Kusasa

I got a new cat! And he's sitting on my lap as I type this.



His name is Kusasa (which means "tomorrow" in Siswati), and he was previously the cat of a volunteer from the group that came just before us.
- She finished her service and needed a place for Kusasa to go.
- I've desperately wanted a cat.
Sometimes the world just makes sense.

I had to come into Pretoria this weekend for other reasons, and so it was a convenient time for me to pick up Kusasa.
Keep in mind that Pretoria is about a 6 hour public taxi journey from my place of residence.
Also keep in mind that most Africans that I have met have a deep hatred/fear of cats.

Yesterday, I picked Kusasa up from a friend. Another friend was going to the same taxi rank as I was, so she was waiting in the cab while I picked him up. I had little time to make friendly with this poor cat. His first real introduction was me stuffing him into a cardboard box and taking him into a series of terrifying vehicles.

Upon entering the rank and finding the taxi to Mafikeng, I observed more than one sideways glance at the box with a ginger cat's head sticking out of it.

Boy, I tell you what- my adrenaline was pumping at that point.
I honestly did not know if I was going to be able to take this cat on the taxi with me. I didn't know what his temperament was like. If he was anything like some of the cats I've owned before, this was going to be some serious trouble.

I climbed into the taxi, and ... well, to be honest, I got about the same response as I usually do.
Apparently, a white chick with a cat on a public taxi is not a whole lot more sensational than a white chick without a cat on a public taxi. Only this time, people mostly talked about the cat instead of me being white.

I tried to keep Kusasa covered, so as to avoid any potential hysteria that his presence might induce. It is not uncommon for people to think of cats as evil, or tools of witchcraft here.

Fortunately, I ended up sitting next to a delightful old lady who thought the situation was perfectly comical. I was inclined to agree with her. We went off, and at that point no one had expressed any serious complaints about the cat being in the taxi.

During the ride, Kusasa hyperventilated some, but for the most part he was very well behaved. He was adamant about not being boxed in and being able to watch the landscape go by. That was fine by me, but it meant that he was exposed.

I believe that the taxi driver first became aware of his presence when we stopped halfway at the gas station and he saw his little head peeping out. He went off on a tangent in Setswana about how much he hated cats and how displeased he was about the situation. I apologized and explained that I had no other choice.
Another good natured older woman who was getting out of the taxi mentioned something to him in Setswana that I could only imagine was along the lines of "you know how those white people are with their pets."
Anyway, I bought the driver a coke and I think that placated him a bit.


We reached my ouse, and he acclimated to my place very quickly.
Within minutes of him being in my room, he recovered from the traumatic experience and started purring under my loving caress.
I believe Kusasa's going to fit very nicely into my world here.
We even have our litterboxes next to each other's.



I think we've got a good thing going here.

Don't Y'all Worry

So I got a note of concern from a couple of people regarding my last entry. Please, allow me to reaffirm that I am just fine.
Serving here in South Africa is hard, but that's what I signed up for.

I know that I've reflected a bit on this previously, but I have an incredible amount of privilege.
One of the weightier aspects of privilege that tends to dominate my thoughts is the fact that I can leave whenever I want to.
If at any point I want to go home, I can just call Peace Corps. Once they get the call, they will come pick me up, and I can be out of the country in a matter of days.

That simple fact alone sets me apart from those in my village. It's something I have acknowledged from the beginning- but the longer I stay, the more I realize how pervasive that factor is in my life here.
And while it is sometimes hard to accept that I am presented with this advantage simply on account of the circumstances I was born into- I am presented with an opportunity to make a choice. Every day.
Every day that I wake up and remain here- it is my choice. Though sometimes it is not always obvious why it is the case- ultimately, I want to be here.

Okay, I hope that put some people at ease.
Love you all! Over and out.

Isolation

Let me tell you a little story about last night.
Last night was a rough night.
While serving in Peace Corps often leads to a profound sense of belonging and a sense of solidarity with humanity, it just as often leads to feelings of intense isolation. At least, that has been the case for me.

For various reasons, I have lately felt very ... alone in life. But this is nothing new.
Throughout my adolescence and most of my adult life, I've carried with me a profound sense of being alone. (Yes, even despite my incredible family and friends.)
I wont get into any existential ramblings here. But I will just say that I knew that this was something that I would have to confront even further in my Peace Corps service, and that it was a very big factor in why I joined.
I wanted to explore my sense of isolation further, because even though it can be difficult and painful- acknowledging that I'm alone in this life has, in a way, provided me with tremendous inner strength.

That being said, I knew it would be hard. But knowing ahead of time that something will be hard ... well, it doesn't make it any easier, now does it?



