Sanibonani and congratulations on your invitation! Now that all the paperwork is done, you have time to obsess about packing and all the other things you have to do before June 20-somethingth when you leave for staging. Let the panic begin! You’ll be getting a “staging packet” sometime between now and when you leave, but just in case you’re anything like I was last year and you want to know NOW what you’ve gotten yourself into, maybe this will help.
First things first: Swaziland. Hopefully you know that it’s a tiny little country in Southern Africa between Mozambique and South Africa with a nearly 100% homogenous Swazi population. It’s an absolute monarchy led by His Majesty King Mswati III (one of the richest political leaders in the world), who took the throne in 1986, and there is a fledgling movement toward democracy that probably will not be realized until the king dies since political parties are technically illegal. It’s a very conservative country politically, religiously and culturally. Just about everyone you meet is Christian (sometimes belligerently so) and you will be asked probably every day if you have “been saved.” (It’s not so bad, though. I’m not Christian and I’ve made it this far.) Especially in the rural areas, women have very few rights (including the right to wear pants) and female volunteers will learn very quickly how to diffuse sexual harassment. A lot of traditional beliefs also still exist in the rural areas, including some beliefs that are particularly helpful in spreading HIV (like the cutting of babies with a razor blade, polygamy, traditional healers who use blood-letting to cure things, traditional healers who say they can cure HIV, multiple concurrent sexual partners even for married men, intergenerational sex, etc.) In the rural areas, most people are unemployed and survive on subsistence farming and animal husbandry. The education system is the exam-based model typical of former British colonies with lots of problems: it’s expensive and therefore inaccessible to many people in rural areas, teachers become teachers mostly because of guaranteed employment and not because they love teaching, there’s a high failure rate so many students don’t complete high school until their mid-20s, there’s no continuous assessment so students don’t do homework, there are frequently strikes of teachers and/or students for silly things, etc. Hopefully you also know that Swaziland has the highest rate of HIV of any country in the world, which is somewhere between 26% and 43% depending on what statistic you’re using. There are a lot of problems created by HIV, too, including the prevalence of OVCs (orphans and vulnerable children), restructuring of the traditional family, kids who can’t go to school because they are needed to take care of sick relatives, etc. Medical care in most communities is lacking, and even where it’s considered “good” the services offered are very basic and some patients have to walk many hours to get to the clinic. Anti-retroviral therapy (ART) is technically free for all people with a CD4 count below 200, but all patients must go to 1 of 6 ART initiation centers for the first 3 months of their treatment, which is financially impossible for many rural Swazis. All things considered, Swaziland is considered a “middle income country,” meaning that it’s ineligible for a lot of foreign assistance that’s only made available to poorer countries. If you took the royal family out of the equation, though, Swaziland is a low income country. There are a lot of NGOs and IOs that work here, including UNESCO, World Food Program, Doctors without Borders (MSF), Elizabeth Glaser, World Vision, USAID, UNAIDS, Baylor Clinic, etc.
Swaziland is a completely unique country, which lends itself to a completely unique Peace Corps experience. First of all, Swaziland is small, which means that the 50 or so volunteers who are here at the same time are really close geographically and otherwise. I think we all live within an hour of another volunteer and we’re all within 3 hours of the office and the “big city” of Mbabane. Since all of us are Community Health and HIV/AIDS Education volunteers, we are able to work together on some projects and to share programming ideas with each other. (Or, if you don’t want to hang out or work with other people, that’s an option too.) The in-country staff is really great and very supportive of and patient with all the ridiculous logistical, programming, cultural, linguistic, medical and otherwise random questions you could possibly think to ask. And, since the country is small, they’re really accessible. Even though we’re all, technically, doing the same job, your actual work depends largely on what you want to do and what your community is willing to work with you on. For example, some of us teach Life Skills (HIV/AIDS, nutrition, decision-making, goal-setting, career planning, drugs and alcohol, etc.) at primary or high schools, some work with a local person to do workshops and mobile testing in their communities, some work with church leaders to do HIV education, some work with other NGOs to produce educational materials or run after-school programs, some run sports or drama clubs to teach youth about HIV and others volunteer at a clinic. You can do any combination of those things, or whatever else you’re comfortable doing. (And, trust me, by the time you get to your community you’ll be comfortable with a lot more than you think you are now.) Just know that, in all likelihood, nobody is going to show up and invite you to do these things. You have to be really self-motivated to find work in most communities, but once you do it’s really rewarding. And once you get to know your community it’s not as difficult as it sounds, either!
As far as living conditions, we all live on homesteads with Swazi families. A traditional “homestead” houses an extended family, usually including a Babe (father), Make (mother) or two (polygamy, remember?), lots of kids and maybe grandparents, and consists of several buildings in a cluster of sorts. (With the high death rate this has changed a lot, so most of us have a big homestead consisting of a mix of remaining parts of several nuclear families.) Most of us have our own 1 or 2 room cement houses with a tin or thatch roof, but a few have a room or 2 connected to the main house (with their own entrance for security and privacy reasons). More than 50% of us have electricity (this is high for PC Africa), and some who don’t have electricity have a solar panel on their roof that charges a car battery that they use to run a light and/or computer (you can buy all of that here!). Even if you “have electricity,” sometimes it won’t work (like when it’s raining), so even though I have electricity I still have a back-up lantern and gas stove. We get our water from boreholes, rainwater collection or from “Jojo” tanks on the homestead (which a company will come out and fill), and since we don’t have running water we use a pit latrine and bathe in a basin. (Trust me, it’s easier than it seems.)
Depending on what you want to spend, where you live and how much work you want to do, you can pretty much eat whatever you want while you’re here. For the first part of training, you’ll be fed by your host family, which means you’ll be eating maize-meal porridge or rice, boiled chicken and some sort of overcooked vegetable (carrots, cabbage, spinach, pumpkin or beets) for dinner every night. You’ll probably have corn flakes with warm milk or oatmeal for breakfast and an egg sandwich for lunch, but you’ll be in town often enough to feed yourself real food. Once you move to site, you’ll be cooking on your own so you can eat whatever you’re willing to make. I eat a lot of pasta, grilled cheese, eggs, popcorn, PB&J sandwiches, fruit, rice and vegetables, toast, oatmeal and corn flakes, and if I have guests I cook meat. Some of us have refrigerators, but those of us who don’t just eat perishable things quickly so they don’t spoil or (like me) use their family’s fridge. A few of us also have vegetable gardens, and you can pretty much grow anything if you have the energy to goat-proof and consistently upkeep your garden. If you’re a vegetarian, the first couple of weeks may be difficult for you since nobody is going to understand what a vegetarian is, but once you’re on your own it will be absolutely no problem. If you don’t eat MSG you’ll have a harder time, since there’s MSG in absolutely everything. One challenge I have had here is in getting enough dairy in my diet, since Swazis don’t drink milk unless it’s spoiled (“emasi” they call it…ew). The medical office in Mbabane can give you calcium supplements (and anything else you will ever need, really), and at site you can drink and cook with powdered milk, which is kind of gross. In town (Nhlangano, Manzini, Mbabane, Matata) you can buy just about anything at the grocery store, and the grocery stores around Mbabane have a wide selection of things you can splurge on once a month if you want (brie). Also, Swaziland is great if you like avocados (there are about 6 kinds here and they’re really cheap) or mangoes (there are about 6 kinds here and they’re really cheap).
