Golden Gate National Park
Monday, December 31, 2007
Drakensberg Mtns-South to North
Happy New Year from Clarens SA
Happy New Year to family, friends and neighbors! I am missing you very much but realize that 2008 brings our return home and reunion with our loved ones. Hopefully, you haven’t forgotten us and we can catch up on all of the news and cultural events we have missed. May God bless you in 2008 and give you peace and hope, the greatest of gifts! Service in the Peace Corps is a gift but it comes with sacrifices, not only for the volunteer but their family and friends who must fill in the gaps for them. The gaps cover everything from parenting (thanks Al for rising to the task), counseling grieving friends, paying bills and taxes, and taking care of rental property. No matter how carefully one plans for their absence, contingencies and crises arise that cannot be handled from 12,000 miles away. So we are very grateful that our family and friends have supported us and allowed us to abandon our roles in the US to serve AIDS patients in a mission hospital in Zululand. Sometimes we feel very guilty for shirking our place in our home community and our responsibilities as parents, but this has been a fabulous opportunity to use our skills and learn about South Africa. The motto on the blog site is “Do Some Good, Have Some Fun.” At this point in our service, our accomplishments may not be discernable but we sure have had a great time. Enough adventure for a lifetime!
This is the third phase of our Drakensberg Mountain road trip and we have spent the last four days in Clarens, the Free State at the north end bordering Lesotho. Clarens is an art town (don’t look for a pharmacy or supermarket) loaded with art galleries, ceramic studios, metal sculpture, foodie havens with every imaginable jam, pickle, cheese, condiment available (most homemade so I have had to put my Food and Drug training to bed), gourmet restaurants with camembert and fig in pastry, rocket and pear etc. The town is very charming with darling b and b or self catering facilities with oh so precious names like Cottage Pie and Toad House. The setting is at 6000ft next to Golden Gate National Park, aptly named for the fantastic red and gold geologic formations with green lichens growing up the mountain sides. The setting and artsy atmosphere reminds me of Sedona, if Sedona’s rock formations with blown up ten times the size. The park is full of wildflowers and birds this time of year, which is spring here in the high country. The activities here seem to be hiking the mountains or green valleys, touring the art galleries, or enjoying the restaurants and brew pubs. The town is picture perfect with a sandstone church with rooster weather vane, beautiful town square, open air shops and cafes and NO BARBED WIRE anywhere. The spot is great for coots like us but is also full of young couples and motor cyclists who drive from JoBurg (3 hours) for the day to enjoy the gorgeous setting. Tonight we will be celebrating New Years Eve at the Grouse and Claret, and open air restaurant where the evening temperature is 75 degrees. Perfect relaxing and enjoying the setting.
After touring the Midlands Meander for four days, we spent two days at Royal Natal National Park in the north end of the Drakensberg Mountains. The Amphitheater mountain formation stretches 8 km across and is 10000ft high. The light and shadows of the mountains change continually all day, creating mystery and awe. It begs to be climbed but is often shrouded in fog and mist. We caught glimpses of the forms, waterfalls, cascades and huge rock slabs as we hiked the Tugela gorge, a famous valley between the rock slabs. The Drakensberg is named for its sharp peaks like Dragons teeth; the Zulus named it after spear heads.
Tomorrow we head back to Mountain High to plunge back into our jobs and try to squeeze some productivity and sustainability out of the next 6 months. Our goal is to teach computer literacy to any staff member or resident that wants to learn how to use a computer. However, the teaching will be after work hours so it will be interesting to see if anyone shows up. As the weather grows colder I am hoping to have a marathon fleece hat sale, with proceeds slated for the continuation of the occupational therapy program after we go home. We are already feeling the imperative and push for limited time left and not much to show for our efforts. We have learned a huge amount from the experience and a different value system, especially pertaining to urgency and time schedules. We hope when we return to America, our new skills of patience and flexibility will go with us.
This is the third phase of our Drakensberg Mountain road trip and we have spent the last four days in Clarens, the Free State at the north end bordering Lesotho. Clarens is an art town (don’t look for a pharmacy or supermarket) loaded with art galleries, ceramic studios, metal sculpture, foodie havens with every imaginable jam, pickle, cheese, condiment available (most homemade so I have had to put my Food and Drug training to bed), gourmet restaurants with camembert and fig in pastry, rocket and pear etc. The town is very charming with darling b and b or self catering facilities with oh so precious names like Cottage Pie and Toad House. The setting is at 6000ft next to Golden Gate National Park, aptly named for the fantastic red and gold geologic formations with green lichens growing up the mountain sides. The setting and artsy atmosphere reminds me of Sedona, if Sedona’s rock formations with blown up ten times the size. The park is full of wildflowers and birds this time of year, which is spring here in the high country. The activities here seem to be hiking the mountains or green valleys, touring the art galleries, or enjoying the restaurants and brew pubs. The town is picture perfect with a sandstone church with rooster weather vane, beautiful town square, open air shops and cafes and NO BARBED WIRE anywhere. The spot is great for coots like us but is also full of young couples and motor cyclists who drive from JoBurg (3 hours) for the day to enjoy the gorgeous setting. Tonight we will be celebrating New Years Eve at the Grouse and Claret, and open air restaurant where the evening temperature is 75 degrees. Perfect relaxing and enjoying the setting.
After touring the Midlands Meander for four days, we spent two days at Royal Natal National Park in the north end of the Drakensberg Mountains. The Amphitheater mountain formation stretches 8 km across and is 10000ft high. The light and shadows of the mountains change continually all day, creating mystery and awe. It begs to be climbed but is often shrouded in fog and mist. We caught glimpses of the forms, waterfalls, cascades and huge rock slabs as we hiked the Tugela gorge, a famous valley between the rock slabs. The Drakensberg is named for its sharp peaks like Dragons teeth; the Zulus named it after spear heads.
Tomorrow we head back to Mountain High to plunge back into our jobs and try to squeeze some productivity and sustainability out of the next 6 months. Our goal is to teach computer literacy to any staff member or resident that wants to learn how to use a computer. However, the teaching will be after work hours so it will be interesting to see if anyone shows up. As the weather grows colder I am hoping to have a marathon fleece hat sale, with proceeds slated for the continuation of the occupational therapy program after we go home. We are already feeling the imperative and push for limited time left and not much to show for our efforts. We have learned a huge amount from the experience and a different value system, especially pertaining to urgency and time schedules. We hope when we return to America, our new skills of patience and flexibility will go with us.
Saturday, December 22, 2007
Merry Christmas from the Midlands Meander
Giraffes and Zebras at Umgeni Reserve
Brendon eating Lithchi nuts on the porch of our Rondaval
Wildflowers on the trail at Umgeni Reserve
Merry Christmas! Love to You!
Merry Christmas and Blessings to Everyone!!
