I yelled at a taxi driver yesterday; called him an asshole. As my hands shook with fury while snatching my bags from the cumvee (I have no idea how to spell this word – a van size taxi that is the mode of public transportation) all I could do was call him names and swear to never ride in his taxi again. Someone wise told me that is all you really can do sometimes.
To make this long story short, a lot of promises were broken yesterday and when the taxi driver broke his by not taking me and my multiple heavy bags to my street in my village, that was the last straw. So I was stranded at the tar road waiting for my friend to come and help me and all I could do was cry. But it was a self pity filled cry and that is the worst kind to show in public.
Some days I immerse myself in Sex and the City episodes (thanks to a friend who loaned me the entire season – this may not be the healthiest of options but I’ll get into that another day) or reading my latest book. Yesterday, since I was in town and had my tax return money burning a whole in my pocket, I went shopping. Even if I don’t buy anything, the act of browsing through clothes and trying them on in search of the perfect item that screams who I am is therapeutic. During those moments, I was fine with the set backs of the day, everything was ok because I was living a “normal” life.
Until, that is, I was left stranded by the big bad taxi driver. My 19 year old friend came to my rescue and taught me something during our walk down the dirt road. Someone made a snide remark that I wasn’t meant to understand but I did and in my elementary Sepedi, I tried to give a snide retort. My friend with his broken English told me that I should just let it go, they are only trying to get a rise out of me. I was dumbfounded. All I could do was picture my dad saying the same thing to me. And then the self pity tears started again. But at least it was dark this time and I could hide them.
Saturday, April 21, 2007
Wednesday, April 18, 2007
enduring laughter
This morning I got up, went through my normal routine of washing my face and teeth, applying a little make-up, getting dressed, eating breakfast while reading a book and then finally walked out the door, just like every other day. I walked to the main tar road to wait for a ride that an hour later, still has not arrived. As I walked down the road and then waited, I endured the same thing that I do every day: Scrutiny, people laughing at me, pointing their fingers at what I’m wearing, asking me if they can have my belt or my earrings or money, talking about me in Sepedi because they know I don’t understand it. I got on a taxi and the driver asked me and this lady how we were. We answered. He clearly didn’t want her answer, just mine so he asked me again, as if I hadn’t responded the first time. I answered again and he just laughed. He laughed his old man, weathered skin face at me. That’s when I decided that if a movie were to be made about my life as a PCV, there would definitely be a montage of laughing faces, some toothless, some vicious, others innocent but all of them laughing. Because that’s what happens every day that I’m here: I’m laughed at.
Saturday, March 31, 2007
who needs coffee when you live in the village
When I showed up to work on Wednesday I was immediately told that there was a snake in the pit toilet out back. There is a strange fascination with snakes here and it usually involves a crowd and a beating of the creature. At that moment, I didn't give it much thought but eventually and inevitably, Susan (my colleague) and I found ourselves back there trying to see it. Supposedly it was in the water tank but all we could see was a white spec that we weren't convinced was actually a snake. Regardless we decided that we should skip using the toilets for the day. .
The next morning I was a few minutes late but when I walked up to the office everyone was standing around outside. I finally realized they were all staring at a 3 foot long snake (probably poisonous if not, the kind that would definitely have bitten you) that was hanging from the tree. It was wriggling a little bit but had blood dripping out of its mouth. They had found the snake and clubbed him to death. Lucky for us, we could safely use the toilets again.
Friday morning I was running really late. I didn't get up till 7:30, the time I should have been leaving to get to the office on time. Oh well, I got ready and headed out in the rain to the main road. I am usually good about greeting people but this morning I encountered a very large group of men which was a little intimidating because they were all staring at me. Please understand, the stares are uncomfortable and usually if I am my overly cheery self, the men take that as a sign that they can be overly friendly and usually some kind of proposal ensues, most of them not so enticing. So I muttered a hello and shifted my umbrella so I wouldn't have to endure their gawking.