As far as wardrobe (this is where we get into what you should pack), it varies widely from one region to another and from one volunteer to the next. Which doesn’t help at all, I know. Swaziland is divided into 4 regions—Shiselweni, Lubombo, HhoHho and Manzini—and the climate depends on your region and your proximity to the mountains. HhoHho is rainy and cold, but still gets hot in the summer. Lubombo is hot and dry (we’re talking 115F) during the summer, but can get cool on winter nights. Shiselweni and Manzini regions are pretty moderate, with cooler temperatures in the mountains and more heat in the lowveld. Basically, there’s no way to plan for where you’ll be or what you need to wear while you’re here! Generally speaking, you should probably plan for anything from 30F (and when you live in a cement refrigerator and the cold is inescapable, 30F is a lot worse than in the US) to really hot (like 80 to 110F).
For Ladies: Generally speaking (and definitely during training), you SHOULD wear skirts that fall below the knee every day in your community, particularly if you’re doing anything in an official capacity. (Honestly, you don’t HAVE to but it’s strongly recommended, it’s considered disrespectful to wear pants and if you wear pants you’ll be the only one in your community.) This means if you’re teaching, introducing yourself to your community or anyone important, working at your chief’s homestead or doing any other work-related thing where you want people to take you seriously, pants are not allowed (especially the first few months). Fun, right? On your homestead it’s okay to wear pants (“trousers” as they call them) or capris, but when it’s hot outside you’re not really going to want to wear jeans with the amount of walking and sweating you’ll be doing. If you’re not comfortable wearing skirts, you can probably wear pants in your community after they’ve realized how un-Swazi you are in general, but you NEED a few good skirts! As far as tops go, boobs and shoulders aren’t sexy so you can pretty much wear whatever you want, including tank tops or tight shirts, in your community. The only exception is on the chief’s homestead or in church, where you’ll be expected to cover your shoulders. Generally when I’m working I wear below-the-knee skirts and nicer T-shirts (t-shirts with decorative necks, polo shirts or something else you would consider “business casual”) with flip-flops, and when it’s colder I have cardigans or long-sleeved shirts (tees, light sweaters, jacket-type things, etc.) to wear over my warm-weather outfits. Also, and I can’t believe I’m actually recommending this to you: leggings! I would never wear them in the US, but in Swaziland they are really handy to wear under skirts during the winter because it gets cold! Under ankle-length skirts you can wear pants to keep warm, but shorter skirts are more professional-looking with leggings. Since the weather is so unpredictable, layers are key! For exercising, shorts are fine as long as they’re knee-length and yoga pants or capris are perfect. Married women will sometimes be expected to cover their heads with wraps or hats (which you can buy here) as a sign of respect, especially in official community meetings where the chief or the chief’s inner council are present. (Don’t worry about this now!) For shoes, you can pretty much wear whatever you’d like. Most of us wear flip-flops or Chacos or Keens all the time (my Chaco Flips are my favorite shoes ever), and if you are buying any of those things let them know you’re a Peace Corps Volunteer because they’ll give you a discount! You should also bring nicer shoes (flats!) for important meetings or the first few weeks of training or when it’s cold, and maybe heels if you want to go “out” sometimes, but honestly every “club” here is pretty casual so it’s not really necessary.
For men, the dress code is a lot more relaxed. Guys can pretty much wear casual-ish khakis or even jeans in community for meetings, and shorts for less formal work-related things. Polo shirts or t-shirts are fine, but sometimes (training and meetings) more formal dress shirts will be required (but not a lot of them!). Dress shoes are good, but they don’t need to be anything fancy. Again, layers are key!! For dressier occasions, you can bring a jacket if you want but if you don’t have one I’m 99% sure you’ll never wish you had one. (Same for women, actually.) Since they don’t take up much space, maybe bring a tie or two just in case you need to dress up (for swear-in, definitely).
One thing that I wish I knew before I came (and Group 5 told me, I just didn’t listen) is that it gets cold. Cold, cold, cold. The winter here is June to August-ish, and even though it only gets down to 30F or so at night, it seems a lot more miserable than in the US because it’s absolutely inescapable. I’d DEFINITELY recommend bringing a fleece of sorts or a heavier hoodie or SOMETHING to keep yourself warm. My North Face Denali (they’re cheap on Ebay) is maybe my favorite article of clothing I have here.
Before you come, you’ll get a video and a packing list from Peace Corps so you’ll have a better idea of what to pack. I would say the crucial items are a fleece, Leatherman or similar tool, a backpack large enough to travel for a week (35-50 liters?), a quick-dry towel, headlamp, leggings (for women), and LAPTOP (if you have one). You should DEFINITELY bring your computer if you have one and if you’re not going to be heartbroken if it gets damaged by the power flow or dust…it makes it so much easier to write blogs, grant proposals, quarterly reports for Peace Corps and any other work-related things you have to do. You’ll be provided with a water filter so you don’t need to bring one of those (but a SteriPen might be useful when you travel if you already have one), and solar chargers aren’t really too necessary. You’ll buy a phone here so you don’t need to bring one from home. Just keep in mind that you’re moving here for your job, you’re not going camping, so you don’t need a whole lot of outdoorsy things. Bring clothes you’re comfortable in and things you’re used to using! And don’t tell Peace Corps I told you this, but the only baggage restrictions you really have are the ones provided by the airline, so if your total linear dimensions are over 63” but still within the allowable range for the airline, you’re fine! Just mind the weight because you’ll have to haul them around for a while…
All things considered, Swaziland is a pretty cool place. There’s enough South African influence here that you can buy just about anything you’d need in Mbabane or Manzini, but enough traditional culture that it’s still a completely new experience. Don’t stress over the details (or the siSwati), but if you have any questions at all, ASK! We’re all really excited to meet you and good luck with all the preparations that you’ll be doing between now and then…
Hambani kahle na Inhlanhla Lenhle!
