Last week I left you in suspense as the “Mountain High Sewing Circle” was inaugurated with little fanfare but a lot of apprehension on my part. What if none of the patients liked the projects or wanted to sew? What if nobody showed up? What if the projects were too hard/easy/fast/slow/boring? What if my slapdash sewing ability did not go over in this country where an iron is a necessity, even for families without electricity. (By the way, Join the Peace Corps and you will probably need an iron). What if there weren’t enough needles, fabric, thread or patience (patients)? What if the patients didn’t know how to sew and didn’t want to learn? What if our projects interfered with the nurses and we are scolded for wanting to have a few laughs and fun in this hospital environment? Well, the week was generally viewed as a success because every day we had 10-15 women who left their beds to come and sew and join the fun. They were disappointed when I told them on Friday that we would not meet on the weekends as it takes all weekend for me to obtain groceries in this remote outpost. I believe that the blessings fell on all of us even though some of the projects were not culturally sensitive. The time was well spent and I got to know the women as individuals with lives, families, aspirations, boyfriends, vanity and an urge to embrace the future.
Monday, after advising the director of nursing of my intentions to start handwork (she is called the Matron), the nurses rounded up the willing and able to sit in the corridor on benches while I showed them the headscarf (induku) project and had them draw numbers out of a hat to determine who would get to select the first piece of fabric that would be hemmed. I had purchased 5 types of soft cotton in one of the many fabric stores in town and cut them into 50cm squares for hemming. We started with a prayer and hymn as all meetings do in South Africa, sacred and secular. The 17 women enjoyed selecting their printed or plain fabric and I was glad there appeared to be no “dog” in the selection. One of the patients is only 19 years old and she asked for PINK, just like the young girls in the US. After 2 hours most of the women had finished hemming their indukus and put them on their heads. Twala or wrapping the induku is an art in this country with double, twisted and formed roses appearing on the women’s necks. The best part of the morning was hearing the women chatter and gossip, comparing their lives and sewing abilities.
I was at a loss for what to do on Tuesday so I showed them embroidery stitches they could use on their induku to personalize it. So we had an embroidery lesson where we did initials and names on the induku from Monday. Most of the women came back for more. By Wednesday I was brainstorming to figure out what we could do with only some scraps of fabric left from the indukus so we cut squares and triangles and started working on a quilt for the maternity ward. The women seemed unfamiliar with the idea of patchwork but caught on quickly and enjoyed deciding between square or pinwheel designs for the final assembly. I told them that this was an Ubuntu Ingubo or Community Blanket as each women assembled a patchwork square of small triangles and then sewed them unto the larger quiltop.
By Friday, it was time to celebrate the week’s accomplishments so I dragged my hotplate into the hospital TV room and showed them how to make NO BAKE Cookies, a blast from the 50’s (Thanks to all those moms who taught us useful life skills and sent the NOBakes to camp.) South Africans are partial to sweets-Don’t ever try to work through their Tea Break at 10am. The sweets (candy to us) aisles in the grocery, sundry, housewares and department stores are enormous with many new delights that would charm any expat including chocolate covered turkish delight, nougats with real cherries and almonds, and tiny chocolates in the shapes of ballet slippers with pink decorations. However, good luck trying to find paper towels, ziplock bags or pork chops!
After the cooking demonstration and sampling the goodies tackled the quilt which by now is getting larger and more complex. A few dedicated souls battled the glitches but sewing was competing with the wrestling match on TV. I was happy to hear gales of laughter as clowns hauled away losing wrestlers and the ladies cheered their heroes. A great time was had by all!! Tomorrow we start on booties made out of fleece, lap quilts and tote bags with the birds of South Africa (made from leftover fabric from my curtains). I don’t know where this handwork project is going but was heartened when a new nurse volunteered to assist with handcrafts at the employee staff meeting. Hopefully she will help plan projects that are better fits for the culture and are sensitive to the skills of the patients. The men are also restless in their long days with nothing to do and time to think about their illnesses and problems. Gardening may not be possible for them due to health issues so the next task may be to research appropriate handcrafts for them.
