. It was a theoretical disease to me, something that happened to other people...gay people, IV drug users, people who practiced risky sexual behaviors, sex workers, white people, poor people, older people, them...

The face of HIV/AIDS, the picture of who I thought was at an increased risk for contracting the disease has now started to look too familiar. The face is starting to look like me: A heterosexual, female of African decent. In America, African American women residing in the south are at an increased risk for contracting HIV than women living in any other part of the country. Eighty-three percent of all HIV/AIDS cases are reported amongst women. Forty-five percent of new HIV diagnosis were transmitted through unprotected, heterosexual intercourse. African Amercan women are 19 times more likely than white women to recieve an HIV diagnosis.

In South Africa, the situation is even more grave, and the face of HIV/AIDS still looks like me: young, female, heterosexual, black. Within a four block radius around my office, there are no less than 6 functioning funeral homes. You must ask yourself: How is it that there can be so many, and all of them are still in business? Basic economics: Supply in demand. There are about 1500 new HIV infections occuring each day. It is estimated that half of South African 15 year olds will not live to collect retirement, and individuals in this same cohort have a 56% chance of dying before the age of 60. There are approximately 5.4 million people infected with HIV in South Africa. That represents 11% of the population. One third of women between the ages of 25 and 29 are infected with the virus, and 19% of the work-age population (20-64) is HIV positive.

I am HIV/AIDS Affect.

I now ask: Are you HIV/AIDS Affected too?

World AIDS Day

Mail & Guardian: AIDS report paints bleak picture of youth

Mail & Guardian: Missing childhood, Missing Parents

BBC Report- Case Study: South Africa

Alternative Information and Development Centre

CDC: 2005 HIV Surveillance Report

Class Assignment: Write about how you spent your Thanksgiving Holiday.

This Thanksgiving was one of the best that I think I've had, because I was able to experience the true meaning behind the holiday: Sharing with others. My roommate and I hosted a couple of our fellow Peace Corps Volunteers/good friends up for the weekend, unfortunately, however, our really good friend lost his gogo the week before. We didn't think that we would be able to hold dinner this weekend, because we wanted to support him in his time of need. As I was telling my friends about this dilemma, they suggested that they come anyway, because it is always interesting to experience traditions other than your own...that's what we signed up for by joining the Peace Corps, right? Due to transportation issues, only one person was able to get to here in time enough to leave for the Friday night vigil.

We arrived at Saziso's house at about 5:30 pm, because at 6:00pm, a horn was sounded off to announce the arrival of the casket. As the hurst backed into the driveway, people formed two lines on either side of the walk way, holding candles and singing hymns. The casket was ushered into a bedroom in the main house by several of the many male family members in town for the funeral. Prayers were said, hymns were sung, and there was a great deal of waling took place. Following this portion of the service, people went back to their various activities: cooking in large black pots (because the family provides food to visitors from Friday to just after the funeral on Saturday); chatting; praying; playing around (for the many children); etc.

At about 7:oopm, people started gathering under the tent, which was set up in the front yard, for an all night prayer session/revival. Prior to that starting, plates of pap (corn meal) and tripe were distributed to funeral attendees. Tripe is apparently a customary part of a pre-funeral meal, because a cow is usually slaughtered for the event and the rest of the meat is served at the funeral. My friend and I, along with at least 40 other people sang, listen to the service, danced, etc. My friend Saziso, in addition to being many other things, including a sangoma, is a preacher. So it was very interesting to see him in a different light. It was cool to meet the other preachers that he worked with, as well as a few of his sangoma friends. What an interesting contrast (or at least in my opinion). However, instead of conflicting with one another, the two lines seemed to fit seamlessly together.

Because I've yet to master the "6 to 6" (We've covered this already, remember? Well you would if you've been keeping up with my blog!), periodically, my friend and I would take a nap. I guess you wouldn't really call it a nap, because what seemed like every 5 minutes, Saziso or one of his friends/relatives would come in, turn on the lights, shake us and say "Are you asleep? You should go to sleep!" Thanks guys! We would also be rattled awake if anything particularly interesting happened, like when all of the chairs were moved from the tent, and church goers started to rotate around an invisible center piece, like the moon does around the earth.