Justine / Phindile
Showing posts with label Peace Corps. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Peace Corps. Show all posts
Saturday, March 7, 2009
Saturday, January 24, 2009
My President Has a Last Name, It's O-B-A-M-A
In an attempt to feel productive, this past Monday (the 19th) I made the trek up to Mbabane to use the internet to research grad schools and to watch the Inauguration of the first president I’ve ever voted for. It was a nice vacation from my otherwise uneventful life.
On Tuesday night, about 20 of my fellow PCVs gathered at a “Greek restaurant” (they served Indian food) for a sports bar-style viewing of the Inauguration. We got there at about 5:00 our time (the inauguration started at 7:00 our time) to get the best seats in the house, and by 6:30 the restaurant and bar areas were PACKED with Americans of all sorts—Peace Corps Volunteers, aid workers, UN workers, MSF people, etc. And I don’t think there was a Republican in the bunch. For that demographic, I think the Inauguration is a bigger deal than the Super Bowl, so we spent the evening clapping, cheering, standing (for the oath of office) and singing (the national anthem). It was a good time. And it’s pretty funny that the oath of office that Obama took was identical to the oath we took at swear-in, except that we said “Peace Corps Volunteer” instead of “President.”
In Mbabane I also met a really nice Chinese-American-Canadian who works as a Chinese-English translator for Chinese people seeking asylum in North America. She works half the year, then travels for months at a time, and somehow she ended up in Swaziland. I invited her to come stay with me for a day or two to get a feel for rural life in Swaziland (and because I was bored), so she came down to visit on Thursday. We made the public transport trek to my house, and I introduced her to the family, then we watched movies (she had a bunch and I uploaded them to my computer) until dinner time. For dinner, I’d asked my Make (mother) if she could teach us how to make “Swazi food,” so she called us into the kitchen to help with the liphalishi (maize meal, water and salt) and chicken stew (chicken, salt, onions, green peppers; we had her kill the chicken without us), all of which was delicious and EASY! My friend also brought a cake for the family, which they devoured with an enthusiasm I found almost frightening. I was a little apprehensive at first, inviting a total stranger to come stay with me for a night, but I think it made for a really interesting cultural exchange for her, me and my family. I mean, it’s not like I invited a total stranger to come live in my house for 2 years (like my host family did).
So that’s all the excitement in my life. Today (Saturday) I’m in Nhlangano for our monthly support group, which is fun. Mostly because it’s followed with copious amounts of food and an overnight visit by the girls whose buses leave before the support group ends (I have the best transport in the area, so they spend the night with me and go home on Sunday).
That’s all. I hope you’re all enjoying having a “President Obama,” and if you’re in DC and you got to go to the Inauguration, I hate you.
Love from the Swaz!
On Tuesday night, about 20 of my fellow PCVs gathered at a “Greek restaurant” (they served Indian food) for a sports bar-style viewing of the Inauguration. We got there at about 5:00 our time (the inauguration started at 7:00 our time) to get the best seats in the house, and by 6:30 the restaurant and bar areas were PACKED with Americans of all sorts—Peace Corps Volunteers, aid workers, UN workers, MSF people, etc. And I don’t think there was a Republican in the bunch. For that demographic, I think the Inauguration is a bigger deal than the Super Bowl, so we spent the evening clapping, cheering, standing (for the oath of office) and singing (the national anthem). It was a good time. And it’s pretty funny that the oath of office that Obama took was identical to the oath we took at swear-in, except that we said “Peace Corps Volunteer” instead of “President.”
In Mbabane I also met a really nice Chinese-American-Canadian who works as a Chinese-English translator for Chinese people seeking asylum in North America. She works half the year, then travels for months at a time, and somehow she ended up in Swaziland. I invited her to come stay with me for a day or two to get a feel for rural life in Swaziland (and because I was bored), so she came down to visit on Thursday. We made the public transport trek to my house, and I introduced her to the family, then we watched movies (she had a bunch and I uploaded them to my computer) until dinner time. For dinner, I’d asked my Make (mother) if she could teach us how to make “Swazi food,” so she called us into the kitchen to help with the liphalishi (maize meal, water and salt) and chicken stew (chicken, salt, onions, green peppers; we had her kill the chicken without us), all of which was delicious and EASY! My friend also brought a cake for the family, which they devoured with an enthusiasm I found almost frightening. I was a little apprehensive at first, inviting a total stranger to come stay with me for a night, but I think it made for a really interesting cultural exchange for her, me and my family. I mean, it’s not like I invited a total stranger to come live in my house for 2 years (like my host family did).
So that’s all the excitement in my life. Today (Saturday) I’m in Nhlangano for our monthly support group, which is fun. Mostly because it’s followed with copious amounts of food and an overnight visit by the girls whose buses leave before the support group ends (I have the best transport in the area, so they spend the night with me and go home on Sunday).
That’s all. I hope you’re all enjoying having a “President Obama,” and if you’re in DC and you got to go to the Inauguration, I hate you.
Love from the Swaz!
Monday, January 19, 2009
Dog Drama, Inauguration and other Goings On
Sanibonani, y’all! These past few weeks have been entirely uneventful for me. Seriously, I’ve done nothing except eat candy, study for the GRE, read last resort books (like the biography of Ronald Reagan and mystery novels written for young adults) and hunt for flies with a handkerchief (because Swaziland doesn’t believe in fly swatters) in my hut. It’s a pretty boring existence, but I’m getting really good with GRE vocab…
FIRST THINGS FIRST: I've been working on getting the whole sponsorship through Young Heroes worked out. I had to talk to the clerk who had to ask the bucopho about it who had to talk to the chief who said he needed the blessing of the indvuna first and blah blah blah. So the ball's in the indvuna's court now and as soon as he gives the "spiritual go-ahead" for contacting Young Heroes, I'll be able to arrange them coming out to the community to assess need and enroll families. This is why nothing ever gets done in Swaziland, but I assure you I'm annoying enough that it will EVENTUALLY happen. Hopefully in February, but I'll definitely keep you updated.