Santa came early for Bondo! After almost two weeks of waiting, a fancy oral surgeon at a Medical Center in Pretoria pulled out the infected wisdom tooth in 5 minutes with no complications. When asked if I wanted general anesthesia (which would have to be scheduled later) or take my stint in the chair Now Now (means immediately in South Africa), I jumped at the chance to say goodbye to any wisdom remaining and get on with life. The doctor was skillful and professional; two hits with a chisel, two episodes of drilling and two twists of the tooth and it was out laying before me like a trophy. Of course today my jaw looks like Brendon has become a wife beater but all is well with the Bonds.
We started the Christmas holiday by holing up in a country lodge in the Midlands Meander at the foot of the Drakensburg Mountains. This artsy craftsy region consists of rolling hills, lakes, farms and cutesy towns with small craft studios, local cheese manufacturers, fishing and hiking trails. It is named after the Midlands area of the UK which it is supposed to resemble. Perfect for old coots or coot wannabees! Our lodging consists of a darling thatched rondaval with a flower studded porch that looks up at the Giants Castle formation in the Mountains. From our porch we watch long tailed birds duke it out with LBJ (little brown jobs) for territory in the long grasses by the pond. It is decorated in African style with a small ceramic fireplace, trendy Zulu fabrics and African motif tiles. Everything is spanking new and luxurious-even a microwave and café presse but is low budget by American standards. The hospitality industry in South Africa is a treat with small lodges taking on the unique personality of their owner. We purchased groceries for the next 5 days and will be able to have a real Christmas at our new home with the wonderful fresh ingredients available in the markets here. Much of the lodging in South Africa is “Self Catering” which means that you can really be at home while traveling as the digs have kitchen, living area and separate bedroom. After the Midlands tour, we will head to Royal Natal National Park to view the craggy rock formations of the Drakensburg. Then on to Clarens, another artsy community close to Golden Gate National Park. Summer has finally come with long warm days and afternoon showers.
To celebrate our health and this beautiful holiday, we went on a long hike at a local nature preserve, Umgeni. Howick is the closest town to our lodge, known for its waterfalls and boarding schools. Today we chose to go the nearby nature preserve instead of the falls and were not disappointed. What a thrill to arrive and see zebras lounging in the parking area. The hike starts on a high bluff and transverses a steep cliff to a grassy plain where giraffes were munching on tall acacia trees. The area is very green and lush with waterfalls and lovely creeks abounding with ferns and cycads. Flowers were in bloom as it is still spring on this high plain. During the 4 hour hike we passed only two other hikers who said they had spotted a cape buffalo, but alas it was only a blue wildebeest. Birds, bok and butterflies were in abundance on this fine day. Truly a gift of health and well being on Christmas 2008.
We wish all of our family, friends and neighbors a joyful Christmas and Peace in the coming year. We thank you for your support for our service in the Peace Corps and look forward to seeing you this summer when we come home. We love Africa (except when we hate it) and believe that we still have work to do here. We miss you all but are grateful for this opportunity to learn, grow and serve.
Santa came early for Bondo! After almost two weeks of waiting, a fancy oral surgeon at a Medical Center in Pretoria pulled out the infected wisdom tooth in 5 minutes with no complications. When asked if I wanted general anesthesia (which would have to be scheduled later) or take my stint in the chair Now Now (means immediately in South Africa), I jumped at the chance to say goodbye to any wisdom remaining and get on with life. The doctor was skillful and professional; two hits with a chisel, two episodes of drilling and two twists of the tooth and it was out laying before me like a trophy. Of course today my jaw looks like Brendon has become a wife beater but all is well with the Bonds.
We started the Christmas holiday by holing up in a country lodge in the Midlands Meander at the foot of the Drakensburg Mountains. This artsy craftsy region consists of rolling hills, lakes, farms and cutesy towns with small craft studios, local cheese manufacturers, fishing and hiking trails. It is named after the Midlands area of the UK which it is supposed to resemble. Perfect for old coots or coot wannabees! Our lodging consists of a darling thatched rondaval with a flower studded porch that looks up at the Giants Castle formation in the Mountains. From our porch we watch long tailed birds duke it out with LBJ (little brown jobs) for territory in the long grasses by the pond. It is decorated in African style with a small ceramic fireplace, trendy Zulu fabrics and African motif tiles. Everything is spanking new and luxurious-even a microwave and café presse but is low budget by American standards. The hospitality industry in South Africa is a treat with small lodges taking on the unique personality of their owner. We purchased groceries for the next 5 days and will be able to have a real Christmas at our new home with the wonderful fresh ingredients available in the markets here. Much of the lodging in South Africa is “Self Catering” which means that you can really be at home while traveling as the digs have kitchen, living area and separate bedroom. After the Midlands tour, we will head to Royal Natal National Park to view the craggy rock formations of the Drakensburg. Then on to Clarens, another artsy community close to Golden Gate National Park. Summer has finally come with long warm days and afternoon showers.
To celebrate our health and this beautiful holiday, we went on a long hike at a local nature preserve, Umgeni. Howick is the closest town to our lodge, known for its waterfalls and boarding schools. Today we chose to go the nearby nature preserve instead of the falls and were not disappointed. What a thrill to arrive and see zebras lounging in the parking area. The hike starts on a high bluff and transverses a steep cliff to a grassy plain where giraffes were munching on tall acacia trees. The area is very green and lush with waterfalls and lovely creeks abounding with ferns and cycads. Flowers were in bloom as it is still spring on this high plain. During the 4 hour hike we passed only two other hikers who said they had spotted a cape buffalo, but alas it was only a blue wildebeest. Birds, bok and butterflies were in abundance on this fine day. Truly a gift of health and well being on Christmas 2008.
We wish all of our family, friends and neighbors a joyful Christmas and Peace in the coming year. We thank you for your support for our service in the Peace Corps and look forward to seeing you this summer when we come home. We love Africa (except when we hate it) and believe that we still have work to do here. We miss you all but are grateful for this opportunity to learn, grow and serve.
Wednesday, December 19, 2007
AIDS Day at Mountain HIgh-Patient Choir
The Jabule Occupational Therapy Group formed a patient choir for AIDS Day and sang a Zulu song about positive living. Their skirts, shirts and beads were all hand made by them during the Jabule sessions each day. Materials for the clothing and beads were a gift from a US Peace Corps grant for care of AIDs patients.Quality Day and View from Mountain High - Spring
Dear Friends and Family, I am in Pretoria waiting to have my nasty wisdom tooth out tomorrow (12-20) so I hope to be a toothless wonder by Friday. Please say a prayer that the surgery will go well and I will be chomping on biltong (local jerky) soon. Love to you all and Merry Christmas. We have great internet here so I will publish more pics.bondo
Saturday, December 15, 2007
Safari Spa
After a tumultuous week, Brendon and I are celebrating Reconciliation Day at a Safari Spa in Zululand, a unique concept that combines wild game park, nature preserve with natural springs and mud baths. Something for everyone! This morning was spent hiking through the game park enjoying the numerous acacias with flowers every color of the rainbow, at least 20 varieties of butterflies and indigenous green scrub covering the rocky mountainsides up to the river which is the source of the spa the verdant paradise that one sees. There are warnings around about the black mambas that lurk in the grasses- one bite from an affronted mamba brings death in 45 minutes. There are also green mambas whose venom is less deadly and whose bright chartreuse color is a delight to behold. (We have spotted dead ones on our dirt road at the Hospital). We hiked down by the crocodile camp which is actually recycled water from the four natural hot water pools. The crocodiles thrive in the warm water. We walked along the edge of the fence of the camp after watching the crocs cruising in the pond and came across two sleeping crocs at the edge of the fence. Their mouths gaped open and they looked like Disney fakes but one opened his eye and growled at Brendon, eyeing lunch for this day. Ironically crocodiles are not feared in the same manner as snakes, which are feared by all cultures in South Africa and given an inordinate amount of attention.