Finally, at about 4:30 am or 5:00 am, things started to get somewhat quiet as people started to fall asleep, just to be up by 6:00 am for the funeral. When we "woke up", the day's frenzy was in full swing, and the church service had already commenced. The women were feverishly cooking and serving people. The men were talking and chopping wood for the fire. My friend and I, after the church service ended, followed the crowd and hopped into one of the taxis that had been arranged for the occasion. A short ride to the grave site was followed by a short grave-side sermon, lots of singing and drum playing. Once the service was over, we went back to Saziso's house to eat.

After we returned home, we were able to reunite with our other long lost friends who we hadn't seen in a few months. Being with my friends was like taking a long breath of fresh air. It was great to be able to share my life at site with them. We ate, cooked (we'll get to the menu later), laughed, looked at pictures, watched a few episodes of the first season of the Cosby Show (thanks mom from all of us), told funny stories, and took a much needed trip to the town pool. While at the pool, one of my friends began talking to the lifeguard who was trying his best to hit on her. He said that he had seen me around with a friend of mine. I asked him if I had to date someone at the pool to get in free. I was relieved when he said no, but was told that, next time, just ask for K (I'm protecting my source)! A free dip in the pool anyone?

After coming back from swimming, we did more of the cooking (which didn't seem to end until about an hour after our other friends had arrived). Our appetizer was freshly made salsa and chips. For dinner, we cooked green beans, baked beans, mac & cheese from scratch, a whole chicken and turkey with a garlic and sage base, garlic rolls, pumpkin squash, our famous potato dish, mealies (corn) on the cob, and for dessert, I made my first ever carrot cake with cream cheese frosting. Another friend made his/her delicious apple pie. Yummmmmmmmm!

Tshepo, Saziso, and several of Saziso's relatives (particularly his very attractive older brother Tshepo (don't be jealous girls...you know who you are!) ) and friends came over to share in our Thanksgiving meal. Prior to eating, we gathered around the kitchen island and told the story and tradition behind Thanksgiving. Then we all went around and said what we were thankful for. At first, I thought that might be a bit corny, but it turned out to be the most touching moment for all of us. Our South African friends had only seen/heard about the holiday on T.V. They were all so excited to take part in our festivities, just as we've (PCVs) been to take part in theirs. For the PCVs, that small (or large) part of us that was homesick on this particular holiday was relieved because we were together with old friends and new!

Once people were fat and full, all hell broke loose and we had a great time singing, dancing, laughing, and talking! There was a nice mix of popular South African music (Sista Bethina, the song about meeting the love of your life at the taxi rank, "O nwa, O nwa, O nwa", Dankie my bebeza, and other favorites), American music, and Michael Jackson music (a class of its own). One of my SA friends is a BIG Michael Jackson fan...my fellow PCV won his heart by having a more extensive collection than I do...in fact the whole night, they were wrestling with each other to get to the music fast enough to play their favorite MJ song! Hmmmm. We ended the night with babalas!

The next morning, everyone woke up, said our sad goodbyes until the next time, and the PCV/South African gang headed off to the taxi rank. Saying goodbye at the taxi rank, might I add, is not as romantic as when it's done at a train station, even at the airport. Maybe it's the whole mugging thing you're worried about. Maybe it's that you can't avoid smelling the aroma of rotting food or chicken feet roasting on the spit. So, I digressed a bit...sue me!