There has been some minor dog-related drama these past 2 weeks, though. After about a week of fighting off potential suitors (me, not her) and a frantic phone call to Grandma (“she’s bleeding!”), I learned what it means for a dog to be in heat. (Since our dogs have always been spayed, I’ve never witnessed this before, and my family here didn’t know what was going on because their dogs have always been so undernourished that they didn’t go through it.) After one particularly dog-fight-filled night, I decided she needed to be quarantined. For the next week, at sundown I had to hunt down the dog and kidnap her and carry her into an old chicken coop building and, using a big piece of corrugated metal and a rock (there is no door), shut her in for the night. She seemed fine with it, but the boy dogs all protested by barking and whining loudly all night right outside my window. Until I threw rocks at them. Peace Corps would be impressed with how Swazi I’ve become.
She’s gotten pretty fat, though. I don’t know if it’s pregnancy-related, but she definitely doesn’t fit through my burglar bars anymore. On Sunday she tried to squeeze through for what I HOPE will be the last time. I came back from my garden (I have SO MANY watermelons!) to find the dog completely wedged into the bars, her hips and both back feet stuck under her and her front half frantically trying to pull herself into my house. No luck. I swung the door open (with the dog in it) and tried to push her out from the inside. No luck. After five minutes of crying dog I decided to sacrifice the remains of my sunflower oil to get her free. While my Make watched me (shaking her head the whole time), I greased the dog up like a chicken and successfully dislodged her from the burglar door. My family doesn’t know what to think of my antics, but the dog seemed pretty happy to be unstuck and covered in delicious cooking oil. And now she’s all shiny and I have no way to make popcorn.
Luckily, there is a light at the end of my tunnel of boredom. Tuesday is Inauguration(!!!!!!!!) and I’m headed up to Mbabane to watch the festivities on the satellite TV at Sunset Backpackers while wearing my Obama t-shirt. I think it’s going to make me more homesick than anything, though, since if I was in DC right now I’d be one of those millions of people in the crowd (and it would be totally worth it). I suppose I can still be happy for Obama and Democrats and the world in general, even though I’m not a part of it. After all, I cast my completely inconsequential absentee ballot in the state of Kansas!
In other news, the schools will re-open on the 27th (it’s been pushed back a week for some reason). As an American, I falsely assumed that meant that the teachers would be coming back and spending time getting settled in and looking over their rosters (to see who is new and who is repeating the grade; it’s usually 50/50) and planning things for the year. These past few days I’ve even walked up to the school (45 minutes) to see if I could find anyone to talk to about teaching Life Skills. But no. Apparently, “school starts on the 27th” means that the teachers will return on the 27th and that students will show up and sit outside all day waiting for the teachers to get settled in and ready to start the school year, which usually takes about a week. So even though “school starts on the 27th”, no learning will actually take place until February. Hm. Add that to the list of things I don’t understand (along with “Why do you spend 100R on hair extensions when your children haven’t eaten anything but corn for 4 days?” and “Why, when you are unmarried and have advanced AIDS and TB, are you 3 months pregnant?”).
That’s all. Happy Inauguration and if you’ve just gotten your invitation for Group 7, find me on Facebook!
Love from the Swaz!
This is my "kitchen" area in my house. To the right of the photo is my table and chairs. That blue thing in front of the door (you can only see the top of it) is my "bathtub." Still want to come visit?
This is my bed (obviously), complete with mosquito net, my dresser and the lovely curtains my mother made me!
Me and the Bokhmeister hiding from the rain a few months ago when she was still kind of skinny.
FIRST THINGS FIRST: I've been working on getting the whole sponsorship through Young Heroes worked out. I had to talk to the clerk who had to ask the bucopho about it who had to talk to the chief who said he needed the blessing of the indvuna first and blah blah blah. So the ball's in the indvuna's court now and as soon as he gives the "spiritual go-ahead" for contacting Young Heroes, I'll be able to arrange them coming out to the community to assess need and enroll families. This is why nothing ever gets done in Swaziland, but I assure you I'm annoying enough that it will EVENTUALLY happen. Hopefully in February, but I'll definitely keep you updated.
There has been some minor dog-related drama these past 2 weeks, though. After about a week of fighting off potential suitors (me, not her) and a frantic phone call to Grandma (“she’s bleeding!”), I learned what it means for a dog to be in heat. (Since our dogs have always been spayed, I’ve never witnessed this before, and my family here didn’t know what was going on because their dogs have always been so undernourished that they didn’t go through it.) After one particularly dog-fight-filled night, I decided she needed to be quarantined. For the next week, at sundown I had to hunt down the dog and kidnap her and carry her into an old chicken coop building and, using a big piece of corrugated metal and a rock (there is no door), shut her in for the night. She seemed fine with it, but the boy dogs all protested by barking and whining loudly all night right outside my window. Until I threw rocks at them. Peace Corps would be impressed with how Swazi I’ve become.
She’s gotten pretty fat, though. I don’t know if it’s pregnancy-related, but she definitely doesn’t fit through my burglar bars anymore. On Sunday she tried to squeeze through for what I HOPE will be the last time. I came back from my garden (I have SO MANY watermelons!) to find the dog completely wedged into the bars, her hips and both back feet stuck under her and her front half frantically trying to pull herself into my house. No luck. I swung the door open (with the dog in it) and tried to push her out from the inside. No luck. After five minutes of crying dog I decided to sacrifice the remains of my sunflower oil to get her free. While my Make watched me (shaking her head the whole time), I greased the dog up like a chicken and successfully dislodged her from the burglar door. My family doesn’t know what to think of my antics, but the dog seemed pretty happy to be unstuck and covered in delicious cooking oil. And now she’s all shiny and I have no way to make popcorn.
Luckily, there is a light at the end of my tunnel of boredom. Tuesday is Inauguration(!!!!!!!!) and I’m headed up to Mbabane to watch the festivities on the satellite TV at Sunset Backpackers while wearing my Obama t-shirt. I think it’s going to make me more homesick than anything, though, since if I was in DC right now I’d be one of those millions of people in the crowd (and it would be totally worth it). I suppose I can still be happy for Obama and Democrats and the world in general, even though I’m not a part of it. After all, I cast my completely inconsequential absentee ballot in the state of Kansas!
In other news, the schools will re-open on the 27th (it’s been pushed back a week for some reason). As an American, I falsely assumed that meant that the teachers would be coming back and spending time getting settled in and looking over their rosters (to see who is new and who is repeating the grade; it’s usually 50/50) and planning things for the year. These past few days I’ve even walked up to the school (45 minutes) to see if I could find anyone to talk to about teaching Life Skills. But no. Apparently, “school starts on the 27th” means that the teachers will return on the 27th and that students will show up and sit outside all day waiting for the teachers to get settled in and ready to start the school year, which usually takes about a week. So even though “school starts on the 27th”, no learning will actually take place until February. Hm. Add that to the list of things I don’t understand (along with “Why do you spend 100R on hair extensions when your children haven’t eaten anything but corn for 4 days?” and “Why, when you are unmarried and have advanced AIDS and TB, are you 3 months pregnant?”).