This week I have been thinking about the fragility of health, life and the impacts of disease on family relationships. My good friend Melinda's three year old grandaughter has just been diagnosed with Leukemia and the whole family has been affected. (Please say a prayer for Melinda and her family). The seriously ill patients here are mainly in their 30’s and 40’s when they should be supporting families and contributing to society. The TB and HIV prey upon each other so that two diseases must be treated. The patients are treated well but many do not have a good prognosis. The hospital is remote so that it is difficult for the families to visit. Every family here (patients and staff alike) has been affected by HIV and it is the breadwinners who have been removed from their roles, leaving the families bereaving and broke. There is little anger about this sad state of affairs; only a bland statement that a mother, father, or brother or sister “Passed Away.” Pray that a vaccine or cure for this plague will be found soon.
Sunday, October 29, 2006
Monday, October 23, 2006
A Day with Zebras, Eland and Bleesbok-We're Really in Africa!
Oct. 22, 2006
Saturday morning brought fair skies, so, with anticipation, we ventured to the Vryheid nature preserve to see if the locals were correctly reporting that the backside contained zebras, eland and bleesbok. The preserve is located on the hill above the town and is a 10 minute walk from taxi stand where we arrive from our mountain home once a week to buy groceries. We opened the gate to the preserve and discovered that there was not a soul or vehicle anywhere in the vicinity. Thus, we trekked up the path to the top of the hill through forest canopies, wildflowers, hanging bird’s nests created by weaver birds and occasional sights dating from Boer War battles. The view of the town from the summit was stunning as the hills are green and the buttes of Zululand contrasted with the farms, dams, mealie tanks, coal heaps and orderliness of the town. We then ventured down a track and came to the backside of the preserve where we sighted beasts grazing in the distance and not a human sign anywhere. As we hiked closer to the animals we realized that we were seeing black striped zebras grazing next to herds of eland. The more than 100 zebras had mouse like faces and were content to stare at us until we got within 100 feet and then they trotted off to the next viewing spot. I am partial to zebras and giraffes because of the beauty and eleganat design of their coats. The bleesbok ignored us as they were busy prancing, jumping and chasing about. The eland were sparser but statelier, content to graze in the distance. The track continued for around 4 miles until it returned to the summit of the hill. The experience of seeing exotic animals in freedom to roam and graze was thrilling to us Americans and probably just a hint of what this country has to offer, not to mention the pleasure of a spring day with the wildflowers in full bloom.
The week held many surprises including a trip to Mona, a Zulu craft fair in a village 40 km from Mountain High. The associate hospital director organized the outing to identify any Zulu crafts that would be appropriate activity projects for our patients. We arrived around 6pm to find that most of the vendors had closed up for the night and were huddled in their makeshift plastic tarp temporary homes. They come to this site every month from all over South Africa and camp for the two week fair. Thunder and lightning started as we ventured across the huge market site. Many of the muthi (traditional medicines) dealers were still selling their herbal preparations, a sad statement as to the extent of the AIDS pandemic in South Africa, which is seen as a bewitching of the patient by another. One vendor showed us straw mats; another had beautifully carved wooden bowls, a third brought out black clay pots with interesting designs embossed in the clay. I was looking for Zulu beading or wire baskets but the small items had been packed away for the night. Maybe we’ll try again next month. Mona was certainly not the Zulu cultural center that I had envisioned; think of a flea market with the goods spread out on the ground and the proprietors camping next to the wares. However, the thunder and lightning storm highlighting the rolling hills of Mona with the black tarp homes of the dealers silhouetted was a dramatic, memorable site.
Wednesday we were surprised by a knock at our door when a young village girl came up the steep path from the small local village to visit us. We carried on a conversation in Zulu/English and I learned that her mother had just died and was buried the previous Saturday. I could sense her grief and sense of loss. She was interested in the computer and so I showed her how to type a simple letter and look at photos. Although she was bright and courteous, she stated that it was impossible to find a job in the area and she has no money for further education so her prospects for employment are dim. Sat. morning she walked by our taxi carrying a saw to harvest firewood for cooking. However the sight that really caught my attention was a woman bundling 4 trees, 13 feet long, and placing them on her head to thwala(balance them) and transport them back to her home down the very steep path. She executed the task with great skill, grace and rhythm as she moved in dance like steps from side to side laden with her heavy load.