At the main road, I waited in the rain for a few minutes and finally a ride came and I made it to Enable village. I hopped out of the car and started down the dirt road, passed a few Gogo's and kids and greeted them all. I saw another group of men, this time only 3 but they were staring as well. So I started to distance myself by walking closer to the tree they were standing opposite of and was about 10 seconds from greeting them when I realized something was a miss. I was looking down as I passed them and noticed a river of red liquid under the tree. My eyes quickly traced the source of what turned out to be blood and stumbled when the whole picture registered in my head. The men standing there weren't just chatting to each other; one of them was wearing a white coat and must have been a local butcher. What caught me off guard was the massive dead cow, which I nearly collided with, hanging by its hind legs from the tree. You think I would have immediately noticed a huge carcass dripping blood but the cow was brown and the tree trunk brown and how was I supposed to know that this particular corner of the street, which I walk by at least twice a week, is where the poor cows come to their end. I quickly greeted the men and kept on my merry way. But I couldn't help and stop a few feet away and turn to stare at the strange picture. Finally a truck drove up and the men got to work loading the meat.
These are some of the things that kick start my mornings. Thought I would share the events of my week. It's a good thing that I'm not a vegetarian. Sorry for those who are…
The next morning I was a few minutes late but when I walked up to the office everyone was standing around outside. I finally realized they were all staring at a 3 foot long snake (probably poisonous if not, the kind that would definitely have bitten you) that was hanging from the tree. It was wriggling a little bit but had blood dripping out of its mouth. They had found the snake and clubbed him to death. Lucky for us, we could safely use the toilets again.
Friday morning I was running really late. I didn't get up till 7:30, the time I should have been leaving to get to the office on time. Oh well, I got ready and headed out in the rain to the main road. I am usually good about greeting people but this morning I encountered a very large group of men which was a little intimidating because they were all staring at me. Please understand, the stares are uncomfortable and usually if I am my overly cheery self, the men take that as a sign that they can be overly friendly and usually some kind of proposal ensues, most of them not so enticing. So I muttered a hello and shifted my umbrella so I wouldn't have to endure their gawking.
At the main road, I waited in the rain for a few minutes and finally a ride came and I made it to Enable village. I hopped out of the car and started down the dirt road, passed a few Gogo's and kids and greeted them all. I saw another group of men, this time only 3 but they were staring as well. So I started to distance myself by walking closer to the tree they were standing opposite of and was about 10 seconds from greeting them when I realized something was a miss. I was looking down as I passed them and noticed a river of red liquid under the tree. My eyes quickly traced the source of what turned out to be blood and stumbled when the whole picture registered in my head. The men standing there weren't just chatting to each other; one of them was wearing a white coat and must have been a local butcher. What caught me off guard was the massive dead cow, which I nearly collided with, hanging by its hind legs from the tree. You think I would have immediately noticed a huge carcass dripping blood but the cow was brown and the tree trunk brown and how was I supposed to know that this particular corner of the street, which I walk by at least twice a week, is where the poor cows come to their end. I quickly greeted the men and kept on my merry way. But I couldn't help and stop a few feet away and turn to stare at the strange picture. Finally a truck drove up and the men got to work loading the meat.
These are some of the things that kick start my mornings. Thought I would share the events of my week. It's a good thing that I'm not a vegetarian. Sorry for those who are…
Tuesday, March 20, 2007
art, hippos & solitude
Thoughts for the day…
I have found a fantastic retreat, right within my grasp and a few short hours away from my village. Tonight, I found myself wandering rooms where beautiful paintings by an English artist hung proudly but where they most certainly were not appreciated daily. As I drank my glass of red wine, I studied each one, drank in the detail and the strangeness portrayed. I walked amidst bookcases filled with books spanning all different genres; browsed authors from Barbara Kingslover to Bryce Courtney to Jane Eyre. Relics from different African countries sat on perfectly spotless granite end tables while the music from a classical symphony drifted through the air. I had this museum all to myself, reading, studying, drinking at my leisure, and yet so many walk right by and don't have the time to appreciate it every day. As an American, I longed to escape the fast paced lifestyle but am now acutely aware that it's a plague that affects so many beyond my original home borders and I can't simply run away from it. I realized just tonight, how easy it is to be swept right back into it. I've been to Johannesburg a handful of times before this trip and never once took the time to notice the paintings hanging in the house I stay at. There is something that happens the moment I step out of the car in the city and all the simple-ness of the village is immediately forgotten. It's so easy to be swept up in outings to the mall and shopping for a cute new pair of shoes or going to see a movie (don't get me wrong, I do enjoy those things, immensely).