A small delight of the hike was two dung beetles doing their heavy work of rolling a small ball of dung up a slope to their nest. The dung was approximately 1” in diameter and the beetles were less than ½” across. One beetle would spin the huge mound around and the second would push the mound forward, capitalizing on the momentum from the first beetle. What a great allegory for marriage or any partnership where one plus one can be better than two. Their attempts were humorous as times as the huge ball would end up in crevices and they had to roll the ball down the crevice, loosing the ground they had gained. But they were unrelenting and unstoppable in their task of capturing that ball of dung for their common good or whatever it is that dung beetles do with their precious find.
The hot water pools are fun for soaking and meditation, not to mention getting the kinks out of old Peace Corps Volunteers. Tomorrow we may try the hot mud pool down by the river. Kids swimming in the water pool today related their experience. One lowers themselves into the mud which is warm on top but cold on the bottom. The mud feels great on the skin but is a nuisance to remove from hair and body orifices. The mud is like sand and does not stick but one cannot float around in the cauldron. But it sure is a lot of fun to throw at your friend or cousin, who is standing close by.
Trouble seems to strike in threes as last Saturday I woke up at 4am with an impacted wisdom tooth causing pain that throbbed, hissed, jerked, and banged at my jaw. Consultation with a local dentist showed that the half emerged wisdom tooth was infected and needed to be pulled. This is no easy task as there are no local oral surgeons and pulling wisdom teeth from the old (and supposedly wise) American is no easy task. Thus 9 days later I am facing another risk/benefit decision. Plus there is the additional problem of the Christmas holidays when most of South Africa is on their summer vacation.
Impacted wisdom teeth problems pale in comparison with the HIV crisis in South Africa. This week the Hospital driver who was just admitted to the male ward with Pneumonia died and broke everyone’s heart. He was a charming man who just last week won his first game at Bingo and clowned around making the patients laugh and forget their plight. AIDS Day was celebrated on Thursday with speeches, music, candle lighting and the admonishment that “It Starts with YOU”. The needless death of the driver was on everyone’s mind as the Hospital will be at a loss without this essential person and we will miss his friendship. The day was not without its bright moments as the patients in the Jabule handcrafts strutted out in their finest hand sewn skirts, shirts (yes the men are now sewing very trendy African shirts), hats and beading. They formed a choir and entertained the hospital with their four part acapella harmony. They were an inspiration to live not just positively, but to catch the joy of life, in spite of its travails.
A small delight of the hike was two dung beetles doing their heavy work of rolling a small ball of dung up a slope to their nest. The dung was approximately 1” in diameter and the beetles were less than ½” across. One beetle would spin the huge mound around and the second would push the mound forward, capitalizing on the momentum from the first beetle. What a great allegory for marriage or any partnership where one plus one can be better than two. Their attempts were humorous as times as the huge ball would end up in crevices and they had to roll the ball down the crevice, loosing the ground they had gained. But they were unrelenting and unstoppable in their task of capturing that ball of dung for their common good or whatever it is that dung beetles do with their precious find.
The hot water pools are fun for soaking and meditation, not to mention getting the kinks out of old Peace Corps Volunteers. Tomorrow we may try the hot mud pool down by the river. Kids swimming in the water pool today related their experience. One lowers themselves into the mud which is warm on top but cold on the bottom. The mud feels great on the skin but is a nuisance to remove from hair and body orifices. The mud is like sand and does not stick but one cannot float around in the cauldron. But it sure is a lot of fun to throw at your friend or cousin, who is standing close by.
Trouble seems to strike in threes as last Saturday I woke up at 4am with an impacted wisdom tooth causing pain that throbbed, hissed, jerked, and banged at my jaw. Consultation with a local dentist showed that the half emerged wisdom tooth was infected and needed to be pulled. This is no easy task as there are no local oral surgeons and pulling wisdom teeth from the old (and supposedly wise) American is no easy task. Thus 9 days later I am facing another risk/benefit decision. Plus there is the additional problem of the Christmas holidays when most of South Africa is on their summer vacation.
Impacted wisdom teeth problems pale in comparison with the HIV crisis in South Africa. This week the Hospital driver who was just admitted to the male ward with Pneumonia died and broke everyone’s heart. He was a charming man who just last week won his first game at Bingo and clowned around making the patients laugh and forget their plight. AIDS Day was celebrated on Thursday with speeches, music, candle lighting and the admonishment that “It Starts with YOU”. The needless death of the driver was on everyone’s mind as the Hospital will be at a loss without this essential person and we will miss his friendship. The day was not without its bright moments as the patients in the Jabule handcrafts strutted out in their finest hand sewn skirts, shirts (yes the men are now sewing very trendy African shirts), hats and beading. They formed a choir and entertained the hospital with their four part acapella harmony. They were an inspiration to live not just positively, but to catch the joy of life, in spite of its travails.
Sunday, December 02, 2007
Quality Day-2nd Time Around
This week was another lesson in taking life’s bumps and grinds and enjoying the day anyway!
This year the KwaZuluNatal Zululand District Health “Quality Day Nov. 29” was a day to remember for Mountain High Hospital. Last year the Hospital attended as observers at the government hospital’s displays and award roundup. This year Mountain High “put forth its stuff” with photos, graphs, “Problem, Solution, Results” displays, patient handcrafts, and plenty of red, yellow and blue, the Hospital colors. For me the day was a culmination of a year of collecting photos of events (AIDS Day, Patient Fashion Shows, Before and After pictures) and telling the story behind the photos.
“Quality Day” was held at a District Hospital in Ulundi, a 1 ½ hour drive over dirt roads from Mountain View Hospital. The event was supposed to start at 9am, so I tried to round up the driver, vehicle and participants at 7:30am to be able to set up the displays before the speeches began. It has rained almost continuously for the past 2 months so the condition of the road was unpredictable. (The day before the nurse responsible for quality was stranded for 3 hours due to impassable road). The truck was loaded with the display materials and the diesel fuel for the trip was funneled into the tank from plastic carboys. At last we were on our way. In spite of the muddy potholed soaked road, we made the trip without a hitch and arrived at the hospital, which was formerly a Catholic mission. Our display was quickly assembled and we were all proud of our pictorial story with its theme “Mountain High Hospital-Advancing to Quality.” The speeches, dancing Zulus, choirs, and awards went on all day. This event caused a more severe case of TB (Tired Bottom) for those whose Zulu is not what it should be-even the lighthearted jokes were missed, except for a jab by an MC about the excesses of “Quality” exhortation-Even his smile was a “Quality Smile”.