This weekend I bought cotton fabric for the women patients to make induku (head scarves) that they can hem, embroider and take with them when they are discharged. So I am filled with anxiety tonight about how the project will go over and whether it meets the Peace Corps standards of sustainability after we are gone. The patients have no activities to fill their time and are often depressed about their status, so barring a comedy team coming to tell jokes or a Zulu story teller, we will start a hand sewing project tomorrow for the head scarves. I am hoping it will be a sharing event with the women encouraged to talk about sewing and colors. My dream is that it will lead to a more complex projects-perhaps creating baby quilts for the newborns that are delivered by the midwives here at the hospital. (One little girl was born Wednesday night and was swaddled in an old brown flannel blanket.) I thought of the cute baby quilts at home and the women of St. Peters by the Sea’s project to make a new baby quilt for every baby at the general hospital-a great idea for Mountain High but is it sensitive and is it sustainable? We sure have a lot to learn and make mistakes every day. However, our friends and colleagues here are warm hearted and forgiving.
Saturday morning brought fair skies, so, with anticipation, we ventured to the Vryheid nature preserve to see if the locals were correctly reporting that the backside contained zebras, eland and bleesbok. The preserve is located on the hill above the town and is a 10 minute walk from taxi stand where we arrive from our mountain home once a week to buy groceries. We opened the gate to the preserve and discovered that there was not a soul or vehicle anywhere in the vicinity. Thus, we trekked up the path to the top of the hill through forest canopies, wildflowers, hanging bird’s nests created by weaver birds and occasional sights dating from Boer War battles. The view of the town from the summit was stunning as the hills are green and the buttes of Zululand contrasted with the farms, dams, mealie tanks, coal heaps and orderliness of the town. We then ventured down a track and came to the backside of the preserve where we sighted beasts grazing in the distance and not a human sign anywhere. As we hiked closer to the animals we realized that we were seeing black striped zebras grazing next to herds of eland. The more than 100 zebras had mouse like faces and were content to stare at us until we got within 100 feet and then they trotted off to the next viewing spot. I am partial to zebras and giraffes because of the beauty and eleganat design of their coats. The bleesbok ignored us as they were busy prancing, jumping and chasing about. The eland were sparser but statelier, content to graze in the distance. The track continued for around 4 miles until it returned to the summit of the hill. The experience of seeing exotic animals in freedom to roam and graze was thrilling to us Americans and probably just a hint of what this country has to offer, not to mention the pleasure of a spring day with the wildflowers in full bloom.
The week held many surprises including a trip to Mona, a Zulu craft fair in a village 40 km from Mountain High. The associate hospital director organized the outing to identify any Zulu crafts that would be appropriate activity projects for our patients. We arrived around 6pm to find that most of the vendors had closed up for the night and were huddled in their makeshift plastic tarp temporary homes. They come to this site every month from all over South Africa and camp for the two week fair. Thunder and lightning started as we ventured across the huge market site. Many of the muthi (traditional medicines) dealers were still selling their herbal preparations, a sad statement as to the extent of the AIDS pandemic in South Africa, which is seen as a bewitching of the patient by another. One vendor showed us straw mats; another had beautifully carved wooden bowls, a third brought out black clay pots with interesting designs embossed in the clay. I was looking for Zulu beading or wire baskets but the small items had been packed away for the night. Maybe we’ll try again next month. Mona was certainly not the Zulu cultural center that I had envisioned; think of a flea market with the goods spread out on the ground and the proprietors camping next to the wares. However, the thunder and lightning storm highlighting the rolling hills of Mona with the black tarp homes of the dealers silhouetted was a dramatic, memorable site.
Wednesday we were surprised by a knock at our door when a young village girl came up the steep path from the small local village to visit us. We carried on a conversation in Zulu/English and I learned that her mother had just died and was buried the previous Saturday. I could sense her grief and sense of loss. She was interested in the computer and so I showed her how to type a simple letter and look at photos. Although she was bright and courteous, she stated that it was impossible to find a job in the area and she has no money for further education so her prospects for employment are dim. Sat. morning she walked by our taxi carrying a saw to harvest firewood for cooking. However the sight that really caught my attention was a woman bundling 4 trees, 13 feet long, and placing them on her head to thwala(balance them) and transport them back to her home down the very steep path. She executed the task with great skill, grace and rhythm as she moved in dance like steps from side to side laden with her heavy load.