After putting my friends on the taxi, I jumped on another one with Tshepo, Saziso, and Montle, headed out to Saziso's...for more "holiday" fun. When I got there, we hung out, chatted, talked, and laughed. Ok...so I'm about to digress again...ready? So I hang out with people who love to drink beer, Castle Lite in particular. Because I don't drink beer and there is always a plethora of beer caps, I need something to entertain myself, right? Saziso dared me at one point to see if I was strong enough to bend bottle caps with the force between my thumb and pointer finger. Let's just say that I more than won the bet. It's become a habit, an addiction of sorts. For the whole of Sunday, Saziso's hot older brother Tshepo picked up on my habit and began to hand bottle caps to me without even thinking about it. At one point, I took a nap because I was exhausted. When I woke up, the thought crossed my mind about what was done with the caps collected while I was asleep. A few minutes later, Tshepo said, "Oh, I've got something for you." He had been saving all of the bottle caps for me...I smiled...ah, the spirit of giving was still in the air! Saziso later told me that he had been bending the caps until Tshepo realized it, and playfully yelled at him for taking the caps he was saving for me...see how they look out!

So, I'm back now...I was sitting with everyone in Saziso's room, when he walked in and called everyone to the front yard where three piles of clothes were resting under the tent. The clothes were his gogo's. The family members remaining after the funeral sat around the tent in silence, facing the front door of the house. The matriarchs of the family were led one-by-one to kneel in the door frame. One gogo (grandmother) took a razor and shaved a small piece of hair from the temples and the nape of each daughter. Another gogo collected it. This is one way to show that you are mourning the loss of someone. Every relative in the family is expected to wear a small blue sash pinned on their shirt sleeve every day for a few months, to show that they're mourning.

Once that ceremony was over, we went back to hanging out, watching movies, talking, and laughing. I was telling some of the men in Saziso's family about the many names I've been giving since I've been here: Lerato Machinini and Zanele (Za Za for short). Because I've somehow endeared myself to this family, Saziso's uncle (the man of the house) gave me a new name: Lebogang (Appreciated) Kototsi. Just now, my friend Tshepo said that, because Saziso's initials are SSK, I need a middle name...Lorraine...don't ask me why this one was chosen! So my full name is Lebogang Lorraine Kototsi (LLK). Call me Totsi for short!

In summary (don't you hate it when people include "in summary" in their concluding paragraph?), I really had a great time this weekend! I'm sure that this weekend will last in the minds of my friends (both South African and American) for a long time, forever for me!

THE END

E is for Intelligence

Just now, I was sitting with LifeLine counselors in the training room at my office, waiting for a guest speaker to arrive so that we could watch a demonstration on how to use the Orasure HIV test kit. Some of the local mines have requested that our organization temporarily supply them with individuals trained in HIV voluntary testing and counseling (VCT). While waiting, we were instructed to go around the room, share one word on how you're feeling, and words that are associated with the letters in our name. When it came to me...well...it went all down hill.

My feeling: O sharp (aka. "I'm cool"...even though that's not a "LifeLine feeling"...I used it anyway).

D-Dimonate (Delicious...my Setswana speaking friends think I'm crazy for that one...because it refers to foods...or something perhaps a little naughty in the Batswana context)
A-Attentive
N- Naughty (In a South African context, that means precotious...Rodha supplied me with that one)
I-Inspiring
E- Intelligent...........(Yeah, I didn't really pass the 1st grade...I made nice nice with the lovely people at Emory so that they would give me my Master's degree. As soon as it came out of my mouth...I knew that I was wrong...the only thing to do was to laugh at myself! And boy, did I laugh! The funniest thing about it is that no one else got it...except Elayna...and she laughed at me too...so from now on, E is for Intelligence)
L- Laughable (for my many, many bloopers)
L-Lovable
E-Embarrassed!

Takin' it back to the old school...in Bapong

(Pictured: Me, Saso, and cousins)

A comment on South African taxis...

First, I must define for you what I mean by taxi, a South African taxi to be more specific. Imagine one of those VW vans...you know the ones I'm talking about...they're often identified with the 1960's, hippies, Woodstock, and free love...yeah, that one...that's what South African taxis look like.

Imagine how loud your 16 year-old brother/cousin/son/nephew/friend might play music in the car right after he received his driver's licence and got to take it out for a spin for the first time alone with four of his friends. You can actually hear the car before you see it. That's how loud taxis are.

