Sunday, March 23, 2008
Changing
I have learned that life in a developed country is something to be appreciated and question. As Americans, we should stop complaining when the bus is late or when the doctor only sees us for ten minutes when we are sick with a cold. Here, the bus might never come and sometimes people being tested and/or treated for HIV/AIDS see no doctor at all because there is not one available. At the same time, we must question what living in a developed country means. Take your sweater off for a minute and look at the label. Where was it made? Cambodia, China, United Arab Emirates, Honduras? Do you ever wonder how much those people are being paid and in what conditions are the working? Did they have to walk 5 miles to get to the factory and leave their young children to fend for themselves while they go off to make the only money that is to be made in their area? Do they face dangerous road conditions or crime on their way to work? These are issues that we simply do not really deal with in America. Yes, millions of people have it incredibly rough and are really struggling to make ends meet and to provide for their families in America. But take a look at developing countries like South Africa. The unemployment rate is 41% now and in the area in which I am living, over 38% of the population is infected with HIV/AIDS. Kwa-Zulu Natal is the area with more people living with HIV/AIDS than any other place on Earth. As Americans we cannot imagine what these statistics look like, but let me tell you how I see it.
In Limpopo, I hang out regularly with 8 teenage girls who come to practice English with me and learn about America. Not one of them has both parents still living. Most of them have neither living. One of my close family members here in SA is has to use crutches to walk to my house which is only four houses from his because he is simply too weak from TB which he has contracted after being diagnosed with AIDS. This weekend in Mondlo (my township) in KZN, my sister says there were between 12 and 15 funerals. One of the boys who comes to my new family’s house every night to hang out with us comes over at night because he is lonely at home since his parents both died last year. He is 18. He lives alone in their home. The numbers are startling and it seems that there is no natural limit to the virus. However, the numbers are not a profound as the personal stories and the lives that have been infected and affected by this virus. So please, feel not guilty when you lay you head down to sleep in your comfy bed in your nice home with heat, AC, electricity, running water, and other standard amenities because you have worked to have these things and you deserve to have them if you want them. However, please remember that life is not as easy in other parts of the world and millions with be going to sleep cold, hungry, and sick tonight. So, if you can do something to help, then do it. People are waiting.
I am not trying to sound bitter because I am happy to be here and I do miss my life in the States. However, I am dealing with so many different things here, both significant and not so, that it is difficult trying to manage them all at once. Sir Oliver Wendell Holmes put it best, “A mind that is stretched by a new experience can never go back to its old dimensions”. My mind is changing constantly and I am learning how to reconcile that daily. And I firmly believe that ALL Americans should have this experience. It really changes the way you see the world and see yourself. I am a far more grateful individual than I ever could have been before. Peace Corps has taught me not to see the glass as half empty, rather it has taught me to wonder “hey, I could bathe in that”.
Changing
I have learned that life in a developed country is something to be appreciated and question. As Americans, we should stop complaining when the bus is late or when the doctor only sees us for ten minutes when we are sick with a cold. Here, the bus might never come and sometimes people being tested and/or treated for HIV/AIDS see no doctor at all because there is not one available. At the same time, we must question what living in a developed country means. Take your sweater off for a minute and look at the label. Where was it made? Cambodia, China, United Arab Emirates, Honduras? Do you ever wonder how much those people are being paid and in what conditions are the working? Did they have to walk 5 miles to get to the factory and leave their young children to fend for themselves while they go off to make the only money that is to be made in their area? Do they face dangerous road conditions or crime on their way to work? These are issues that we simply do not really deal with in America. Yes, millions of people have it incredibly rough and are really struggling to make ends meet and to provide for their families in America. But take a look at developing countries like South Africa. The unemployment rate is 41% now and in the area in which I am living, over 38% of the population is infected with HIV/AIDS. Kwa-Zulu Natal is the area with more people living with HIV/AIDS than any other place on Earth. As Americans we cannot imagine what these statistics look like, but let me tell you how I see it.