That’s all. Happy Inauguration and if you’ve just gotten your invitation for Group 7, find me on Facebook!
Love from the Swaz!
This is my "kitchen" area in my house. To the right of the photo is my table and chairs. That blue thing in front of the door (you can only see the top of it) is my "bathtub." Still want to come visit?
This is my bed (obviously), complete with mosquito net, my dresser and the lovely curtains my mother made me!
Me and the Bokhmeister hiding from the rain a few months ago when she was still kind of skinny.
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
Best Week Ever / This is Africa / War on Bats, cont.
So when Obama said something about people “gathered around their radios in the forgotten corners of the world” listening to election results, I think he was talking about Peace Corps Swaziland. Except we were fancy enough to have a TV with satellite so we could watch CNN (at an amazing hostel for less than $10 a night)! We all (as in 28 of the 33 of us in Group 6) met up in Mbabane for the best election party ever which consisted of CNN (broadcast from London initially because of the time difference…) from about 4pm Tuesday evening to 7am Wednesday morning, pizza, beer (well, wine because I don’t drink beer) and an enormous slumber party (the kind where you don’t actually sleep). The election results didn’t actually start coming in until 2am, and Obama spoke at 6:30, at which point we were all so exhausted we were crying with joy. It was an incredible experience and I really missed being home in DC because I totally would have been one of those obnoxious people causing a ruckus outside the White House. Oh, DC…I miss you and your 93% Democratic vote. But I have to say it was pretty amazing to be surrounded entirely by liberal Democrats on a night like that and I can’t think of anyone I’d rather have shared it with. Peace Corps is amazing. The next morning, still wearing my Obama ’08 shirt, I was surprised at the number of Swazis who congratulated me on my country’s good decision. I know, I’m proud. (But how did they know? It wasn’t even in the newspaper until Thursday!) And also, CNN, what was that “hologram” business? It made for really amusing Star Wars jokes. Sad, though, that Will.I.Am was officially the first man (second person, but the first one was a woman) to be “broadcast by hologram.”
In other news, I taught my first big class the Thursday after the election. Having slept only about 6 hours of the previous 72, I was pretty nervous about my competency, and I had only prepared my lesson for about an hour the night before…and the lesson was an hour long. But it all worked out in the end. I was supposed to teach grades 5-7 and another teacher was going to take the younger kids who don’t speak English, but she didn’t show up so I had grades 2-7 for a grand total of just over 200 kids. That’s how things go in Swaziland, so I wasn’t surprised, really. After the head teacher had yelled at all of them to sit down and be quiet and listen to me, I got them all out of their chairs to play a game where each child gets a card with an X, O or triangle on it and they go around and shake hands with each other for a minute and then I explain what it means. If they had an X on the card it represented an HIV-positive person. Anyone who shook hands with that person had sex with them, and if they have a triangle they used a condom but an O they didn’t. It’s pretty dramatic to see how quickly it spreads…I started out with 7 X’s originally and there were over 30 by the time they had shaken hands with others. I did have to PEPFAR-ize it a little bit so that each handshake was an “high-risk encounter” with an HIV-positive person, and the triangles “knew how to protect themselves” from HIV since I’m funded by PEPFAR and not allowed to talk about condoms and I wasn’t really comfortable talking to 2nd graders about sex. Then we did an exercise where we talked about ways that HIV is spread and ways it isn’t, and I was impressed with what they knew overall. They thought you could get HIV from a mosquito bite, but they got all of the other ones right (as in you can’t get HIV from sitting next to someone in class, playing soccer with someone, hugging someone, sharing a meal, etc.). And when we discussed how you can protect yourself one girl said “if you don’t abstain, always use a condom!” And then I made them all repeat what that girl had said since I’m not technically allowed to say that, but they’re allowed to learn from their peers. Amazing.
I did also have what was probably the most embarrassing moment of my life that morning, though. I was teaching in the chapel (and, no, I didn’t get struck by lightening and I even sang along with some of the songs in English) so I was standing on a big platform at the front of the classroom, behind a big lectern that the preacher usually uses. I was pretty conscious of where the edge of the stage was (it was about 2 feet off the ground) and managed not to fall off the front of it while I was teaching, but I didn’t realize there was a back exit off the stage with a small, well-hidden staircase going down. At the end of my lesson, after I was pretty confident I had made it through, I stepped back so they could all see the amazing posters I had stuck to the walls and I landed 2 steps down the staircase and fell into the door (luckily it didn’t open or I’d have landed outside). Great! Swazis apologize for everything, so they responded with a synchronized chorus of “I’m sorry,” which made it even more embarrassing. I tried to just move on, but I know I was glowing red.
This past week has been pretty busy, all in all. I’ve been teaching “argumentative writing” to the Form 4s, which is a completely new concept to them even though in less than a year they have to take an examination on argumentative writing. But they seem to be getting it pretty well. I’m also teaching the Thursday morning lesson at the primary school and working at the clinic with Doctors Without Borders (MSF) on Tuesdays, and trying frantically to get my “homework” done in time to turn it in at In-Service Training. I have about a million pages of siSwati homework due on the 16th of November and my “Phase II report” about my community, which I didn’t start until the weekend before it was due. Whoops. I also got a new Gogo Centre Clerk this past week, which means that I finally have someone to use as a translator and tour guide, but it’s a bit late for that to be very helpful. I have learned, though, that in Swaziland it takes exactly 5 weeks to choose between 2 people they interview for a job. And I was supposed to meet with him on Friday but he didn’t show up. Welcome to Swaziland.
It's so easy to forget that I'm in Swaziland when I'm going through the everyday routine of life. Somehow it seems so normal. Until, of course, something absolutely ridiculous happens to remind me. On Tuesday night, after teaching, I headed up to Brittany's site to stay the night so I could visit the office early Wednesday morning. It was a fun night--we watched all of My Best Friend's Wedding and my computer battery didn't die!. But the next morning at about 5:30 we decided to head into the office to be the first ones on the computer. Easy enough. Except it was raining. Raining like crazy and I didn't have a rain jacket or an umbrella. And that's just problem number one. After standing at the bust stop for about 30 minutes, constantly battling the flying termites (problem number two) that were trying to fly into our eyes/ears/noses/hair, and bonding over removing dead termite carcasses from each other's faces, we finally got a kombi. And the kombi drove for about 10 minutes before getting stuck in the mud at the bottom of a big hill. Great! Problem number three: We sat there in the kombi for a while until we saw that there was gasoline spewing from the bottom of the kombi (we had slid into a mud bank and bottomed-out on some rocks), at which point we booked it and decided to walk back to her site. Problem number four: biggest hill ever, in sandals, in the mud, in the pouring rain, in a skirt, carrying a heavy bag with a computer in it. We walked for about 45 minutes, nearly vertical, until finally a pick-up truck full of old women came along. We hopped in, which meant my black skirt was completely covered in mud, until we intercepted a functioning kombi. So, yes, turns out I live in Africa. Mud, rain, broke-down kombis, flying termites, barefoot hikes in a skirt up a hill, hitch-hiking in a pick-up truck. It was an adventure, to say the least. And we still made it to the office by 8:15!