After the last speech at 4:30pm and refreshments (which always consist of beef, rice, squash, curry) it was time to hurry home to do the potholes before darkness set in. I grabbed a large stack of fabric, photos, and handcrafts and headed to the truck. Alas the grassy parking area was full of holes and I felt my left foot twist down into the hole. The stabbing pain prevented me from walking any further so I called to Brendon and he helped me to the truck.
Thus I have spent three days in our one room flat behind the Hospital thinking about our experience here and what we have learned. Such confinement in America to my four bedroom home would have set off depression and anger. However, here I was happy to read – The Poisonwood Bible is an interested parallel to Peace Corps service; the missionaries sole purpose is to evangelize-Peace Corps volunteers are prohibited from proselytizing. However, Peace Corps volunteers and missionaries both make impacts based on relationships with others. So many misunderstandings occur each day but friendships and rapport do develop. Peace Corps service has provided me with a lifetime hobby-Zulu beading- which can be done anywhere, anytime and makes the hours fly. Beading is also a great way to meet people and teach Zulus how to create their culture. Who can resist an invitation to learn how to bead a ring in 2 minutes? So with the added pleasure of space radio and NPR the days have pleasantly drifted by and my foot is healing. A good lesson for the future when Father Time robs one of mobility and health. Happiness is not dependent on circumstances. This experience has produced an improvement in the Serenity prayer which requires one to accept the things that cannot be changed-it is better to not just accept circumstances but relax and enjoy the opportunity! Other Peace Corps volunteers agree that as soon as one realizes that they are stuck at home every night in this country, they develop new interests and learn to make bread, play cards and board games, and even write letters to friends back home.
Several other “calamities” occurred after the foot injury-a major storm knocked out the electricity for 20 hours on Friday and today we have no water (probably due to the electricity issue). However, it is a beautiful spring day and the water will come when it comes.
This year the KwaZuluNatal Zululand District Health “Quality Day Nov. 29” was a day to remember for Mountain High Hospital. Last year the Hospital attended as observers at the government hospital’s displays and award roundup. This year Mountain High “put forth its stuff” with photos, graphs, “Problem, Solution, Results” displays, patient handcrafts, and plenty of red, yellow and blue, the Hospital colors. For me the day was a culmination of a year of collecting photos of events (AIDS Day, Patient Fashion Shows, Before and After pictures) and telling the story behind the photos.
“Quality Day” was held at a District Hospital in Ulundi, a 1 ½ hour drive over dirt roads from Mountain View Hospital. The event was supposed to start at 9am, so I tried to round up the driver, vehicle and participants at 7:30am to be able to set up the displays before the speeches began. It has rained almost continuously for the past 2 months so the condition of the road was unpredictable. (The day before the nurse responsible for quality was stranded for 3 hours due to impassable road). The truck was loaded with the display materials and the diesel fuel for the trip was funneled into the tank from plastic carboys. At last we were on our way. In spite of the muddy potholed soaked road, we made the trip without a hitch and arrived at the hospital, which was formerly a Catholic mission. Our display was quickly assembled and we were all proud of our pictorial story with its theme “Mountain High Hospital-Advancing to Quality.” The speeches, dancing Zulus, choirs, and awards went on all day. This event caused a more severe case of TB (Tired Bottom) for those whose Zulu is not what it should be-even the lighthearted jokes were missed, except for a jab by an MC about the excesses of “Quality” exhortation-Even his smile was a “Quality Smile”.
After the last speech at 4:30pm and refreshments (which always consist of beef, rice, squash, curry) it was time to hurry home to do the potholes before darkness set in. I grabbed a large stack of fabric, photos, and handcrafts and headed to the truck. Alas the grassy parking area was full of holes and I felt my left foot twist down into the hole. The stabbing pain prevented me from walking any further so I called to Brendon and he helped me to the truck.
Thus I have spent three days in our one room flat behind the Hospital thinking about our experience here and what we have learned. Such confinement in America to my four bedroom home would have set off depression and anger. However, here I was happy to read – The Poisonwood Bible is an interested parallel to Peace Corps service; the missionaries sole purpose is to evangelize-Peace Corps volunteers are prohibited from proselytizing. However, Peace Corps volunteers and missionaries both make impacts based on relationships with others. So many misunderstandings occur each day but friendships and rapport do develop. Peace Corps service has provided me with a lifetime hobby-Zulu beading- which can be done anywhere, anytime and makes the hours fly. Beading is also a great way to meet people and teach Zulus how to create their culture. Who can resist an invitation to learn how to bead a ring in 2 minutes? So with the added pleasure of space radio and NPR the days have pleasantly drifted by and my foot is healing. A good lesson for the future when Father Time robs one of mobility and health. Happiness is not dependent on circumstances. This experience has produced an improvement in the Serenity prayer which requires one to accept the things that cannot be changed-it is better to not just accept circumstances but relax and enjoy the opportunity! Other Peace Corps volunteers agree that as soon as one realizes that they are stuck at home every night in this country, they develop new interests and learn to make bread, play cards and board games, and even write letters to friends back home.
Several other “calamities” occurred after the foot injury-a major storm knocked out the electricity for 20 hours on Friday and today we have no water (probably due to the electricity issue). However, it is a beautiful spring day and the water will come when it comes.
Sunday, November 25, 2007
Saturday, November 24, 2007
Thanksgiving with Ambassador Bost
Peace Corps service is not all hair shirt and taxi ordeals. Due to the generosity of the American Ambassador Bost, Peace Corps volunteers were invited to his residence for an All American Thanksgiving Dinner! This feast assuaged the homesickness for the volunteers and marines who attended. Plus it was a wonderful party!
The long trip to Pretoria was worth the effort to be greeted by Ambassador Bost and his wife at their Dutch style home in Waterkloof. The residence stands on a bluff that overlooks the City with a tall American flag flying proudly. This was the first American flag that I have seen in almost two years and it made me feel nostalgic. The home was furnished in beautiful antiques and had that American feel to it that resonates with comfort, style and simplicity. The Ambassador cleared out all of the furniture in his living room to set up tables for the delicious meal that included every imaginable Thanksgiving menu item plus more-turkey, ham, dressing, waldorf salad, green beans, macaroni and cheese, beets and tomatoes, homade cranberry sauce, yams, mashed potatoes and five deserts including ginger cheesecake. The big-hearted Ambassador opens his home every year and knows the appetites of Peace Corps volunteers who are homesick for American cooking. What a gracious host! After dinner the music and dancing started. He and his wife encouraged everyone to participate and let loose on this special day. It felt good to be with Americans and their style of hospitality. The day seemed familiar and bespoke of many holidays at home. The memory will be treasured!