In the village things are different. I like the uncomplicated daily routine; wake up without using an alarm, go to work, come home, go for a run, cook dinner, take a bath, read or write a letter, go to bed when I feel sleepy. I find myself fascinated by the comical habits of chickens or dizzy from dancing ring-around-the-rosy countless times or just content to sit and talk with my host mother Anna.
I am afraid of being lost amidst all the insanity again. Losing myself to all the modern conveniences and forgetting how nice it is to actually have time for hobbies or sitting and chatting with neighbors. Is it possible to marry the lifestyles when I go back? I can strive for it but the more my age dictates my adultness, the more hectic life becomes. I see it in all those who have forged the path ahead of me. Grad school, a family, work, all these things will eventually demand things of me, pull me in a million different directions. Maybe when that time comes, I will be ready. Maybe I won't and one day I will stumble upon a new retreat, stop and realize there is more fantastic art that I am glazing over. Then I'll really see it and appreciate it for what it is, a stolen moment of time that I shouldn't neglect or regret taking the time to truly enjoy where I are at that exact moment.
So here I am, sitting in my room in Johannesburg. Last week I felt the irritation that Peace Corps can so easily instill in their volunteers by attending a work shop on Life Skills Training. While a great excuse to meet up with my far away volunteer friends, it was poorly planned and in my opinion an utter waste of government money. The handbook I received is the best resource but they could have just mailed it. Besides that part, the past month and a half have been good. For National Condom Distribution Week, held during the week of Valentine's Day, I collaborated with some other volunteers and came up with a workshop for my orphans, which turned out to be a huge success. The kids were amazing. During each of the discussions, I was blown away with how willing they were to ask questions and talk about the myths they've heard about HIV/AIDS. By no means were these discussions perfectly run and I'm sure questions were left unasked but it was a start. I've had a hard time kick starting myself and actually doing more than just administrative things. I was afraid that whatever I would try wouldn't be perfect and that stopped me from actually moving forward. But I saw that it doesn't have to be perfect, if I wait too long for that perfection then I will suddenly be looking back on a wasted two years. Now I have a lot of things in the works and I'm excited to get more programs up and running at the centers. These are the moments when two years seem like it won't be enough time to do everything I want to do.
Along with work, I've been out and about for some local site-seeing. I got to meet the world famous hippo named Jessica! Not only did I get to meet her, I actually got to pet her, feed her sweet potatoes and coffee and plant a big wet kiss on her snout. It was amazing and definitely a rare opportunity.