Anyway, like I said, last night was rough.
I was in bed, quite sad.

As I was laying there and thinking to myself something along the lines of "oh woe is me, life is so hard, buuuhuuuhuuuu," the map above my bed slowly started to fall off of the wall.
It slid down and landed squarely on my back.
The symbolism was just too much for me, and, not bothering to move myself or the map, I burst into a fit of laughter.
It was a tipping point. I laid like that for about ten minutes, just soaking it all in.

I felt like I had the weight of the world on my shoulders, and all this time, all I had to do was stick it back on the wall.

(Because it was just a map. Maps aren't that heavy.)

On the Road Again

I'm sitting here at my computer, stalling. I need to wash my clothes before I hit the road tomorrow.

Normally, I hire a woman from the village to do my laundry (that's right, I'm soooo bourgeoisie), but it's short notice, and I don't have a lot of clothes to do. Plus, it's mostly underwear that needs washing and it is BAD MANNERS to get someone else to wash your skivvies. I'm okay with this, because, well, I mean, just ... it's kinda personal anyway, you know?

I'll be going to the training of the new volunteers. They've come in just about three weeks or so ago.

I'm looking forward to meeting the new group. There's obviously something about the nature of Peace Corps that draws a generally respectable crowd. It'll also be interesting to relive, through them, the anxieties and challenges that we all faced at the start.

I remember meeting PCVs from the previous groups that came into our own training. It was encouraging, because most of them gave the impression of being comfortable, confident and solid in their service. It gave me hope that I could be there one day as well.


I like to think that I've adjusted well to my life here.
I FEEL adjusted.
I don't really know how else to measure adjustment, though. I mean, I eat liver and onions now, for crying out loud.
I don't even veer away from the donkeys when I walk past them. (They're like part of the landscape. A very loud, ridiculous part of the landscape.)
I can tell you everything that is going on in Generations (the favorite South African soapie).
And perhaps most impressively, I can squash a random man's marriage proposal, in Setswana, in under 10 seconds flat- sometimes I can even crack jokes and get them to laugh while I'm doing it.

I guess even if I don't fix the world, at least I'm having a good time trying.

The "Threat Food"

Once upon a time, when I was just a wee lassie, my mother used to threaten me.
I would ask her, "Mom, what's for dinner??" and she would respond, "liver and onions!" to which I would shrivel up my nose in disgust and go, "ewwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww."

Fast forward to September, 2007. It is the end of my Pre-Service Training for the Peace Corps in South Africa, and I am on my site visit (the first time that I got to see my new home, Setlagole). I am staying at my principal's house, and it is time to cook dinner. I figured I would endear myself to her a little, and cook dinner for us. I ask her what I should cook. She tells me that there are some chicken livers in the freezer. Hmmm.

Well, I had never cooked chicken livers before, so I ask how I should prepare them. She tells me I should cut up an onion and fry them together. (Understand that I hated onions up until coming here to South Africa)

So there I was
cooking up some liver and onions

the food that my mother used to amuse herself with by threatening to cook it for us for dinner


the food that I later used to threaten the children that I worked with for snack time.




But guess what, everybody? It's actually pretty delicious.

It's Been a While ...

So it has been some time since my last update, I guess. I got a subtle hint from my father that it was time to update when he forwarded me an email sent to him by a concerned friend. Well played, dad.

I suppose I will start by explaining just why I haven't updated for so long. First and foremost, I hadn't any access to a computer for the past two weeks- but before that is a different story.
Last month, I'd say I was something close to depressed. Not depressed in the way I once was, but rather, I had lost my enthusiasm. I was frustrated with work because I felt like I was getting nothing done (a rather justified feeling). I was empathetically hurt by the suffering and pain of the people of this country, and in neighboring Zimbabwe. I felt debilitated and isolated by the cultural divide between myself and the people around me. I knew I was in a bad head space, and just didn't feel like writing about all that to my family and friends who are reading this blog.

The past two weeks for my vacation I went to another Vipassana Meditation course. It is a course that is ten days long, and of those ten you cannot speak for 9 of them. You learn three techniques of meditation, and during those ten days, you do a sort of deep operation to purify your mind.

I learned about this Vipassana while I was in India with my mother, and we visited one of her friends that my parents worked with at an orphanage several years ago. Her name was Mrs. Modok, and she was by far one of the most amazing people I've ever met. Immediately, you felt a presence that was at peace with herself and the world. She radiated compassion. I wanted to be like Mrs. Modok (and I still do). I found out that she runs a center for Vipassana in Pune, and that that is her method for turning awesome.