The day was not without its mishaps, however. We received our initiation into the crime of South Africa. Like Thanksgiving at home where Brendon and I go for a run or long walk in the morning after the turkey is in the oven, we set off to walk through the nearby botanical gardens with another PC volunteer. We had been told that the road had a tricky overpass just before the garden starts so were glad to enter a gate for a wetlands preserve next to the botanic gardens. I was determined to see the botanic gardens as the flowers are in full bloom this time of year. Brendon was getting blisters from wearing flip flops so I ran ahead to see if the birds and flowers were worth the effort. He and the other volunteer decided to turn back. After a short time I looked back them and saw that a man had come on the scene and Brendon was waving his arms and yelling. I ran back as the man took off. He had come from the road with a beer bottle in his hand and demanded food and money. He then broke the bottle into sharp shards and said he would kill Brendon if he did not give him money. Brendon and the other volunteer gave him their money and cell phone and the desperate man ran away. No one was physically hurt. However, our spirits were shattered and we felt very stupid for thinking we could take a walk in a nature preserve on a beautiful day. Wrong! Even in groups at 10am in the morning the city is not safe for walking. The crime element must be dealt with if South Africa wishes to have a free society. Security systems and protection for citizens have an extraordinarily high cost for this Country. There is no quick fix for the 50% unemployment as much of the population has no job skills and is poorly educated.
The rest of Thanksgiving weekend was spent with medical appointments and city pleasures. We caught two movies “Beowulf” and “River Queen” which were both delights.
The long trip to Pretoria was worth the effort to be greeted by Ambassador Bost and his wife at their Dutch style home in Waterkloof. The residence stands on a bluff that overlooks the City with a tall American flag flying proudly. This was the first American flag that I have seen in almost two years and it made me feel nostalgic. The home was furnished in beautiful antiques and had that American feel to it that resonates with comfort, style and simplicity. The Ambassador cleared out all of the furniture in his living room to set up tables for the delicious meal that included every imaginable Thanksgiving menu item plus more-turkey, ham, dressing, waldorf salad, green beans, macaroni and cheese, beets and tomatoes, homade cranberry sauce, yams, mashed potatoes and five deserts including ginger cheesecake. The big-hearted Ambassador opens his home every year and knows the appetites of Peace Corps volunteers who are homesick for American cooking. What a gracious host! After dinner the music and dancing started. He and his wife encouraged everyone to participate and let loose on this special day. It felt good to be with Americans and their style of hospitality. The day seemed familiar and bespoke of many holidays at home. The memory will be treasured!
The day was not without its mishaps, however. We received our initiation into the crime of South Africa. Like Thanksgiving at home where Brendon and I go for a run or long walk in the morning after the turkey is in the oven, we set off to walk through the nearby botanical gardens with another PC volunteer. We had been told that the road had a tricky overpass just before the garden starts so were glad to enter a gate for a wetlands preserve next to the botanic gardens. I was determined to see the botanic gardens as the flowers are in full bloom this time of year. Brendon was getting blisters from wearing flip flops so I ran ahead to see if the birds and flowers were worth the effort. He and the other volunteer decided to turn back. After a short time I looked back them and saw that a man had come on the scene and Brendon was waving his arms and yelling. I ran back as the man took off. He had come from the road with a beer bottle in his hand and demanded food and money. He then broke the bottle into sharp shards and said he would kill Brendon if he did not give him money. Brendon and the other volunteer gave him their money and cell phone and the desperate man ran away. No one was physically hurt. However, our spirits were shattered and we felt very stupid for thinking we could take a walk in a nature preserve on a beautiful day. Wrong! Even in groups at 10am in the morning the city is not safe for walking. The crime element must be dealt with if South Africa wishes to have a free society. Security systems and protection for citizens have an extraordinarily high cost for this Country. There is no quick fix for the 50% unemployment as much of the population has no job skills and is poorly educated.
The rest of Thanksgiving weekend was spent with medical appointments and city pleasures. We caught two movies “Beowulf” and “River Queen” which were both delights.
Saturday, November 17, 2007
Community HIV Outreach Project Replaces Capacity Builder
Peace Corps volunteers, Susan and Brendon, explored the manifestation of their role as “NGO Capacity Builders” in a rural AID/TB hospital in Zululand, South Africa. This job title has mystified all volunteers in our PC group from the beginning of our service. After 1 ½ years of volunteer service, the jobs for our peers seem to range from receptionist at the NGO to Operations Manager at a rural hospital. We recently learned that the “Capacity Builder” job classification has evolved into a new project called CHOP “Community HIV Outreach Program.”
The week had it ups and downs, with one day experiencing deep satisfaction and enjoyment from our Peace Corps service and the next day, frustration and annoyance.
On Wednesday, Brendon and I hiked down into the Valley community to take photos of the Mountain High Mobile Clinic in action for an upcoming display at “Quality Day” for the District Health Dept. The day was stunningly beautiful with the Valley in full green, women carrying trees on their heads (twala) as they walked as talked and schoolgirls giddy with excitement as the school term ended. It was hard to believe our good fortune to be assigned to hike through the trees and rocky hillside as part of our jobs here. We met the Mobile Clinic as it came over the top of the mountain and parked under the large tree which serves as shade for the patients who come to receive treatment. The mobile clinic is one of the successes of Mountain High Hospital as it serves 14 extremely rural villages where there is no medical care available. Nurses diagnose, treat and care for many acute and chronic conditions, sometimes seeing more than 100 patients a day. Today the turnout was light at this first stop as the community had been given insufficient notice the clinic was coming, but the nurses did not get discouraged. The new nurse/driver turned the converted pickup truck around on the narrow steep dirt road and headed for the next site.
The next day the health department inspectors came to do an audit of the Hospital and the ambiguity of the Peace Corps role as “Capacity Builder” came to light. The director of the hospital was away for the day. Brendon had been sent to the monthly manager’s meeting for the district health. Thursday’s schedule for the Occupational Therapy Program for the patients is leather day with the men making simple sandals and the women small bags. In the middle of the lesson on how to glue the insole to the sole, the head nurse summoned me to the audit team to explain the hospital accounting/accountability process. I lacked the authority and responsibility to properly explain the process and was frustrated by being called upon to represent the hospital. Capacity building entails helping and supporting individuals that have the responsibility and authority to exercise those powers. The greatest satisfaction at this hospital has been teaching basic skills to AIDs patients and helping the administrative staff to learn modern office practices. This experience in dealing with health department auditors has given me great sympathy for the personnel in drug manufacturing companies in California who were called upon to answer for their corporate quality assurance programs but lacked the proper background to answer the complicated questions during the audits of my former career. I answered the questions in the most honest, correct fashion that I knew but was disturbed that I was not the best person to be doing this job and it was NOT capacity building as next year the auditors would be back and the Peace Corps volunteers would be home.
Today our positive experience in SA bounced back as we traveled to our shopping town to participate in our church’s annual bazaar held in front of the 150 year old historic church in the heart of town. I sold fleece hats and scarves while the church members held a “jumble sale” (rummage), cooked sausages/curry, and sold home baked goods and preserves. South Africa produces very delicious steamed puddings, scones, marmalades, cheese cakes and boers wors. The prices for the items at the jumble sale were low and lower so the customers left happy. The fleece hats for sustainability of the occupational therapy program at Mountain High also sold well so the day was a big success. The weather helped and the day was lot of fun.