I also had an eye-opening experience this week “shadowing” a woman who works as an “expert client” at the clinic and is on the executive board of the support group. Her name is Nombuso and she’s in her mid-20s and is, amazingly, unmarried. Still, she has a daughter of her own (welcome to Swaziland…) and is raising the numerous children of her 3 brothers, all of whom have died of HIV/AIDS in the past few years (and her mother died this year of breast cancer, so it’s just her and all the kids). She’s become a good friend of mine because she speaks English and is interested in involving me in her work, which I really appreciate. So last week she took me to one of the NCPs (Neighborhood Care Points) where they teach “pre-school” to the kids for a few hours a day and, in exchange for enthusiastic singing of “head-and-shoulders-knees-and-toes” they get a meal. When I visited, the meal was boiled split peas and salt with boiled wheat, which was prepared much like oats. Ew. En route to the NCP we stopped by two homesteads to check on homebound patients. The first was a 43-year-old widow who had no children of her own but who was raising two children of relatives who had died of HIV/AIDS. She had fallen down and broken her leg, which the clinic had put in a cement cast so she could walk on it because she couldn’t afford the expensive crutches or hospital visit. Then we stopped in and saw an 80-year-old gogo (grandmother) who was literally wasting away in her bed. She probably weighed 80 pounds and was about 2% conscious because she had gone over a week without food. She had never been tested for HIV, but all of the other women in the family were HIV-positive so she may have contracted the virus taking care of a family member, which would explain her rapid wasting. But because she is so old, she decided she would rather die than consume the family’s limited stock of food. It’s pretty overwhelming to see the impact of HIV/AIDS and food shortage in that way, and even worse to see that Nombuso was not even surprised. Examples like that are pretty common.
Back on the homefront, I think I may have won the War on Bats. Last week I was talking to some drunk guy sitting next to me on a kombi and he suggested that I stuff wet newspaper in the cracks between the wall and the ceiling to keep the bats out, so I improvised with wet typing paper, newspaper and a few colored-on pages of a coloring book. I did it on Saturday and, as of Tuesday, I have not had a bat and there is no bat poop in my house. It may be a bit early to declare victory, but at least I have a game plan now. The bats have been replaced by another critter problem, though, as I discovered Monday that the largest spider in the world is living under my bed. Seriously, he was about the size of my palm and really hairy and brown and, in all likelihood, poisonous. I tried to kill him a number of times, then decided that ignoring him is probably the best idea.
From the 16th to 21st of November Group 6 has what is called In-Service Training (IST). We’re all meeting in Manzini to learn more about HIV/AIDS from doctors from Baylor University and to learn the logistics of applying for grants and such. Our previous training focused on acculturation to Swaziland and on language training, and this second training focuses on the more technical aspects of what it means to be a Peace Corps Volunteer. It will be amazing for all of us to be together again and I’m excited to actually be able to begin work in my community. And if I’m lucky, when I get back home I’ll actually have vegetables in my garden! (I have a tomato now, but it’s still green so I’m sure it will be eaten while I’m gone at IST…bad timing on my part. And the first of my lettuce is almost ready.)
Also, I planted a papaya tree. Apparently they bear fruit within a few months of being planted. Aside from the fact that papayas are gross (they smell like feet and taste like nothing), I’m excited about my first fruit tree.
I’m hosting my first slumber party this Saturday (really a dinner party, but since dinner happens after dark, everyone will stay the night). It’ll be fun. I’m going to bake like crazy in an attempt to lure visitors to my house in the future. I’m thinking chocolate chip cookies, brownies and apple crisp. Yum! Add to that some homemade pasta sauce (store-bought pasta) and a nice salad made with homegrown vegetables (at least the lettuce)…delicious! Not to mention that I have East Coast Radio…
Things I love about Swaziland: chutney-flavored processed cheese, which makes great grilled cheese sandwiches that I eat for all 3 meals a day until the cheese is gone; being able to nap for 4 hours on a Thursday afternoon without it interfering with work; the sun-bleaching of my hair from my long walks every day; working with 99% Democrats; the fact that it’s cool after the sun goes down so it’s never too hot to sleep; my bhutis and sisis, who are very generous with their hugs; making my own Raisin Bran from a bag of raisins and a box of bran flakes, which means I can put even more than two scoops in every box; and being so well-known in my community that even on a kombi from Nhlangano I always know someone.
Final thought: I have a new cell phone with a South African number so I can receive incoming text messages. The number (from the US) is 011 27 79 668 7818. So yeah, text me and make me happy. There’s probably a 60% chance I’ll get it.
Love from the Swaz!
In other news, I taught my first big class the Thursday after the election. Having slept only about 6 hours of the previous 72, I was pretty nervous about my competency, and I had only prepared my lesson for about an hour the night before…and the lesson was an hour long. But it all worked out in the end. I was supposed to teach grades 5-7 and another teacher was going to take the younger kids who don’t speak English, but she didn’t show up so I had grades 2-7 for a grand total of just over 200 kids. That’s how things go in Swaziland, so I wasn’t surprised, really. After the head teacher had yelled at all of them to sit down and be quiet and listen to me, I got them all out of their chairs to play a game where each child gets a card with an X, O or triangle on it and they go around and shake hands with each other for a minute and then I explain what it means. If they had an X on the card it represented an HIV-positive person. Anyone who shook hands with that person had sex with them, and if they have a triangle they used a condom but an O they didn’t. It’s pretty dramatic to see how quickly it spreads…I started out with 7 X’s originally and there were over 30 by the time they had shaken hands with others. I did have to PEPFAR-ize it a little bit so that each handshake was an “high-risk encounter” with an HIV-positive person, and the triangles “knew how to protect themselves” from HIV since I’m funded by PEPFAR and not allowed to talk about condoms and I wasn’t really comfortable talking to 2nd graders about sex. Then we did an exercise where we talked about ways that HIV is spread and ways it isn’t, and I was impressed with what they knew overall. They thought you could get HIV from a mosquito bite, but they got all of the other ones right (as in you can’t get HIV from sitting next to someone in class, playing soccer with someone, hugging someone, sharing a meal, etc.). And when we discussed how you can protect yourself one girl said “if you don’t abstain, always use a condom!” And then I made them all repeat what that girl had said since I’m not technically allowed to say that, but they’re allowed to learn from their peers. Amazing.