I also went to Kruger National Park and camped for a night with a few friends. The animals I saw were amazing. Wild dogs are rare to see but we saw a small pack of them chasing an Impala. It was too far away for any pictures but through the binoculars you could see that they have huge ears that stick up. I haven't seen rhinos or lions yet but I'm sure there will be more trips to the park in the coming months. In case you were worried about the whole camera situation, I was able to get my camera fixed after the baboon incident. If you have a moment to appreciate some "art", you can check out my latest pictures on my Picasa website
I have found a fantastic retreat, right within my grasp and a few short hours away from my village. Tonight, I found myself wandering rooms where beautiful paintings by an English artist hung proudly but where they most certainly were not appreciated daily. As I drank my glass of red wine, I studied each one, drank in the detail and the strangeness portrayed. I walked amidst bookcases filled with books spanning all different genres; browsed authors from Barbara Kingslover to Bryce Courtney to Jane Eyre. Relics from different African countries sat on perfectly spotless granite end tables while the music from a classical symphony drifted through the air. I had this museum all to myself, reading, studying, drinking at my leisure, and yet so many walk right by and don't have the time to appreciate it every day. As an American, I longed to escape the fast paced lifestyle but am now acutely aware that it's a plague that affects so many beyond my original home borders and I can't simply run away from it. I realized just tonight, how easy it is to be swept right back into it. I've been to Johannesburg a handful of times before this trip and never once took the time to notice the paintings hanging in the house I stay at. There is something that happens the moment I step out of the car in the city and all the simple-ness of the village is immediately forgotten. It's so easy to be swept up in outings to the mall and shopping for a cute new pair of shoes or going to see a movie (don't get me wrong, I do enjoy those things, immensely).
In the village things are different. I like the uncomplicated daily routine; wake up without using an alarm, go to work, come home, go for a run, cook dinner, take a bath, read or write a letter, go to bed when I feel sleepy. I find myself fascinated by the comical habits of chickens or dizzy from dancing ring-around-the-rosy countless times or just content to sit and talk with my host mother Anna.
I am afraid of being lost amidst all the insanity again. Losing myself to all the modern conveniences and forgetting how nice it is to actually have time for hobbies or sitting and chatting with neighbors. Is it possible to marry the lifestyles when I go back? I can strive for it but the more my age dictates my adultness, the more hectic life becomes. I see it in all those who have forged the path ahead of me. Grad school, a family, work, all these things will eventually demand things of me, pull me in a million different directions. Maybe when that time comes, I will be ready. Maybe I won't and one day I will stumble upon a new retreat, stop and realize there is more fantastic art that I am glazing over. Then I'll really see it and appreciate it for what it is, a stolen moment of time that I shouldn't neglect or regret taking the time to truly enjoy where I are at that exact moment.
So here I am, sitting in my room in Johannesburg. Last week I felt the irritation that Peace Corps can so easily instill in their volunteers by attending a work shop on Life Skills Training. While a great excuse to meet up with my far away volunteer friends, it was poorly planned and in my opinion an utter waste of government money. The handbook I received is the best resource but they could have just mailed it. Besides that part, the past month and a half have been good. For National Condom Distribution Week, held during the week of Valentine's Day, I collaborated with some other volunteers and came up with a workshop for my orphans, which turned out to be a huge success. The kids were amazing. During each of the discussions, I was blown away with how willing they were to ask questions and talk about the myths they've heard about HIV/AIDS. By no means were these discussions perfectly run and I'm sure questions were left unasked but it was a start. I've had a hard time kick starting myself and actually doing more than just administrative things. I was afraid that whatever I would try wouldn't be perfect and that stopped me from actually moving forward. But I saw that it doesn't have to be perfect, if I wait too long for that perfection then I will suddenly be looking back on a wasted two years. Now I have a lot of things in the works and I'm excited to get more programs up and running at the centers. These are the moments when two years seem like it won't be enough time to do everything I want to do.
Along with work, I've been out and about for some local site-seeing. I got to meet the world famous hippo named Jessica! Not only did I get to meet her, I actually got to pet her, feed her sweet potatoes and coffee and plant a big wet kiss on her snout. It was amazing and definitely a rare opportunity.
I also went to Kruger National Park and camped for a night with a few friends. The animals I saw were amazing. Wild dogs are rare to see but we saw a small pack of them chasing an Impala. It was too far away for any pictures but through the binoculars you could see that they have huge ears that stick up. I haven't seen rhinos or lions yet but I'm sure there will be more trips to the park in the coming months. In case you were worried about the whole camera situation, I was able to get my camera fixed after the baboon incident. If you have a moment to appreciate some "art", you can check out my latest pictures on my Picasa website
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| Kruger National Park Feb 2007 |
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| Post baboon vacation pictures |
Wednesday, February 28, 2007
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