In Limpopo, I hang out regularly with 8 teenage girls who come to practice English with me and learn about America. Not one of them has both parents still living. Most of them have neither living. One of my close family members here in SA is has to use crutches to walk to my house which is only four houses from his because he is simply too weak from TB which he has contracted after being diagnosed with AIDS. This weekend in Mondlo (my township) in KZN, my sister says there were between 12 and 15 funerals. One of the boys who comes to my new family’s house every night to hang out with us comes over at night because he is lonely at home since his parents both died last year. He is 18. He lives alone in their home. The numbers are startling and it seems that there is no natural limit to the virus. However, the numbers are not a profound as the personal stories and the lives that have been infected and affected by this virus. So please, feel not guilty when you lay you head down to sleep in your comfy bed in your nice home with heat, AC, electricity, running water, and other standard amenities because you have worked to have these things and you deserve to have them if you want them. However, please remember that life is not as easy in other parts of the world and millions with be going to sleep cold, hungry, and sick tonight. So, if you can do something to help, then do it. People are waiting.
I am not trying to sound bitter because I am happy to be here and I do miss my life in the States. However, I am dealing with so many different things here, both significant and not so, that it is difficult trying to manage them all at once. Sir Oliver Wendell Holmes put it best, “A mind that is stretched by a new experience can never go back to its old dimensions”. My mind is changing constantly and I am learning how to reconcile that daily. And I firmly believe that ALL Americans should have this experience. It really changes the way you see the world and see yourself. I am a far more grateful individual than I ever could have been before. Peace Corps has taught me not to see the glass as half empty, rather it has taught me to wonder “hey, I could bathe in that”.
Saturday, March 15, 2008
Almost Done
Saturday, March 8, 2008
Village Life So Far
Okay enough of this intro business. This is how my experience has been. I arrive in South Afrika on Jan 31 and stayed at a college in Mokopane in the Limpopo province for ten days. There my group began forming friendships that I am sure are going to last for a very long time. We learned about safety and security measures, received countless injections, studied Afrikaans and Sepedi, and gained a tremendous amount of knowledge on apartheid.
Then, we moved to Bakenburg and the surrounding villages with our new families. My family is fantastic! As mentioned in the previous blog, I have two brothers (one who lives at school), three sisters, one mom, and a gogo (grandmother) living in one house. Actually my gogo lives down the street with my uncle and other gogo who are both very ill. My mom is certifiably insane and I love her for it. She is as crazy as me and it is fantastic! From the very first day I moved in she has treated me like a daughter. She yells at me when my hair looks crazy or when my clothes need to be ironed. She tells me she loves me and calls me fat in the same sentence. Then she tries to feed me because “you too little”. She hands me a broom while telling me to wash the dishes. She doesn’t let me call her Momma Francina, only Momma and won’t talk to me unless I call her Momma. She is awesome and I love her! I also love my gogo who laughs at nearly everything I do, especially when I do laundry, attempt to cook, or try miserably to speak Sepedi. My host sister is a blessing from God. She is my culture and language translator and makes me so happy! She is one of my best friends here and I will be sad to move away from her in less than a month. She is teaching me to dance and trust me, that is hilarious. White people just should not try to mimic African dancing. It just doesn’t work. I would know..I see me.
Ngifunda IsiZulu kodwa ngihlala eLimpopo. I said I am learning Zulu but living in Limpopo, which is a Sepedi speaking area which presents daily communication issues. But if you saw me on the street you would think I am deaf because I gesture so many things in order to communicate now. I spend about 9 hours a day in class learning Zulu and Peace Corps info. I love my group because we are so diverse in our personalities. It is fabulous. Here is how a typical day of mine goes….
6:00 AM Wake up and take put away mosquito net and get ready for school.
7:45 Leave house and walked ten minutes to language
8-10:30 Learn Zulu
11:00 Train at center
1:00 Lunch
2:00-5:00 Train and Zulu
5:00 Get driven to tar road and then walk 25 minutes home
6:00- 7:00 Help make dinner, kill snakes, chase rooster for fun, play with neighborhood kids, and make my family laugh
7-8: Dinner
8:00 Generations…soap opera..yes I know
8:30-9:15 Heat water, pour in bucket, take bath, go outside and dump water
10:00 Get net out and kill all cockroaches in room and go to bed
I killed a snake this week. I was in the kitchen cutting cucumbers in the kitchen when I thought I saw something out of the side of my eye. I looked down and though “Wow that is a big worm”. Then I thought “Wow that worm slithers”. This is when I realized it was not a big worm, but was in fact small snake… not cool. So I yelled for my sister..she bug sprayed is and I flashlighted it and then we killed it with a shoe. Then my host brother runs in and throw water all over the floor. I say “Surprise (brother), why did you do that?” My sister says “It is the water of the church”. Then my mom runs in butt naked from her bath and yells “Tell me Manakedi!” So I tell her what happened and she says “Where is the mother?” So now I am constantly aware that a big mother snake is probably missing her baby. Hopefully she will stay away. Snakes are no good here and so South Afrikans kill them always.