The week had it ups and downs, with one day experiencing deep satisfaction and enjoyment from our Peace Corps service and the next day, frustration and annoyance.
On Wednesday, Brendon and I hiked down into the Valley community to take photos of the Mountain High Mobile Clinic in action for an upcoming display at “Quality Day” for the District Health Dept. The day was stunningly beautiful with the Valley in full green, women carrying trees on their heads (twala) as they walked as talked and schoolgirls giddy with excitement as the school term ended. It was hard to believe our good fortune to be assigned to hike through the trees and rocky hillside as part of our jobs here. We met the Mobile Clinic as it came over the top of the mountain and parked under the large tree which serves as shade for the patients who come to receive treatment. The mobile clinic is one of the successes of Mountain High Hospital as it serves 14 extremely rural villages where there is no medical care available. Nurses diagnose, treat and care for many acute and chronic conditions, sometimes seeing more than 100 patients a day. Today the turnout was light at this first stop as the community had been given insufficient notice the clinic was coming, but the nurses did not get discouraged. The new nurse/driver turned the converted pickup truck around on the narrow steep dirt road and headed for the next site.
The next day the health department inspectors came to do an audit of the Hospital and the ambiguity of the Peace Corps role as “Capacity Builder” came to light. The director of the hospital was away for the day. Brendon had been sent to the monthly manager’s meeting for the district health. Thursday’s schedule for the Occupational Therapy Program for the patients is leather day with the men making simple sandals and the women small bags. In the middle of the lesson on how to glue the insole to the sole, the head nurse summoned me to the audit team to explain the hospital accounting/accountability process. I lacked the authority and responsibility to properly explain the process and was frustrated by being called upon to represent the hospital. Capacity building entails helping and supporting individuals that have the responsibility and authority to exercise those powers. The greatest satisfaction at this hospital has been teaching basic skills to AIDs patients and helping the administrative staff to learn modern office practices. This experience in dealing with health department auditors has given me great sympathy for the personnel in drug manufacturing companies in California who were called upon to answer for their corporate quality assurance programs but lacked the proper background to answer the complicated questions during the audits of my former career. I answered the questions in the most honest, correct fashion that I knew but was disturbed that I was not the best person to be doing this job and it was NOT capacity building as next year the auditors would be back and the Peace Corps volunteers would be home.
Today our positive experience in SA bounced back as we traveled to our shopping town to participate in our church’s annual bazaar held in front of the 150 year old historic church in the heart of town. I sold fleece hats and scarves while the church members held a “jumble sale” (rummage), cooked sausages/curry, and sold home baked goods and preserves. South Africa produces very delicious steamed puddings, scones, marmalades, cheese cakes and boers wors. The prices for the items at the jumble sale were low and lower so the customers left happy. The fleece hats for sustainability of the occupational therapy program at Mountain High also sold well so the day was a big success. The weather helped and the day was lot of fun.
Sunday, November 11, 2007
A Day of Eland
After a week of heavy rain, fog and mist we were hesitant to travel to our shopping town for a soggy weekend. Its charms are clearly outdoor activities like game spotting on the hill, hiking or bird watching. However, having business in town and needing to go to the post office, we got up at 5 am, looked out the window and sighed at more fog and rain. By 6:10 am Mr. Zulu’s taxi was almost full due to the high school students completing their examinations and wanting to go home. We were fortunate to get the last two spots for the ride to town. Mr. Zulu drove very cautiously, demonstrating his expertise that anticipates every curve and unseen obstacle. The road is treacherous under ideal conditions with cows, goats and pedestrians appearing from nowhere, stalled cars and taxis racing each other to town.
Halfway down the mountain the fog lifted and our mood brightened at the sight of the gorgeous mountains, forests, badlands, and new spring flowers of Zululand. By the time we arrived in town, the sun was shining and our spirits were soaring. After our business was done we headed up the Vryheid Hill to see the game and new spring flora. The short hike to the game preserve was amply rewarded with many beautiful birds that have returned from the north. The big surprise was the herd of eland at the top of the hill enjoying the new grass. Usually game spotting requires hiking to the summit and then continuing down the slope to a plateau. The game look like brown rocks from the summit which start moving as one gets closer. Today the elands and impala were grazing on the fresh green grasses at the summit. Two solo bucks startled us in their huge magnificent forms silhouetted along the mountain ridge. They are among the largest of the antelopes and dwarfed the zebras nearby. Farther down on the slope we spotted more “brown rocks” which amazingly was a herd of 50 eland with their newborn young. They were grazing with impalas as escorts. The new mothers watched us intently and began to move away. We quietly back off and headed back to town.
Such is life in Africa as a Peace Corps volunteers. When you are discouraged and hate the conditions, amazing events occur and your hate is replaced with awe and love. Each day brings new experiences that may be raw but make one feel alive in contrast to the dull routines of life in the first world.
A conversation with a group of British tourists on Sat. night brought the reality of life in the first world and the lack of understanding about the scope of the AIDS pandemic. The Brits were part of a tour group that stops in Vryheid to tour the Anglo Boer War battlefields. They were incredulous when we explained our work as Peace Corps volunteers at Mountain High Hospital. “Are there really people sick with AIDS in this country” was their query. They had been in South Africa for two weeks and had no inkling of the ravages of this disease. In contrast, the disease came even closer than the patients whom I only know as sick people. A handsome heavyset hospital driver who charmed everyone with his clownish personality has grown very thin and come down with pneumonia. An office mate has lost weight drastically and is on ARVs. Both of these men are my friends and I am hurt as their countenance is gloomy and their eyes have lost their sparkle. Who is next to be emaciated, plagued with skin ailments, mouth sores and severe diarrhea? AIDS seems to zap one’s personality as people in their prime years (25years to 40) become literal skeletons of their former selves. All South Africans should be tested, if only to reduce the stigma. Fear of being labeled as HIV positive prevents people from being tested. Without a test they cannot obtain the ARV’s that will keep them healthy and productive.
Halfway down the mountain the fog lifted and our mood brightened at the sight of the gorgeous mountains, forests, badlands, and new spring flowers of Zululand. By the time we arrived in town, the sun was shining and our spirits were soaring. After our business was done we headed up the Vryheid Hill to see the game and new spring flora. The short hike to the game preserve was amply rewarded with many beautiful birds that have returned from the north. The big surprise was the herd of eland at the top of the hill enjoying the new grass. Usually game spotting requires hiking to the summit and then continuing down the slope to a plateau. The game look like brown rocks from the summit which start moving as one gets closer. Today the elands and impala were grazing on the fresh green grasses at the summit. Two solo bucks startled us in their huge magnificent forms silhouetted along the mountain ridge. They are among the largest of the antelopes and dwarfed the zebras nearby. Farther down on the slope we spotted more “brown rocks” which amazingly was a herd of 50 eland with their newborn young. They were grazing with impalas as escorts. The new mothers watched us intently and began to move away. We quietly back off and headed back to town.
Such is life in Africa as a Peace Corps volunteers. When you are discouraged and hate the conditions, amazing events occur and your hate is replaced with awe and love. Each day brings new experiences that may be raw but make one feel alive in contrast to the dull routines of life in the first world.
