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!

Can you tell the difference?

AFTER: YEAH

Before

Other than the clothes and angle of the sun…can you see anything different? Yep, you guessed it…we’re officially Peace Corps volunteers (The first picture...if you couldn't tell). We swore in on September 21st at a local resort in the Mpumalanga Province. Just to catch you up to speed on what you’ve missed over the last few weeks, here are some of the things that happened:

In the afternoon, on Tuesday, September 19th, we all left our host families to move into the camp-like compound we lived in for our first few days in South Africa. I woke up extra early (around 4:30 am) to see my mother off for the last time as she was headed to work. The goodbye wasn’t as long and emotional as you might expect. This, however, is due to the fact that, for the week leading up to this day, my whole family was emotional over my departure. I will miss them a great deal, but plan to see them several times over the course of my two years…Salang sentle!

Wednesday night, the Education and NGO volunteers got together for one last hoorah. I’m not sure if I’ve mentioned this, but when we first arrived in South Africa, we were told to pack a “non-essentials” and “essentials” bag. People initially freaked out about parting with some of their 80 lbs (and more) of stuff, but doing this exercise allowed for less clutter in our host family homes. Interestingly, in my “essentials” bag, I managed to include my swim suit, which is useful in a land locked portion of the country…with no pond, pool, lake, bath tub, or slip-n-slide in sight! Well, I’ve said all this to say that we were finally reunited with our “Pretoria bags” as the “non-essentials” bag came to be known as. It was like Christmas, Presidents Day, and a 21st birthday combined. Over the course of two months, most of us forgot what we even packed in those bags. So on Wednesday night, we were all outfitted in “new” digs, smelling fresh (body sprays that we were separated from, but could have been useful after rinsing off in the dirty water you just washed up in…courtesy of the bucket bath), and with a renewed sense of hope for the future. That night, the party was in my room because I had the loudest speakers…who woulda thunk that such a little box could produce such big noise! The party was fun until my iPod froze…such a sad day! Let’s take a moment to reflect on the joy that an iPod can bring...filling your ears and mind with noises from home……………… The camp compound was divided into “the quiet side” and “the party side.” Really, let’s just be honest and say that the whole compound was “the party side”, because the majority of people stayed up!

Swearing in took place at a local resort. It was an event in and of itself to see the grungy people we turned into over the past six weeks, magically transform into well polished ladies and gentlemen…myself included. I was able to capture the actual swearing in portion of the event on video just in case you don’t believe that I’m now an official volunteer. Yes, you really can call me a Peace Corps Volunteer…I made it!

I can’t believe that time has flown by so quickly. It seems like just yesterday, I arrived in Philadelphia to start this journey. Now, I am about to take another step to coming closer to fulfilling my dream…Peace Corps here I come, or rather…Here I am!

Over the next two years, I will be working with a local organization that provides voluntary HIV/AIDS testing and counseling (VCT) through the efforts of local volunteers. I’m very excited about working with such an organization, because next year, I will start the process of becoming a VCT counselor, which will afford me some of the skills I was looking for in my life prior to the Peace Corps. Additionally, there seem to be several opportunities to become actively involved in several projects, particularly with respect to the new mobile VCT unit and working with the large mines surrounding my community. As I become better acquainted with my organization and my role within it, I’ll make sure to let you know.

Oh, you wanted to know about my living situation as a PCV in the NGO program? Well, let me first say that as an NGO volunteer, housing is usually arranged by the organization, or you will be given the opportunity to find housing (within a budget, of course) for yourself. Depending on your site location and budget, this could mean that you live the “traditional” Peace Corps experience (whatever that is), which could mean living in a rural village, with no electricity, pit latrines (or long drops as they are affectionately called), bucket baths, fetching water from the local watering source, and two years in a thatched roof hut. The other end of that spectrum could find you living in a nicely furnished apartment, in a gated community, in a large metropolitan area, with a gym membership. So, if you are thinking about joining the Peace Corps, expect both the expected and unexpected, because many things are possible.

I’m currently living in a two bedroom, one bathroom flat on the compounds of host family’s house. Sharing my flat is another PCV who will be working at the same organization as I am. We have a bathtub/shower combo, fully functional kitchen, electricity, and lounge. Both my roommate/PCV and I have the option of staying here or finding separate housing.

Well, as I’m sure you’ve noticed, I’ve written enough to keep you busy for a while. If you are going through the nerve wrecking Peace Corps application process, think you might be invited to Peace Corps-South Africa, or just have questions, please feel free to post a comment and I’ll get back to you A.S.A.P.