This weekend I bought cotton fabric for the women patients to make induku (head scarves) that they can hem, embroider and take with them when they are discharged. So I am filled with anxiety tonight about how the project will go over and whether it meets the Peace Corps standards of sustainability after we are gone. The patients have no activities to fill their time and are often depressed about their status, so barring a comedy team coming to tell jokes or a Zulu story teller, we will start a hand sewing project tomorrow for the head scarves. I am hoping it will be a sharing event with the women encouraged to talk about sewing and colors. My dream is that it will lead to a more complex projects-perhaps creating baby quilts for the newborns that are delivered by the midwives here at the hospital. (One little girl was born Wednesday night and was swaddled in an old brown flannel blanket.) I thought of the cute baby quilts at home and the women of St. Peters by the Sea’s project to make a new baby quilt for every baby at the general hospital-a great idea for Mountain High but is it sensitive and is it sustainable? We sure have a lot to learn and make mistakes every day. However, our friends and colleagues here are warm hearted and forgiving.
Monday, October 16, 2006
Two Springs, Two Summers - What's Down the Road??
Oct. 16, 2006
Two Springs, Two Summers – What’s down the Road??
Our arrival here in South Africa has been confusing and comforting at the same time due to the familiarity of the climates to Los Angeles but the change in seasons and calendar. In July we arrived to late Winter after leaving Hawaii and Philadelphia Summer Weather. Plus, there is no central heating that we have seen anywhere in SA, even in tourist hotels. (Course our experience is very limited and confined to communities of Africans and Peace Corps training sites). So we are doubly blessed to now venture into true Spring with gorgeous wildflowers and green, green, everywhere on hillsides and previously golden fields now carpeted with soft luscious green carpet peppered with purple, blue, white and yellow wildflowers. We loved the March wildflowers in Palm Springs but they do not have the backdrop of Irish green and the fabulous skies of billowy thunderheads highlighted with pink and sunlight streams. Not to mention the ancient rock formations that look like Zulu heads and local kraals (small farms with rondavals and corrals) of the residents. Of course we cannot figure out (even after almost 3 months) which direction is west or east or north or south. As true Californians we are looking for the Pacific to give us a clue but it is nowhere in sight.
We planted a test garden last week in an abandoned garden site that stretches for at least an acre in front of our residence. It is the top of the ridge of our mountain and is bordered by beautiful cypress trees and ancient geological formation. The days have been warm and pleasant with daylight until after six so we have a few hours to turn up the fabulous dirt, weed, plant and water. This is more than entertainment as it is a long haul (80 km or 1 hour) with any produce in a parcel on your lap competing with 15 other passenger’s packages, baggage, and children for space to get from a grocery store up to our mountain home. Vryheid has two pleasant, well-stocked nurseries where we obtained seeds for lettuce, onions, cabbage, cauliflower, eggplant, tomatoes, beans, carrots and even spring lettuce, thyme, basil and parsley. Yahoo!! I salivated over the small plant sections with healthy looking starter plants but Brendon reminded me about the difficulty in transporting the plants in the Kumbie so we settled for a vast selection of seeds. The soil here is fabulous; combined with the heavy doses of African sun and thunder storms this time of year. So, trial packs of cilantro from seeds provided by Peace Corps Volunteers in a nearby city have sprouted after only two weeks and look very healthy. Our test garden looked a little dry on Sunday but the Spring rains promise fresh vegetables and maybe some food to give away to the local. I am sympathetic with my neighbors in the tiny village 1 km straight down below as they have no access to fresh foods, produce, meat or luxuries of any kind unless they have the time, money and fortitude to travel the 80 km plus the 2 km on the dirt road to get to our community. So the answer is to get a community garden growing to provide fresh food for the local community and eliminate the transport problem. Some of the obstacles to getting the garden started are the lack of water for watering (if the rains fail), pestilences (many amazingly beautiful bugs, moths, beasts abound) and perserverance to bring the garden to fruition. Our interest is to provide some fresh food for the community and to engage the patients (and residents) in gardening tasks, if they are willing, and learn how to grow vegetables in SA.