A conversation with a group of British tourists on Sat. night brought the reality of life in the first world and the lack of understanding about the scope of the AIDS pandemic. The Brits were part of a tour group that stops in Vryheid to tour the Anglo Boer War battlefields. They were incredulous when we explained our work as Peace Corps volunteers at Mountain High Hospital. “Are there really people sick with AIDS in this country” was their query. They had been in South Africa for two weeks and had no inkling of the ravages of this disease. In contrast, the disease came even closer than the patients whom I only know as sick people. A handsome heavyset hospital driver who charmed everyone with his clownish personality has grown very thin and come down with pneumonia. An office mate has lost weight drastically and is on ARVs. Both of these men are my friends and I am hurt as their countenance is gloomy and their eyes have lost their sparkle. Who is next to be emaciated, plagued with skin ailments, mouth sores and severe diarrhea? AIDS seems to zap one’s personality as people in their prime years (25years to 40) become literal skeletons of their former selves. All South Africans should be tested, if only to reduce the stigma. Fear of being labeled as HIV positive prevents people from being tested. Without a test they cannot obtain the ARV’s that will keep them healthy and productive.
Tuesday, November 06, 2007
Test Market
Going retail is not so easy as I discovered today when I took the stash of 100 fleece hats and scarves to the only local place of trade- Pension Day at Mountain High. For the last two weeks the Peace Corps funded sewing machines have been cranking out the fleece – hats and scarves in all sizes and prints with even dull navy for the school set. The endeavor is to make the Occupational Therapy Program at Mountain High Hospital sustainable after the Peace Corps volunteers go home. Selling 1500 hats and 1000 scarves before Winter (March 2008) would create a fund that will pay for the Volunteer Coordinator and handcraft materials for the AIDs patients for the future. Without a sustainability program, the patients, who are confined here for 3 months, will have nothing to do with their long days and may abscond.
The hats have unique finishing touches like pom poms or tailored buttons and are a great bargain at R10 for adult and R8 for the kids. ($1.50, $1.10). So with high hopes and boxes of newly created chapeau, I headed off to the Pension Day melee held at a tuck shop/liquor store 3km from the hospital.
A word about Pension Day! In South Africa the retired, disabled and unemployed mothers of small children must physically present themselves to a neighborhood site and sign for their stipends. Pension Day brings out the hawkers and thieves so the event is well attended by the marketeers ( including Mountain High Hospital with fleece treasures) and those wanting to take advantage of the populace receiving their pensions plus a coterie of welfare workers and security guards. Pension distribution points in very rural areas, such as our home, are defined by geographic features including large trees, creeks, or tuck shops. (very small mini marts). This seemed like a good place to test the market for the fleece hats, not to mention that the pensioners have cash in hand and come ready to spend at the displays set up on the ground around the distribution points. Pension Day is unmistakable in South Africa as a cow pasture next to a large tree is taken over by entrepreneurs selling fresh fruit, sewing supplies, underwear, children’s school uniforms, and always muti (herbal medicines).
The forum for the first sale of the fleece product seemed perfect – close to home, an audience that would be familiar with the Hospital, buyers with cash in hand, and cold weather to boost sales. However, the cold weather turned very wet early in the day. The Volunteer Coordinator showed up but had to go home with the flu and the day grew colder and stormier. The Jabule group had a Bingo Game as planned but many patients stayed in their beds on this cold wet day. I was not to be deterred from my test market and at 1 pm jumped at the chance for transport to the Pension Point, loaded with boxes and bags of hats and scarves.
By the time we arrived at the small tuck shop the rain was coming down in torrents and I was unwilling to join the hawkers with their wares laid on tarps next to the dirt road leading to the tuck shop as I did not want to get sopping wet and ruin the my stock. The driver let me off in front of the tuck shop. I grabbed the two boxes, one plastic bag of goods and the black plastic chair that I planned to use for display and ran into the small covered porch in front of the tuck shop. There was just enough room for the chair and me to stand in the crowd enjoying pension day. Unfortunately the tuck shop shares the porch with the only liquor store in the area and the patrons were already feeling the joys of Pension Day. I set up my small sign and samples of the beautiful fleece. Several well juiced young men sauntered up to see what was up. Trouble!!! The young men brought out the young women who started to titter. Flashes of fleece bolted before my eyes. Gales of laughter belted out. This was not the target market or optimal market conditions. One young man started a conversation about the hats while another skirted around the side. Finally, a go-go walked up and told me to stack all of the merchandise and put it back in the plastic bag. She helped me load in back into the containers and told me that she was the mother of the young girl who had tried to teach me Zulu a year ago when we first came to South Africa. She then held up the hats and made two sales. A man came forward and greeted me as Jabule, my nickname meaning happiness. He had been a patient at the hospital a few months ago and participated in the handcrafts program. Of course he was not interest in purchasing any fleece as weekly he sewed his own hats and scarves but his kindness was appreciated in this audience. After an hour, only a few more hats were sold. The driver from the Hospital appeared and it was time to go. I loaded my stock in the back of the pick-up and headed home. At the gate the driver stopped to let off some passengers. After he parked in the grounds I tried to retrieve my remaining stock of hats and scarves and discovered that one box was missing. The driver shook his head and pointed back to the gate. I ran to the gate and found the box sitting in the mud with the lid off. All of the hats were intact inside.
So how does the income generation project look at the end of this stormy day?
I believe my location was not the best as it was in direct competition with liquor sales but the afternoon was certainly a learning experience. Never do this as a solo! Never do this on a stormy day! Never get near liquor sales! And for sure try again as the fleece products were initiated by the local populace and meet a need.
The hats have unique finishing touches like pom poms or tailored buttons and are a great bargain at R10 for adult and R8 for the kids. ($1.50, $1.10). So with high hopes and boxes of newly created chapeau, I headed off to the Pension Day melee held at a tuck shop/liquor store 3km from the hospital.
A word about Pension Day! In South Africa the retired, disabled and unemployed mothers of small children must physically present themselves to a neighborhood site and sign for their stipends. Pension Day brings out the hawkers and thieves so the event is well attended by the marketeers ( including Mountain High Hospital with fleece treasures) and those wanting to take advantage of the populace receiving their pensions plus a coterie of welfare workers and security guards. Pension distribution points in very rural areas, such as our home, are defined by geographic features including large trees, creeks, or tuck shops. (very small mini marts). This seemed like a good place to test the market for the fleece hats, not to mention that the pensioners have cash in hand and come ready to spend at the displays set up on the ground around the distribution points. Pension Day is unmistakable in South Africa as a cow pasture next to a large tree is taken over by entrepreneurs selling fresh fruit, sewing supplies, underwear, children’s school uniforms, and always muti (herbal medicines).
The forum for the first sale of the fleece product seemed perfect – close to home, an audience that would be familiar with the Hospital, buyers with cash in hand, and cold weather to boost sales. However, the cold weather turned very wet early in the day. The Volunteer Coordinator showed up but had to go home with the flu and the day grew colder and stormier. The Jabule group had a Bingo Game as planned but many patients stayed in their beds on this cold wet day. I was not to be deterred from my test market and at 1 pm jumped at the chance for transport to the Pension Point, loaded with boxes and bags of hats and scarves.