Tsamaya sentle!

Two days and counting...

Can you believe it? I only have two more days until I officially become a Peace Corps Volunteer...no longer a mere trainee. It seems like the days have alternated between moving by so quickly and not moving by fast enough. Now that the time is almost up, and then time for another stage in this journey, it really has only been a short time in retrospect. Although the time has been short, I've learned a great deal about myself, my fellow Peace Corps trainees, and the people of South Africa. Now that the next stage is fast approaching...I look forward to what the next two years has to offer.

Tonight is the last night I will spend with my host family. I've grow to become an intergral part of their lives as they have in mine. Both the education and NGO trainees will move back into the camp-like compound we lived in upon our arrival in South Africa. Wednesday, there will be a party with the Education and NGO trainees, which will be a blast I'm sure. Thursday is the big day. We'll be joined by U.S. and Peace Corps Officials, along with our site supervisors, to a "light lunch" and a swearing in. The next time you hear from me...I'll be official...

I hope that you continue to read and enjoy this blog and share with me in my journey...until then...Salang Sintle!!!!! (I'll give you R5 if you can guess which of South Africa's 11 official languages that is)...Any guesses?

What I learned this past week.....

I finally learned…in a visual way…what it means to say “the buck stops here.”

Dumelang Abantu!!!!!!!!!!!

I know, I know, it’s been a looong time since I’ve updated my blog….but I have a really good excuse….I’ve been serving as a Peace Corps Trainee (PCT) in South Afrika! Enough said! Thus far, I’m really enjoying myself and am attempting to soak up as much as possible from this experience! I’ve made many friends within both the NGO (Non-Governmental Organization) and Education groups, but unfortunately, contact between the two groups is limited to random meetings at the local shopping plaza. During a much needed and sought after safari to the local shopping center, to upload on the essential items of any PCT (toilet tissue, potato chips, KFC, chocolate, power adapters, etc.), you see people that you know you should know, but haven’t seen in a while…SA-EDU Trainees! Just in case you need an example…so that you can relate to the experience…it’s like running into people you haven’t seen since college at the local Publix (or Shoprite as the case may be). I’m sure my fellow PCTs would liken it to smelling a home cooked meal after being forced to consume cafeteria food during freshman year of college.

In addition to making friends within the Peace Corps group, I’ve made many friends within my local community! Specifically, I’ve integrated very well into my host family and extended family! I’m learning Setswana…although the people in this area primarily speak Ndebele…this is Peace Corps people! My host family has been helping me learn Setswana…even though their primary language is Swazi…hmm. My host mother is great! She makes me laugh all of the time and that really helps to keep from getting homesick! I have family up the street and host brothers/cousins/uncles/aunts that live “on that side” (next door). They are all very protective of me and have so graciously included me into their warm and loving family! Some of my fellow trainees have had ups and downs with their families, but everyone seems to be settling in nicely.

As far as my average day goes, let’s just say that it leaves very little room for personal time or space. I wake up to my morning bucket bath at 6:30am…warm water provided by the tea kettle. My host cousins usually walk with me to school, as their high school is right next to mine. Monday through Friday, I attend language training in Setswana with six other NGO trainees, from 8am to 10 or 10:30am. After language class, we all attend sessions with guest speakers that talk about a range of topics related to NGOs, HIV/AIDS, gender based violence, just to name a few. These “technical sessions” have been hosted in the community “old age center.” We generally have 5 minute (10 to 15 minutes is more like it) breaks throughout the day, and have lunch around 12 or 12:30pm. I live so close to class that I usually walk home for lunch. I either end up eating last night’s leftovers or a PBJ (boy, a PBJ never tasted so good) with the salt & vinegar chips I picked up at the store (aka “tuck shop”). After lunch, it’s back to “tech sessions” until 4 or 5pm. After 5pm, I’ll either hang out with my PC friends and their host families, or hang out with my host cousins until my mom comes home from work.

One of the fun things to do, while waiting for my mom to come home, is explore the community in which I live. This usually consists of climbing one of the many beautiful hills that surround the town. If you take a walk up one of these hills, you seemingly escape to a whole other world full of peaceful silence and a stunning panoramic view. I wish my camera could capture the feeling and the view, but unfortunately digital cameras aren’t that advanced yet.

Ok…now to the fun stuff. Here are just a few things I’ve learned/experienced as a South Afrika-15 NGO Trainee:

Number of Shabeens (bars) immediately surrounding my house that bump music until 5ish am: 3 and counting.

I live in a town with a name no one (not even those who’ve lived here all of their lives) can either spell or say correctly.