We have some competitive interests in our evenings that detract from the vegetable garden including fabulous walks or runs on the dirt roads and trails in this area. Tonight, due to the thunderheads and ominous storms close by, we chose the main dirt road that leads from the paved road to the entry of the hospital First we go out of the gated entrance to the hospital (after greeting several patients in bathrobes lounging on the grounds) and meet the elementary and high school students looking for a little fun after a tough day in school. The local high school is also a renowned boarding school named after a Zulu Christian. The kids have little recreation opportunities but are offered an excellent education with no distractions from city life and an exposure to the natural wonders of the planet. They are friendly, silly and way too cool, just like teens from home. (On a run last Friday I raced four of them down a steep hill and of course they beat me out even in their flimsy flip flops). After passing the high school and primary school, we head up a raw stone road that appears to have been dynamited out of the rock to gain access to Mountain High. (Probably 80 years ago when the hospital was founded). We then huff and puff to the high plain, my favorite part of the walk. One side is a steep slope up to the top of the mountain covered by raw timbers and occasional goats and cattle. The other side of the road is a 1000 ft drop down to the tiny settlements of the village, forested canyons, forests and high and low mesas. The view is dizzy. After passing the ancient cement entrance pillars we walk up again to a beautiful meadow now covered with green fields and amazing wildflowers, mostly purple but some yellow and white. Cows and a few locals are usually spotted before we arrive at the dense evergreen forest which goes on for ½ mile before we reach the road. I keep looking in the heavy forest for Bambi but all that is spotted are the amazing four inch long green and brown crickets, some in mating positions on the road. Their bodies are large and look like they could be a delicious protein filled meal which we will keep in mind if the taxis fail us. I haven’t even describe the 300 odd varieties of birds in this area which are delights for the eyes and ears. Next time. Love to you all. bondo
Two Springs, Two Summers – What’s down the Road??
Our arrival here in South Africa has been confusing and comforting at the same time due to the familiarity of the climates to Los Angeles but the change in seasons and calendar. In July we arrived to late Winter after leaving Hawaii and Philadelphia Summer Weather. Plus, there is no central heating that we have seen anywhere in SA, even in tourist hotels. (Course our experience is very limited and confined to communities of Africans and Peace Corps training sites). So we are doubly blessed to now venture into true Spring with gorgeous wildflowers and green, green, everywhere on hillsides and previously golden fields now carpeted with soft luscious green carpet peppered with purple, blue, white and yellow wildflowers. We loved the March wildflowers in Palm Springs but they do not have the backdrop of Irish green and the fabulous skies of billowy thunderheads highlighted with pink and sunlight streams. Not to mention the ancient rock formations that look like Zulu heads and local kraals (small farms with rondavals and corrals) of the residents. Of course we cannot figure out (even after almost 3 months) which direction is west or east or north or south. As true Californians we are looking for the Pacific to give us a clue but it is nowhere in sight.
We planted a test garden last week in an abandoned garden site that stretches for at least an acre in front of our residence. It is the top of the ridge of our mountain and is bordered by beautiful cypress trees and ancient geological formation. The days have been warm and pleasant with daylight until after six so we have a few hours to turn up the fabulous dirt, weed, plant and water. This is more than entertainment as it is a long haul (80 km or 1 hour) with any produce in a parcel on your lap competing with 15 other passenger’s packages, baggage, and children for space to get from a grocery store up to our mountain home. Vryheid has two pleasant, well-stocked nurseries where we obtained seeds for lettuce, onions, cabbage, cauliflower, eggplant, tomatoes, beans, carrots and even spring lettuce, thyme, basil and parsley. Yahoo!! I salivated over the small plant sections with healthy looking starter plants but Brendon reminded me about the difficulty in transporting the plants in the Kumbie so we settled for a vast selection of seeds. The soil here is fabulous; combined with the heavy doses of African sun and thunder storms this time of year. So, trial packs of cilantro from seeds provided by Peace Corps Volunteers in a nearby city have sprouted after only two weeks and look very healthy. Our test garden looked a little dry on Sunday but the Spring rains promise fresh vegetables and maybe some food to give away to the local. I am sympathetic with my neighbors in the tiny village 1 km straight down below as they have no access to fresh foods, produce, meat or luxuries of any kind unless they have the time, money and fortitude to travel the 80 km plus the 2 km on the dirt road to get to our community. So the answer is to get a community garden growing to provide fresh food for the local community and eliminate the transport problem. Some of the obstacles to getting the garden started are the lack of water for watering (if the rains fail), pestilences (many amazingly beautiful bugs, moths, beasts abound) and perserverance to bring the garden to fruition. Our interest is to provide some fresh food for the community and to engage the patients (and residents) in gardening tasks, if they are willing, and learn how to grow vegetables in SA.