Here's a little interactive portion for you: If you know anyone with a mini-van (although a mini-van is too nice compared to a taxi), ask them if you and more than a few strangers can borrow if for about 30 mintues (that's long enough). Gather a group of about 15 people you don't know (who may or may not have taken a bath, potentially have an open wound, not use deoderant yet worked a 15 hour day in 98.6 degree weather, who is carrying about ten bags of groceries and expects you to carry at least 3 of them on your lap, and who might be lactating and will expose you to the maternal process of breast feeding), and sit in the van without the air conditioner on and with only one window cracked.

There must be 4 people in the back row, and at least three people in the other three rows. On the front bench seat, it's the driver, a fairly attractive (or not) young female in the middle (so the taxi driver has someone to hit on for the entire ride, or until she gets out), and another stranger next to the young woman.

Try being the person who sits in the last row next to the window. Now get out of the taxi without anyone kindly moving out of your way.

A Couple Of Things You Might Experience:

On our first trip to Thlabane, to visit our friend Saziso and other co-workers, Elayna and I were given not-so-specific directions to give to the taxi driver, in hopes of getting dropped off on the correct street. Well, the directions, plus our language deficiency seemed like they'd get in the way of actually making it to our intended destination. A call was placed on my phone to Saziso, but after several attempts, things weren't getting any more clear. The phone was then passed to the young lady sitting next to us, in hopes that she might help point us in the right direction. After a 7 minute conversation, she didn't seem any more clear than we were, so without a word, the phone was passed up to the driver (via everyone in the taxi). After a 5 minute conversation, the phone was passed back to me...we arrived safe and sound...a big "THANKS" is in order to all of those ananomyous taxi patrons!

Last weekend, I, along with Elayna, Tshepo, and Saziso took the last taxi headed to Bapong, to visit Tshepo's "compound" (that's for you manqane). After about five minutes out of the taxi rank, a man seated near the back had a loud conversation with the driver. Saso immediately started laughing. We were soon to find out that we were making a short detour to the driver's house...so he could pick up his gun. I'm thinking about going over to his house, now that I know where he lives, and pay a visit to him and his family...I feel a special bond with him...I feel like we met, had a first date, and met the family all in one night...

FOR MORE ON TAXIS AND OTHER SORTED THOUGHTS, VISIT: TOO MUCH TAXI (A big SHOUT OUT to Elayna's friends! I feel like I've had too much taxi too!)

After the storm....

Currently where I am, it's technically "rainy season", yet up until last week or so, there's been little to no rain. Last week, it rained and poured for a few hours, but generally cleared up by evening time. Last Friday, I was hoping to spend the evening on my balcony, reading, eating and sipping on a cold beverage, instead I was first treated to a visual dessert! The sky was overcaste, the sun was setting, and it was just the right temperature. As I was simultaniously reading my current book (Not without laughter, by Langston Hughes) and stuffing a piece of garlic bread in my mouth (courtesy of my neighborhood SuperSpar), something caught my attention: the color of the sky and the seemingly complete stillness around me. The sky was the most amazing mixture of blues and intense yellow. Over the course of the next two hours, the sky evolved into a meadly of pinks, oranges, yellows and reds. All I could do was sit in amazement as I was treated to what seemed like an experimental art show in the sky. I took pictures but it was truly a "you had to be there" moment. Enjoy the pictures anyway, however keeping in mind that it was a zillion times better in the moment.

On living with a PCV...

Sure, I've had roommates before. My freshman year at Spelman College, I had a roommate. My junior year, I had three roommates (six or seven if you counted boyfriends). From senior year in college until after grad school, my best friend Loopy should have paid half of the rent, utilities, and food for as much as he stayed over. Nothing, thus far, has seemed to compare to living with my current roommate/friend/fellow PCV- Elayna.