Some roosters have a beautiful cock-a-doodle-doo…the rest…you’ll want to tell them to shut up!

My host brother is digging a new hole for the brand new pit latrine, because the current one is full…think about that one!

If you stare at a cow, it will stare back at you! If you stare at a male goat, it may charge you!

Letters I’ve sent to Freckle-maine with the wrong address that he will never receive: 2

Time of day that, according to my host mother, is unsafe to walk on the street in front of my house (or on one of the many hills atop my village, or when one of my host cousins/brothers acts up, or when walking to or from school) because “the Totsi (thugs) will get you!”: Morning, Noon, Night.

Number of people you attract when attempting to hand wash your clothes, that tell you how bad you are at it: at least 5.

You find yourself struggling to keep your eyes open at 8pm, and you and your fellow PCTs discuss how that was staying up “late.”

You watch the same news broadcast in 3 or more languages throughout the evening.

You either get addicted to the soap opera “Generations” or WWF, or both.

Water is not pronounced “water”, it’s pronounced “Wotah.”

At 1 am, you can hear a song from the play “Rent” at the local shabeen...”525,600 mintues….”

Imagine how many times it will take you to wash up in a bucket before you start readjusting your standard of cleanliness.

It is unsafe to visit the latrine after dark, because “the Totsi will get you”, so each individual is outfitted with a bucket in their room for those late night urges…create a visual image for yourself.

My nose is disproportionately darker than the rest of my body.

Most beautiful times of day: Sunrise, sunset, and midnight (you can see every star in the sky, plus the milky way…no, not the candy bar you city dwellers).

The best way to change a blank stare into a smile that will light up a room: Say hello! Lochane (Ndebele), Sanibonani (IsiZulu), Dumelang (Setswana/Sepedi), Hola 7 (slang)!

Well, I’ve written enough! If you want to contact me, leave me a message on this blog, contact my parents for my phone number (if you’re that ambitious), and WRITE LETTERS!

Until Next TIME!!!!!!!!!

Going...going...

and at 5ish pm tomorrow....GONE!

Staging....finalmente!

Hey everybody-

I've finally reached Philly after catching a 6:30 am flight! Yes, that meant that I had to get up (if I ever really went to sleep in the first place) at 3:00 am and be out of the house by 4:15 am to get to O'Hare. Just prior to leaving, my mom, dad, and dog took our last pictures and then lugged my overweight luggage to the car. I got to the airport and finally, it was time to say goodbye to the two most important people in my life...my parental units. Although I tried to keep a stiff upper lip throughout the entire process, it really hit me that I would be saying my final goodbyes for a while. I know, I know, I'm not dying or anything, it's just the Peace Corps. However, I was informed that during the two month Pre-Service Training, I would not have internet or phone service. I've never gone that long without a word from them. I know, however, that we will all pull through and be much stronger when it is all over and done with.

So now I'm in Philly, meeting new faces and finally meeting the people in my Yahoo group. I've sat through informational sessions and have signed my life away to Peace Corps for the next two years. I've now transitioned from an Invitee to a Peace Corps Trainee (PCT). In September, I will be sworn in as an official Peace Corps Volunteer. I'm still not clear as to what I'll be doing and where I'll be going, but I'll make sure to keep you posted.

I know this entry isn't the most spicy bit of gossip (Jay-Pee), but I'm dog tired and have to wake up at the crack of dawn to meet up for another informational session. Wish me luck! I'm not sure when I'll be on next....maybe I'll get a chance tomorrow, but if not...you'll hear from me in a couple of months.

Ya'll come back now, ya here?!

A different kind of packing list....

Wow,

I can't believe that I only have three more days until I head off to the Peace Corps-South Africa staging event. A few months back...oh, let's just say March...I was wondering if I would even have the opportunity to serve. Now, I sit in my wreckage of a room contemplating exactly which sweater to bring and which shoes to leave behind. I keep packing and repacking my bag, hoping that the next time, my suit case zipper will actually close. In some strange way, I feel as though I'm trying to pack my life up in my bags (2 bags hopefully equaling approximately 80 lbs by the time I'm done) so that I'll have everything I think I'll need for a two year stint in an undisclosed location, hoping that I don't leave anything important behind. Inevitably, however, some things will come with me and some things will stay. Maybe I'll forget about that really cute skirt that I wore to that fabulous party in Bucktown, and be so excited when we're finally reunited once I return home. I wonder if that blue blouse with the black dots will even be in style in 2008 (oh, but trust, quality never goes out of style). On the other hand, maybe I'll pine away for those b.a. (mom that's for you) maroon pumps with the zebra tipped toes (no animal lovers...no zebras were harmed in this commercial), and in my first care package from home, they will so kindly be included. Either way, my packing must continue and I'll keep trying until I make it right...hopefully, I'll be reunited with my pumps and all of the other things I left behind soon (granted that no moths eat them, no one else decides to wear them, and I can still find them after being in storage for so long)...12 months is it?