We have some competitive interests in our evenings that detract from the vegetable garden including fabulous walks or runs on the dirt roads and trails in this area. Tonight, due to the thunderheads and ominous storms close by, we chose the main dirt road that leads from the paved road to the entry of the hospital First we go out of the gated entrance to the hospital (after greeting several patients in bathrobes lounging on the grounds) and meet the elementary and high school students looking for a little fun after a tough day in school. The local high school is also a renowned boarding school named after a Zulu Christian. The kids have little recreation opportunities but are offered an excellent education with no distractions from city life and an exposure to the natural wonders of the planet. They are friendly, silly and way too cool, just like teens from home. (On a run last Friday I raced four of them down a steep hill and of course they beat me out even in their flimsy flip flops). After passing the high school and primary school, we head up a raw stone road that appears to have been dynamited out of the rock to gain access to Mountain High. (Probably 80 years ago when the hospital was founded). We then huff and puff to the high plain, my favorite part of the walk. One side is a steep slope up to the top of the mountain covered by raw timbers and occasional goats and cattle. The other side of the road is a 1000 ft drop down to the tiny settlements of the village, forested canyons, forests and high and low mesas. The view is dizzy. After passing the ancient cement entrance pillars we walk up again to a beautiful meadow now covered with green fields and amazing wildflowers, mostly purple but some yellow and white. Cows and a few locals are usually spotted before we arrive at the dense evergreen forest which goes on for ½ mile before we reach the road. I keep looking in the heavy forest for Bambi but all that is spotted are the amazing four inch long green and brown crickets, some in mating positions on the road. Their bodies are large and look like they could be a delicious protein filled meal which we will keep in mind if the taxis fail us. I haven’t even describe the 300 odd varieties of birds in this area which are delights for the eyes and ears. Next time. Love to you all. bondo
Wednesday, October 04, 2006
Working 7 to 4 and Luving It!
Oct. 4, 2006
It’s a hard knocks life for Peace Corps Volunteers at Mountain High!!!
Just in case our friends at home believe that the Bond’s are busy saving the world in South Africa, it is time to describe our new occupations as hospital administrators at a Christian hospital high in the mountains of South Africa. At our age you come to see each new experience as a parallel and opportunity aligned with similar events in your life. So it is with our new jobs. We wake up to usually bright sunny skies at 6 (although we have had thunder and lightning storms the last two days) have a breakfast of toast and coffee and walk out our door around our house to the front of the hospital administration office where we open the office, turn on our computers and fling open the drapes to the breathtaking view of the valleys, hamlets, forests and flowers of Mountain View. Sometimes there is a mist hanging down in the valley, thousands of feet below. On the horizon one can see the buttes and mesas where the Zulus fought there wars against the Boers centuries ago. (The modern King of Zululand is a local resident much revered by the residents.) After getting organized for the day, we attend to various administrative duties designed to upgrade the management of the hospital. Some of the more unusual tasks today were Brendon’s job of writing the boy’s boarding school rules and my job to create new signage for name tags and hospital departments. Thank goodness I brought Print Shop with me. Everybody’s Peace Corps experience is unique! By 4pm it is time to knock off and take a hike through the mountain trails or the local forests. Another Day, Another Rand!
Our evenings are spent cooking dinner with the wonderful fresh foods found in South Africa. This is the first time in my life that my tastes have been hampered not by cost of the ingredients but by the volume of the item as we are limited in our grocery purchases to what we can put on our lap as we ride the 80 km up the mountain in the 15 passenger taxi kombi crowded with people of all ages, their children, packages and belongings. This last weekend we were told the daily taxi would be leaving at 7am for the ride but at 6:10am the hospital guard knocked on our door and said the taxi was full and waiting for us. Alas, it was the end of the month and a time when everyone is in town paying bills and shopping. Our hospital friends took pity on us and had the driver wait until we came running. We spent the weekend at a bed and breakfast in Vryheid and had a great time walking through the town, checking out the gardens and shops and relaxing in the beautiful patio of the B and B. We found a Presbyterian Church with services in English and a very sweet minister. We began to shop for groceries for the week on Sun. afternoon and began to realize the limitations of volume. Those teeny tiny gourmet tubes of pesto from Italy began to look great. Boxes of oats, cartons of milk and bottles of anything looked like luxuries in the land of two bags for a week and three home cooked meals a day. Life is different up here in paradise as there are no restaurants, fast food or 7-11 stores. What you carry is what you will have for the week so meal planning has some real benefit. I am anxious to plant a garden to assist in the task and am amazed at the size of the produce. Cabbages are the size of giant pumpkins due to the sun and great soil. Tomatoes are sold vine ripened and are firm, acidic and flavorful.