I did also have what was probably the most embarrassing moment of my life that morning, though. I was teaching in the chapel (and, no, I didn’t get struck by lightening and I even sang along with some of the songs in English) so I was standing on a big platform at the front of the classroom, behind a big lectern that the preacher usually uses. I was pretty conscious of where the edge of the stage was (it was about 2 feet off the ground) and managed not to fall off the front of it while I was teaching, but I didn’t realize there was a back exit off the stage with a small, well-hidden staircase going down. At the end of my lesson, after I was pretty confident I had made it through, I stepped back so they could all see the amazing posters I had stuck to the walls and I landed 2 steps down the staircase and fell into the door (luckily it didn’t open or I’d have landed outside). Great! Swazis apologize for everything, so they responded with a synchronized chorus of “I’m sorry,” which made it even more embarrassing. I tried to just move on, but I know I was glowing red.
This past week has been pretty busy, all in all. I’ve been teaching “argumentative writing” to the Form 4s, which is a completely new concept to them even though in less than a year they have to take an examination on argumentative writing. But they seem to be getting it pretty well. I’m also teaching the Thursday morning lesson at the primary school and working at the clinic with Doctors Without Borders (MSF) on Tuesdays, and trying frantically to get my “homework” done in time to turn it in at In-Service Training. I have about a million pages of siSwati homework due on the 16th of November and my “Phase II report” about my community, which I didn’t start until the weekend before it was due. Whoops. I also got a new Gogo Centre Clerk this past week, which means that I finally have someone to use as a translator and tour guide, but it’s a bit late for that to be very helpful. I have learned, though, that in Swaziland it takes exactly 5 weeks to choose between 2 people they interview for a job. And I was supposed to meet with him on Friday but he didn’t show up. Welcome to Swaziland.
It's so easy to forget that I'm in Swaziland when I'm going through the everyday routine of life. Somehow it seems so normal. Until, of course, something absolutely ridiculous happens to remind me. On Tuesday night, after teaching, I headed up to Brittany's site to stay the night so I could visit the office early Wednesday morning. It was a fun night--we watched all of My Best Friend's Wedding and my computer battery didn't die!. But the next morning at about 5:30 we decided to head into the office to be the first ones on the computer. Easy enough. Except it was raining. Raining like crazy and I didn't have a rain jacket or an umbrella. And that's just problem number one. After standing at the bust stop for about 30 minutes, constantly battling the flying termites (problem number two) that were trying to fly into our eyes/ears/noses/hair, and bonding over removing dead termite carcasses from each other's faces, we finally got a kombi. And the kombi drove for about 10 minutes before getting stuck in the mud at the bottom of a big hill. Great! Problem number three: We sat there in the kombi for a while until we saw that there was gasoline spewing from the bottom of the kombi (we had slid into a mud bank and bottomed-out on some rocks), at which point we booked it and decided to walk back to her site. Problem number four: biggest hill ever, in sandals, in the mud, in the pouring rain, in a skirt, carrying a heavy bag with a computer in it. We walked for about 45 minutes, nearly vertical, until finally a pick-up truck full of old women came along. We hopped in, which meant my black skirt was completely covered in mud, until we intercepted a functioning kombi. So, yes, turns out I live in Africa. Mud, rain, broke-down kombis, flying termites, barefoot hikes in a skirt up a hill, hitch-hiking in a pick-up truck. It was an adventure, to say the least. And we still made it to the office by 8:15!
I also had an eye-opening experience this week “shadowing” a woman who works as an “expert client” at the clinic and is on the executive board of the support group. Her name is Nombuso and she’s in her mid-20s and is, amazingly, unmarried. Still, she has a daughter of her own (welcome to Swaziland…) and is raising the numerous children of her 3 brothers, all of whom have died of HIV/AIDS in the past few years (and her mother died this year of breast cancer, so it’s just her and all the kids). She’s become a good friend of mine because she speaks English and is interested in involving me in her work, which I really appreciate. So last week she took me to one of the NCPs (Neighborhood Care Points) where they teach “pre-school” to the kids for a few hours a day and, in exchange for enthusiastic singing of “head-and-shoulders-knees-and-toes” they get a meal. When I visited, the meal was boiled split peas and salt with boiled wheat, which was prepared much like oats. Ew. En route to the NCP we stopped by two homesteads to check on homebound patients. The first was a 43-year-old widow who had no children of her own but who was raising two children of relatives who had died of HIV/AIDS. She had fallen down and broken her leg, which the clinic had put in a cement cast so she could walk on it because she couldn’t afford the expensive crutches or hospital visit. Then we stopped in and saw an 80-year-old gogo (grandmother) who was literally wasting away in her bed. She probably weighed 80 pounds and was about 2% conscious because she had gone over a week without food. She had never been tested for HIV, but all of the other women in the family were HIV-positive so she may have contracted the virus taking care of a family member, which would explain her rapid wasting. But because she is so old, she decided she would rather die than consume the family’s limited stock of food. It’s pretty overwhelming to see the impact of HIV/AIDS and food shortage in that way, and even worse to see that Nombuso was not even surprised. Examples like that are pretty common.
Back on the homefront, I think I may have won the War on Bats. Last week I was talking to some drunk guy sitting next to me on a kombi and he suggested that I stuff wet newspaper in the cracks between the wall and the ceiling to keep the bats out, so I improvised with wet typing paper, newspaper and a few colored-on pages of a coloring book. I did it on Saturday and, as of Tuesday, I have not had a bat and there is no bat poop in my house. It may be a bit early to declare victory, but at least I have a game plan now. The bats have been replaced by another critter problem, though, as I discovered Monday that the largest spider in the world is living under my bed. Seriously, he was about the size of my palm and really hairy and brown and, in all likelihood, poisonous. I tried to kill him a number of times, then decided that ignoring him is probably the best idea.