Elayna has an unusual obsession with cheese. On several occassions, she has assured me that, amongst her friends, she is not so bad. Sure, I like cheese (Cheddar, Feta, Blue Cheese, etc.), but I never really cared about it one way or the other. Ok, well, I lied. I guess I do have something for cheese, particularly when I'm eating certain foods. There was that one time, when I was very young and my grandfather came for a visit. He took me and my brother to Wendy's, stood in a very long line, and ordered a cheeseburger for me. When our order arrived at the table, I was hurt to find that there was no cheese on my burger; a necessary ingredient for the perfect burger! I proceeded to throw a hissy-fit in the middle of the store, and threw it down, insisting that it just wouldn't do. (Ok, I feel a sense of confusion and judgement in your eyes. I know I'm talking about living with a PCV...but it's a nice tangent. Plus, I really wasn't a brat growing up...I promise...don't judge me!). I grew out of the whole cheese thing, but living with Elayna has made me very aware of my daily cheese intake. Cheese is included in just about every dish I eat. F.Y.I. the Super Spar has a nice selection.

Elayna and I think about food a lot. Maybe this is due to the fact that, while in Pre-Service Training, we didn't really have much control over what we ate...we were thrown into a paradigm where pap and chicken feet are king. Additionally, for the first few weeks here, we had to go grocery shopping very frequently, because we had no refrigerator. Tragic, I know. We talk about food to our U.S. family and friends (I've had Cheez-its, Reeses Buttercups, toco kits, etc. sent to me), with each other, and with our co-workers. We talk about food so much at work that I think they think we have eating disorders. They say, "Oh my gosh! Man, you're always hungry."

We've even started to dress alike. This morning, we were busy getting ready for work. I tried on different outfits, first putting on my beige pants and collar shirt. That was cool, but it just wasn't the one. (I'm sure you've had that experience before). I finally decided on blue slacks (to add that professional touch), a light blue collar shirt, black shoes and belt. Five minutes before work was to start, we both walked out of our respective rooms to head out on our three minute treck to work. To our surprise and amuzment, we were wearing the exact same outfit and matching color combination...are we starting to morph into the same person? Luckly, we work at a counseling organization, so if need be, we can get face-to-face, couples counseling.

Integrating into my community...Peace Corps-South Africa style

Well, I’d like to say that I’ve not done anything out of the ordinary; nothing that I wouldn’t have done at home, but with a whole different group of people. On Saturday (October 7th), my roommate (and fellow PCV-Elayna) and I decided that we would throw a braai (BBQ/cookout) for some of our colleagues at the office, just to say what’s up and here we are…you’re stuck with us for two years! Well, as is the tradition with Black South Africans (from what I’ve been told and have experienced) when you say that you are gonna have a braai/BBQ, you are expected to pay for everything, which includes meat, meat, meat, more meat, pap (a tasteless, spongy substance made out of ground corn flour), and a beverage of the alcoholic-type. Well, we bought the biggest piece of steak we could find. It’s called a “Texan steak”. Indeed, it fits along with the myth that is Texas: BIG. We also cooked borewors (sausage-esk links), and of course, chicken. I was the grill master! Additionally, I cooked a cheese and potato dish that I’ve had twice before since being in South Africa. It was lekker fine! (Peel and slice potatoes 6 medium sized potatoes and one onion. In a separate container, add 1.5 cups of milk with two tablespoons of flour. Stir and add to potatoes and onions. Add freshly ground pepper, garlic power, and Laury’s seasoning salt sent from home. Add five to six tea spoons of blue cheese and three or four teaspoons of butter. Bake until potatoes are done at about 350 degrees F. When potatoes are cooked, layer with cheddar cheese, and let melt.) We also had salad and fresh garlic bread (on sale daily at your local Super Spar grocery store). I tell you, we ate like eating was going out of style…and all on a Peace Corps budget! Dijo tse dimonate tata!

The rest of the evening was nothing less than way too much fun! A few more people came, and brought more drinks and music. One of my coworkers brought his CD collection of popular South African dance music, and another guy pulled his car in our yard, put the music in and turned it on blast. We danced and danced and danced the night away!

This past Saturday, we all went out to the township for what we affectionately call a “6-to-6”, where you dance from 6pm until 6am the next morning. Really, it ended up being more like a 6-to-3, but, close enough! I figure I have two years to build up to three additional hours. What a great way to integrate into your community!