The Peace Corps expects volunteers to engage in a secondary project (besides their work assignment). The most compelling opportunity for me appears to be the creation of a recreation program for the patients here at the hospital. They are here an average of 2 months with no activities or entertainment. After a short time many begin to feel better and would like to have something to do. Some of the possibilities are Zulu beading projects, knitting, quilt making, wood carving, candle making, wood carving or gardening. Likewise, there are limited employment opportunities for the residents of the tiny villages in the area and it would be worthwhile to consider projects that could provide income for the locals. The hospital is the biggest employer in the area but its jobs are mainly confined to those with training and skills, which eliminates most of the local population. So it looks like there is plenty of work for two middle aged Americans as well as adventure and fun. The days fly by with no time to get homesick for family, friends and familiarity. In spite of the similarity to jobs we have had in the past, the difference is that we feel sorely needed here and our skills have been warmly welcomed.
It’s a hard knocks life for Peace Corps Volunteers at Mountain High!!!
Just in case our friends at home believe that the Bond’s are busy saving the world in South Africa, it is time to describe our new occupations as hospital administrators at a Christian hospital high in the mountains of South Africa. At our age you come to see each new experience as a parallel and opportunity aligned with similar events in your life. So it is with our new jobs. We wake up to usually bright sunny skies at 6 (although we have had thunder and lightning storms the last two days) have a breakfast of toast and coffee and walk out our door around our house to the front of the hospital administration office where we open the office, turn on our computers and fling open the drapes to the breathtaking view of the valleys, hamlets, forests and flowers of Mountain View. Sometimes there is a mist hanging down in the valley, thousands of feet below. On the horizon one can see the buttes and mesas where the Zulus fought there wars against the Boers centuries ago. (The modern King of Zululand is a local resident much revered by the residents.) After getting organized for the day, we attend to various administrative duties designed to upgrade the management of the hospital. Some of the more unusual tasks today were Brendon’s job of writing the boy’s boarding school rules and my job to create new signage for name tags and hospital departments. Thank goodness I brought Print Shop with me. Everybody’s Peace Corps experience is unique! By 4pm it is time to knock off and take a hike through the mountain trails or the local forests. Another Day, Another Rand!
Our evenings are spent cooking dinner with the wonderful fresh foods found in South Africa. This is the first time in my life that my tastes have been hampered not by cost of the ingredients but by the volume of the item as we are limited in our grocery purchases to what we can put on our lap as we ride the 80 km up the mountain in the 15 passenger taxi kombi crowded with people of all ages, their children, packages and belongings. This last weekend we were told the daily taxi would be leaving at 7am for the ride but at 6:10am the hospital guard knocked on our door and said the taxi was full and waiting for us. Alas, it was the end of the month and a time when everyone is in town paying bills and shopping. Our hospital friends took pity on us and had the driver wait until we came running. We spent the weekend at a bed and breakfast in Vryheid and had a great time walking through the town, checking out the gardens and shops and relaxing in the beautiful patio of the B and B. We found a Presbyterian Church with services in English and a very sweet minister. We began to shop for groceries for the week on Sun. afternoon and began to realize the limitations of volume. Those teeny tiny gourmet tubes of pesto from Italy began to look great. Boxes of oats, cartons of milk and bottles of anything looked like luxuries in the land of two bags for a week and three home cooked meals a day. Life is different up here in paradise as there are no restaurants, fast food or 7-11 stores. What you carry is what you will have for the week so meal planning has some real benefit. I am anxious to plant a garden to assist in the task and am amazed at the size of the produce. Cabbages are the size of giant pumpkins due to the sun and great soil. Tomatoes are sold vine ripened and are firm, acidic and flavorful.
The Peace Corps expects volunteers to engage in a secondary project (besides their work assignment). The most compelling opportunity for me appears to be the creation of a recreation program for the patients here at the hospital. They are here an average of 2 months with no activities or entertainment. After a short time many begin to feel better and would like to have something to do. Some of the possibilities are Zulu beading projects, knitting, quilt making, wood carving, candle making, wood carving or gardening. Likewise, there are limited employment opportunities for the residents of the tiny villages in the area and it would be worthwhile to consider projects that could provide income for the locals. The hospital is the biggest employer in the area but its jobs are mainly confined to those with training and skills, which eliminates most of the local population. So it looks like there is plenty of work for two middle aged Americans as well as adventure and fun. The days fly by with no time to get homesick for family, friends and familiarity. In spite of the similarity to jobs we have had in the past, the difference is that we feel sorely needed here and our skills have been warmly welcomed.
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