I had to try it, and I did. It was the best thing I have ever done, and it is the best thing that I will continue to do. I just finished my fourth course, which was so important for me to take here. I let go of a lot of anger and frustration. I feel far more at peace, and I have regained the drive for my work. I am much more equipped to take on my job. It may simply be that I am more at peace with my limited power to do anything here, but that perspective has empowered me to at least do what I can. Just last month, I was about paralyzed with frustration. Now here I am, ready to go.

I'm meeting this Saturday with my Peer Mentors again. They are some of the most fantastic kids I have ever met, and I firmly believe that they're the reason I'm here.

A few months ago, when we first started exploring the subject of HIV, they got so inspired by this newfound understanding of the virus and how it spread that one of them raised his hand and said, "Can we make a resolution? Can we resolve to put on some kind of awareness campaign or testing drive?" It was far and away the most profoundly awesome experience that I have had here. I will never forget that moment, or Godfrey for as long as I live.

So this Saturday, we'll be meeting to start planning our event.


It is really nice to have my motivation back.

Current Events

Hello all.
I imagine that a number of you have seen or heard about some of the conflict going on down here in SA. For those of you who aren't aware, this link may give you a little glimpse:

SA leader orders army to deploy

If you're reading this blog, I assume that that means that you care about me/my welfare to one certain degree or another. (Thanks for that, by the way.)
I just wanted to put everyone's mind at ease, and let you know that I am okay, and I will be okay.

There is a website for volunteers and for incoming volunteers to SA to interact before they come. A place for them to ask for information, establish communication with one another and voice concerns. One of the incoming volunteers understandably asked about our safety in regards to these events, and I took some time to write out a pretty thorough response. I am just going to paste that response here, because it hits on some major explanations, issues and will hopefully shed a little more light on what is happening.

Keep in mind that it is written for people who are a few months away from coming here and serving themselves:



First and foremost: speaking as a volunteer in a rural area, I am not seeing any of this violence that is making the headlines. Of course it's extremely concerning, disappointing and depressing, but my life is largely unaffected.
Definitely, there are issues with xenophobia here. I have heard xenophobic remarks from people in my daily interactions but there hasn't been any action on those sentiments. Some volunteers struggle more or less than others regarding this issue depending on their site.

The aggression seems to be mostly focused on other African immigrants. This is happening for a few reasons. As a result of the economic situation in this country, unemployment is high, and unskilled jobs are both scarce and coveted. African immigrants are being seen as taking those jobs. Further, many immigrants (especially from Zimbabwe) have been made scapegoats for many of the crimes being committed in the area. Of course, there is some legitimacy to these claims, considering their situation in their home country and the desperation that many are faced with.

This, compounded with the fact that black South Africans are still affected by a psychological legacy of oppression. After generations of Apartheid, it is not going to go quickly either. It is far and away one of the most difficult phenomenons that you will deal with when you come here.


Keeping the aforementioned in mind, Americans are not the target. Americans generally are not seen as competition, but instead looked at as bringing in opportunity and skill. The whole situation sucks and can be disheartening, but I do not feel that my safety has been compromised by the current events.

Furthermore, I have faith that Peace Corps has a grasp on the situation- they are in contact with us when they need to be, and we have all been briefed on emergency plans, god-forbid we ever need them. I truly do not imagine that we will.


Of course, I am speaking as a white female living in a rural area (but I don't speak for all of them). I think it would be valuable to hear from some African American PCVs (or of any other race) and also some PCVs living in more urban sites to see how they have been affected or not-affected.



All of that being said, I wanted to comment on the psychological impact that these events have had on me. I don't know how much these sentiments are echoed in other volunteers, so I can only speak for myself.

Serving in South Africa is hard. It is a country that is in an incredible transition period. As I mentioned before, there is a very powerful legacy of oppression that you will run up against time and time again. There have been times when I thought to myself, or even to aloud other volunteers "God, why didn't they send me to Ghana or Zambia or something?"
On the other hand, I've come to a point where I've realized that I wouldn't trade my assignment given the choice. We have a unique experience here- living in a place with so much complexity and so many interesting facets. It has transformed me, and opened my eyes up to several realities that I never would have been exposed to anywhere else. Absolutely, my village is influenced by what's going on in the rest of the country and what's going on (or not going on) in the government; but for the most part ... it's just my village. People here are living their lives. People are surviving, growing, dying, and carrying on in their own way. I have had some rough experiences, and some amazing experience. More importantly, I have learned some extremely valuable lessons.


Bottom line: it hasn't been easy, and in all likelihood, it wont be easy for you either. There will be times when you question your purpose here, or your effectiveness, or whether or not you think it is worth sticking around. I think it is important to be honest with yourself as to whether or not you are up to serving here- but I also think it's important to hear that there are people here who think that it is worth all the trouble and heartache.