It is nearly impossible to me to get to my house without ten little children following me home and insisting that I play with them for at least an hour no matter how exhausted I may be. So, I tried to sneak into the house through the corn field and I was almost home free yesterday, but one of them was waiting behind the toilet and caught me…I give up. So now my fan club has grown from five kids, to seven, and yesterday there were twelve. They touch my skin, play with my hair, and teach me songs, dances, and clapping games…they are awesome and they do not care that I don’t speak their language...they get me and in an odd way I am glad that they constantly harass me and walk me home everyday.
There is so much more I would like to say but I really must get off the computer before I run up to high of a bill…I only make $15 USD here a week. I am in love with South Afrika and I am terribly missing my family and friends. I wish we could all be experiencing this together, but I am learning so much on my own and I am becoming a better person everyday because of this experience. Thank you so much for you continuously support and love. Keep those letters and e-mails coming! I will answer e-mails and such when I get more time.
Uthando (love)…Christi Manakedi Nqobile (there is a click in there) Kekana Gibson
Saturday, March 1, 2008
The First of Many
In the past 30 days, I have milked a cow, chased a rooster, took 150 photos, talked to kids in a language that I do not understand, took various walks around my community and greeted just about everyone I came into contact with. I am living a Sepedi speaking area but I am learning Zulu so I communicate mostly in greetings and other small phrases with my community. However, next month I will be moving to KZN and will be speaking Zulu and English. I live in a rural village/town called Motong, which is a part of Bakenburg. My fellow PCTs and I are the only white people in the village so we get a ton of stares, excited waves, greetings, and a million kids that follow us home just because they want to play with us. I am having a blast. I am sorry if I can only get a few pics up because this picture uploading is taking ten million years.
I am trying to read all of the e-mails I am receiving and I wish I could respond to them, but this blogging thing is making more sense now because this is only my first internet cafe trip. I promise I will try to write more next week. I just wanted all of you to know that I am alive and well and that is you have any questions please call Nida or my family because they are receiving letters from me that explain my experiences more in depth. I miss and love you all!!!
Until later..
Monday, January 28, 2008
On the Verge
After a largely successful and humorous PC two-day staging extravaganza we are about to get on our way to
Being at staging is surreal. It is a sentiment that has been passed around a lot these few days. We have been waiting so long to finally get going and now the moment is finally here. It is a triumphant beginning. We waited months, some of us years, in the application process to finally step foot here…triumph. We passed the very intrusive and exhausting barrage of medical, dental, and eye tests…triumph. We wrestled with our luggage and packed and re-packed until we simply could not do it anymore….triumph. We said our tearful see-ya-laters to the friends and family that supported us enough to get us here and still managed to tear ourselves away to get on the plane…triumph. We navigated the murky waters of breaking the ice and getting to know other PC Trainees while undergoing almost 15 hours of training sessions…..triumph. We have accomplished so much in such a short amount of time and will soon conquer many more feats as the days progress.
This is it. I have waited for this and I am ready. Yesterday was tough and today was better….no, make that wonderful. I am by far the luckiest person I know to have this opportunity to serve but I am also going to miss my friends and family more than I can express. So any letters or packages would be greatly appreciated. You could be my best friend for life…well until the next letter comes from the next person and then they are my new best friend, but you can regain the BFF status by sending more packages or writing Nida and requesting such a status…you see the pattern…let’s make it happen folks. Don’t be offended when I do not respond or write back for the first few weeks. Communication back to the States is going to be difficult…at best…so I can only do so much. But I promise to keep in contact as much as I can.
On a heavier note though, if you are reading this please pray for my friend Elena and her family. They have suffered a great loss this week with the sudden death of her mother. Any and all prays will help.
Until next time…