Back to packing........

To sum it up in a word....

Goodgoogleymoogly!!!!

Testing, Testing, 1, 2, 3.....

Hello Everyone-

I've recently received word from the Peace Corps "South Africa Desk" about how and where to contact me while I'm gone...at least for the first two months. When I get word of my permanent site address, I'll make sure to post it. Please feel free to contact me as much (I need letters and care packages people) as you want! I love receiving mail in the states, so this aspect of my being won't change once I'm in South Africa!!!

At least for the first two months of Pre-Service Training, there may or may not be regular communication with me. Yes, I know you're distraught by this news...limited telephone calls, letters, emails, and blog entries...but trust me, it will all work out! When the opportunity presents itself, I'll get a cell phone. If you want the number, email me or contact my parental units.

Ahhh....letters and packages! From prior experience, letters generally take two to four weeks to arrive (more like 3 weeks). If you're expecting a letter from my end, be patient, it should arrive soon (hopefully)! Number each letter/package that you send, so we can collectively know if the mail service (both US and South African) is working in our favor.

If you're planning to send a letter during Pre-Service Training, send it to:

Danielle D. Morris, PCV

U.S. Peace Corps

P.O.Box 9536

Pretoria 0001

South Africa

Packages can be sent through DHL to:

Leah Berkowitz, co/U.S. Peace Corps

Danielle D. Morris, PCV

126 Verdoorn St

Sunnyside, Pretoria

South Africa

DHL will need the telephone number to Peace Corps South Africa: 01127123444255

Well, that's all for now! Later Skater!

Live it up, we could go crazy, live it up, you and me baby...live it up, live it up, live it up!

Hey There-

Long time no see (read)! If you've been following along with the misguided adventures of Dani-Mo, you'd already know that I've been working very hard at having as much fun as possible with family members and friends. Towards the beginning of this month, I had the opportunity to hang out with my Sunday School homeboy Jermaine and his family in Chicago. If I had to pick out the most exciting thing we did, it would be the self-guided tour of the Taste of Chicago, dancing in the park, and getting soaked at Millennium Park (Ok, I know that was more than one thing..more like a list...but it all happened in the same day...so that counts, right?). As a side note, if you've never been to Chicago in the summer time, it is a must do! The city is colder than a _ _ _ _ _ _ _ on a _ _ _ _ _ _ _(fill in the blank) for most of the year, but right along with everything else in nature, it comes alive during the spring and summer months!

On July 3rd, I headed off to the great city of Atlanta, my home town! Getting together and laughing with my family and friends on the 4th of July is something I will always treasure. Ok...here's another side note...every once in a while, when talking to a person who has been in/is in/interested in the Peace Corps, you'll hear about how difficult it is/was to convince family members and friends that joining Peace Corps is better than the many alternatives: not joining Peace Corps, getting a "real job", going off to school, etc. In some situations, parents/friends/significant others believe that they know what is best for the individual, and refuse to accept anything outside of the box they have created. For anyone experiencing this situation, I offer up my full support and encouragement to follow your heart!

I guess that I've been on the lucky end of the spectrum, where I've received nothing less than everyone's full support, regardless of if they understand my decision or not. While I know that I will be miss tremendously, everyone...including the most unlikely characters, know that this is my dream and that it will propel me forward in a positive direction. As I spent time with my friends and family in Atlanta and Chicago, I was enveloped with love and sent along knowing that I have the best support system! I love you all!

Currently, I'm in the midst of livin' it up in Tacoma with my homie Jay-Pee. Thus far, I've been to a couple of high school/AAU basketball games, cook outs, a Rainiers baseball game, a day at and around the Experience Music Project, played a game of Mafia, several games of Spades, watched The Devil Wears Prada, laughed, talked, and laughed a whole lot more! Every time we hang out, there's always something fun going on. I've concluded that good times come along with his infectious personality!I'm constantly reminded of why we are so cool...we're opposites, but ironically, we're soooo similar! Well, anyway, I'm sure that once this trip is (sadly) over, I'll have more to post.

When the opportunity presents itself, I'll make sure to post some crazy pictures!