From the 16th to 21st of November Group 6 has what is called In-Service Training (IST). We’re all meeting in Manzini to learn more about HIV/AIDS from doctors from Baylor University and to learn the logistics of applying for grants and such. Our previous training focused on acculturation to Swaziland and on language training, and this second training focuses on the more technical aspects of what it means to be a Peace Corps Volunteer. It will be amazing for all of us to be together again and I’m excited to actually be able to begin work in my community. And if I’m lucky, when I get back home I’ll actually have vegetables in my garden! (I have a tomato now, but it’s still green so I’m sure it will be eaten while I’m gone at IST…bad timing on my part. And the first of my lettuce is almost ready.)
Also, I planted a papaya tree. Apparently they bear fruit within a few months of being planted. Aside from the fact that papayas are gross (they smell like feet and taste like nothing), I’m excited about my first fruit tree.
I’m hosting my first slumber party this Saturday (really a dinner party, but since dinner happens after dark, everyone will stay the night). It’ll be fun. I’m going to bake like crazy in an attempt to lure visitors to my house in the future. I’m thinking chocolate chip cookies, brownies and apple crisp. Yum! Add to that some homemade pasta sauce (store-bought pasta) and a nice salad made with homegrown vegetables (at least the lettuce)…delicious! Not to mention that I have East Coast Radio…
Things I love about Swaziland: chutney-flavored processed cheese, which makes great grilled cheese sandwiches that I eat for all 3 meals a day until the cheese is gone; being able to nap for 4 hours on a Thursday afternoon without it interfering with work; the sun-bleaching of my hair from my long walks every day; working with 99% Democrats; the fact that it’s cool after the sun goes down so it’s never too hot to sleep; my bhutis and sisis, who are very generous with their hugs; making my own Raisin Bran from a bag of raisins and a box of bran flakes, which means I can put even more than two scoops in every box; and being so well-known in my community that even on a kombi from Nhlangano I always know someone.
Final thought: I have a new cell phone with a South African number so I can receive incoming text messages. The number (from the US) is 011 27 79 668 7818. So yeah, text me and make me happy. There’s probably a 60% chance I’ll get it.
Love from the Swaz!
Sunday, June 15, 2008
The Countdown
Sanibona! (That means "hello everyone" in siSwati)
Just in case you don't know (by some miracle--it's all I talk about these days), I'm leaving June 23 for Swaziland where I will work as a community health HIV/AIDS educator for the Peace Corps. I have training from June-August 2008, then I'll HOPEFULLY (if I'm deemed competent) be sworn in on August 28 as a Peace Corps Volunteer (PCV)! But for now, I'm studying and shopping and generally freaking out about the fact that I'm moving to Africa for the next 27 months.
So, now I'm frantically making last-minute preparations like packing and studying siSwati (that's what they speak in Swaziland) before my departure for Swaziland. Next Monday, June 23, I'll be leaving for Philly for my "staging" where I will learn all about safety and what to expect and meet everyone else in my group (there are 35 of us), then we will all board a bus to JFK where we'll fly to Dakar, Senegal, and Johannesburg, South Africa. After a brief rest, we'll be taking yet another bus to Swaziland where we'll begin our Pre-Service Training (PST). And hopefully all my packing will not be in vain...but the Jo'burg airport is notorious for luggage thieving!
I can hardly contain my excitement! I've been communicating with a few other people in my training group on Facebook (lame, I know), but I'm excited to ACTUALLY meet everyone in Philly. ALSO, in some random twist of fate I happen to know one of the other girls in my training class--Serena and I are both AEPhi alum from AU. It's an incredible coincidence...
Anyway, I'm moving to Africa. Again. If you would like to send me a letter or something (not that you have to, I'm just posting this in case!), here's my address:
Justine Amos, PCV
US Peace Corps
P.O. Box 2797
Mbabane H100, Swaziland
AFRICA
You can also send stuff DHL if you want:
Justine Amos, PCV
c/o US Peace Corps
Farm 188
Gate 256 Muzi Road,
Dalriach West, Mbabane
Swaziland
Phone #: 268-422-0411
So, that's all for now. I'll probably be able to write once or twice between now and August, but maybe not at all--it really depends on the frequency of internet access. BUT, I should have a cell phone within a few days in Swaziland (all I have to do is buy a sim card since I kept my phone from South Africa) and I'll post my number whenever I get a chance.
Also, when I have them I'll post some photos on this blog (if I can figure out how to do that...) for your viewing pleasure!
Hamba kahle,
Justine.
Just in case you don't know (by some miracle--it's all I talk about these days), I'm leaving June 23 for Swaziland where I will work as a community health HIV/AIDS educator for the Peace Corps. I have training from June-August 2008, then I'll HOPEFULLY (if I'm deemed competent) be sworn in on August 28 as a Peace Corps Volunteer (PCV)! But for now, I'm studying and shopping and generally freaking out about the fact that I'm moving to Africa for the next 27 months.
So, now I'm frantically making last-minute preparations like packing and studying siSwati (that's what they speak in Swaziland) before my departure for Swaziland. Next Monday, June 23, I'll be leaving for Philly for my "staging" where I will learn all about safety and what to expect and meet everyone else in my group (there are 35 of us), then we will all board a bus to JFK where we'll fly to Dakar, Senegal, and Johannesburg, South Africa. After a brief rest, we'll be taking yet another bus to Swaziland where we'll begin our Pre-Service Training (PST). And hopefully all my packing will not be in vain...but the Jo'burg airport is notorious for luggage thieving!
I can hardly contain my excitement! I've been communicating with a few other people in my training group on Facebook (lame, I know), but I'm excited to ACTUALLY meet everyone in Philly. ALSO, in some random twist of fate I happen to know one of the other girls in my training class--Serena and I are both AEPhi alum from AU. It's an incredible coincidence...
Anyway, I'm moving to Africa. Again. If you would like to send me a letter or something (not that you have to, I'm just posting this in case!), here's my address:
Justine Amos, PCV
US Peace Corps
P.O. Box 2797
Mbabane H100, Swaziland
AFRICA
You can also send stuff DHL if you want:
Justine Amos, PCV
c/o US Peace Corps
Farm 188
Gate 256 Muzi Road,
Dalriach West, Mbabane
Swaziland
Phone #: 268-422-0411
So, that's all for now. I'll probably be able to write once or twice between now and August, but maybe not at all--it really depends on the frequency of internet access. BUT, I should have a cell phone within a few days in Swaziland (all I have to do is buy a sim card since I kept my phone from South Africa) and I'll post my number whenever I get a chance.
Also, when I have them I'll post some photos on this blog (if I can figure out how to do that...) for your viewing pleasure!
Hamba kahle,
Justine.
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