Overworked, Not Paid, and Completely Content With That

Being a Peace Corps volunteer is at some times exciting, other times mundane, and always exhausting. I cannot say that this is true for every one in the Peace Corps or even for my group as a whole, but for me, I have never worked harder in my life. While I am not building homes like I did with Habitat for Humanity or ripping small trees out of the earth like I did for ASB Florida, I am so challenged with the work I am doing because it is so much harder to constantly bend your mind than it is to break your back. I am at work right now during tea break/recess, and taking a moment to drink my cold instant coffee and write a little. This is one of the few times of the day when life is relatively quiet. When I say relatively quiet, I mean exactly that. There are fifty students with different disabilities ranging from autism, mental retardation, Downs syndrome, and cerebral palsy to disassociated language disorders, hearing impairment and limited sight disorders; and the majority of them are running around the school screaming, crying, squeaking, yelping, clapping, laughing, and/or jumping up and down. Screaming kids + recess = a very much needed tea break. At two o’clock today I will leave school, go the library to return my books/ get some quiet, pick up some groceries, visit the post office, and then return home to eight more excited children. While this is exhausting at times, it is not overwhelming.

I signed my contract for the Peace Corps having a few ideas of what I might be doing in Africa and this was not at all what I expected. This is FAR better than I could have ever imagined. I have never laughed and learned so much in my entire life as I have done here. Today marks the 100th day since I left home, as a very special somebody pointed out to me today. Today marks the day of 100 days unforgettable memories and unbelievable experiences. When people ask me what life is like for me here, I say “It’s great. I am having the time of my life and it is challenging” and all of those things are true. However, I realize that answer is fairly lame and unimaginative. It is just that it is so difficult to put into words how and what I do daily. Things that might seems insignificant in the States are a huge deal to me here and I try to explain my day or what I am up to and it just falls so short of helping people to understand this. For instance, the other day in the grocery store I asked for some bread in Zulu and also where to find better avocados and I got and understood the reply that was in Zulu. This might not be a big deal to many people who go to the grocery store and understand what is being said to them, but for me it was a great big deal when someone replied to me in Zulu even when they speak English. It made me feel more accepted and now every time that I go to Pick n’ Pay I talk to that lady in the bread aisle about her day and her family in my very lacking Zulu. Also, when I walk out of the store sometimes, people shout “Nqobile” and I wave to the teachers from my school or from my friends in eMondlo. This wouldn’t mean as much in the States where you see people you know everyday, but here, where I am a virtual stranger to almost everyone I see daily, it means the world for someone to notice me and take the time to say hello. It also makes my heart swell when I get home and have little Mpatho running up to me with his arms open wide screaming “Aunti Christi, you are here” and then he allows me to pick him up and swing him around while wrapped in a big bear hug. While I can’t be around my siblings to read them stories at bedtime or play with them outside, I had 21 other little ones that are a wonderful addition to my life and are entirely unique in their own ways. I really wish I could say something more substantial now but I must get back to work. Until then…