By the time we arrived at the small tuck shop the rain was coming down in torrents and I was unwilling to join the hawkers with their wares laid on tarps next to the dirt road leading to the tuck shop as I did not want to get sopping wet and ruin the my stock. The driver let me off in front of the tuck shop. I grabbed the two boxes, one plastic bag of goods and the black plastic chair that I planned to use for display and ran into the small covered porch in front of the tuck shop. There was just enough room for the chair and me to stand in the crowd enjoying pension day. Unfortunately the tuck shop shares the porch with the only liquor store in the area and the patrons were already feeling the joys of Pension Day. I set up my small sign and samples of the beautiful fleece. Several well juiced young men sauntered up to see what was up. Trouble!!! The young men brought out the young women who started to titter. Flashes of fleece bolted before my eyes. Gales of laughter belted out. This was not the target market or optimal market conditions. One young man started a conversation about the hats while another skirted around the side. Finally, a go-go walked up and told me to stack all of the merchandise and put it back in the plastic bag. She helped me load in back into the containers and told me that she was the mother of the young girl who had tried to teach me Zulu a year ago when we first came to South Africa. She then held up the hats and made two sales. A man came forward and greeted me as Jabule, my nickname meaning happiness. He had been a patient at the hospital a few months ago and participated in the handcrafts program. Of course he was not interest in purchasing any fleece as weekly he sewed his own hats and scarves but his kindness was appreciated in this audience. After an hour, only a few more hats were sold. The driver from the Hospital appeared and it was time to go. I loaded my stock in the back of the pick-up and headed home. At the gate the driver stopped to let off some passengers. After he parked in the grounds I tried to retrieve my remaining stock of hats and scarves and discovered that one box was missing. The driver shook his head and pointed back to the gate. I ran to the gate and found the box sitting in the mud with the lid off. All of the hats were intact inside.
So how does the income generation project look at the end of this stormy day?
I believe my location was not the best as it was in direct competition with liquor sales but the afternoon was certainly a learning experience. Never do this as a solo! Never do this on a stormy day! Never get near liquor sales! And for sure try again as the fleece products were initiated by the local populace and meet a need.
Sunday, October 28, 2007
Fog Blog
This week was a lesson in P and F (patience and flexibility), the buzzwords of Peace Corps Existence. After a beautiful spring day last Sunday, the mountain turned into cold fog and mist. The view into the valley was a solid grey wall, revealing none of the life or sound in the kraals below. Each day, the moist air seemed to get heavier and colder as the dank wind blew through our flat and office. The air was so damp that even the duct tape we used to seal the windows slid down the window sill. We opened the curtains each morning hoping for a break in the fog so that we could get our washing done and the clothes would dry but the fog would not let up. Our Saturday trip to town turned sour as we missed the 6am taxi and had to hike to the tar road to hitch a ride or hope for the bus. All passing taxis were full and no one would stop for the strangers waiting by the side of the road so by 1030am we walked back to the Hospital to settle down for the day. Locals accept the vagaries of transportation and take the delays in stride and with good humor but us Americans think about wasted time and are annoyed with changed plans.
Amazingly we had a great afternoon in spite of the change in plans. The space radio was working in the fog so we were able to catch NPR radio shows including Click N Clack Car talk and Punchline. Surely passing patients wondered about the gales of laughter emanating from the flat behind the business office. This morning (Sunday) turned out bright and sunny so we tried again to head to town and caught a taxi on the tar road minutes after putting our index finger into the air bidding for a ride. Public transportation is doable-it is just uncertain and one has to be prepared to wait or give up when it just isn’t going to happen. The sad fact is that many unemployed people living here at Mountain High could get decent jobs in town but they cannot get reliable transportation to the job and there is no housing for them in town. So intelligent, capable men and women remain unemployed and unable to support their families.
The hat marathon is underway in earnest. By Friday 60 hats were sewn and ready to hit the market. By Friday afternoon the staff had scarfed up over 20 hats and were asking for more. (Of course some sales were IOU and some were layaways, known here as laybyes). But the enthusiasm is building and next week we will hit the pensioner market. Who knows, maybe even the taxi rank!!
Amazingly we had a great afternoon in spite of the change in plans. The space radio was working in the fog so we were able to catch NPR radio shows including Click N Clack Car talk and Punchline. Surely passing patients wondered about the gales of laughter emanating from the flat behind the business office. This morning (Sunday) turned out bright and sunny so we tried again to head to town and caught a taxi on the tar road minutes after putting our index finger into the air bidding for a ride. Public transportation is doable-it is just uncertain and one has to be prepared to wait or give up when it just isn’t going to happen. The sad fact is that many unemployed people living here at Mountain High could get decent jobs in town but they cannot get reliable transportation to the job and there is no housing for them in town. So intelligent, capable men and women remain unemployed and unable to support their families.
The hat marathon is underway in earnest. By Friday 60 hats were sewn and ready to hit the market. By Friday afternoon the staff had scarfed up over 20 hats and were asking for more. (Of course some sales were IOU and some were layaways, known here as laybyes). But the enthusiasm is building and next week we will hit the pensioner market. Who knows, maybe even the taxi rank!!
Monday, October 22, 2007
Hats Are Happening at Mountain High
This week started the campaign for sustainability of the occupational therapy program at Mountain View Hospital-Can income or funds be generated to keep the AIDS patient’s handcrafts going after we finish our service? To date around 300 patients have participated in the Jabule (Happiness) Sizabuntu Helping Project by learning dressmaking skills, beading a necklace, making a pair of sandals from black rubber soles, attending a cooking lesson or just playing bingo for the fun of it.
So how does a US Peace Corps volunteer make a US supported program for AIDS patients continue after the US money is gone and the Americans hurry home to resume their lives in Palos Verdes. The answer is HATS! Or at least this is the plan. For one year the beautiful fleece hats and scarves hand sewn by the patients have been the envy of the staff and visitors. Originally I envisioned selling the exotic Zulu beaded jewelry to provide funds for more beads and fabric but have since learned the age old problem with a product-Where is the market? However, all Zulus love warm fleece hats and scarves when Winter comes and they will pay for style and color. So with the help of the two sewing machines provided by US grant money a sewing marathon has begun to produce 1500 fleece hats with jaunty trims and 1000 matching scarves. The hats and scarves will be sold at pension distribution points and in local towns for R10 ($1.50) which will provide a profit of R6 to keep the program going.
A test market sample of 100 hats and scarves was underway this week. The Jabule Volunteer is anxiously awaiting the results of the sales campaign. What will be the big seller- The cute blue teddy bears or the Burberry knockoff plaid. What about the girly green and purple abstract stripes or the he-man blue, rust and diamonds? Are the hats beguiling enough to make the grandmothers (gogos) part with their scarce funds for a winsome chapeau for their favorite toddler? Will the cash generated be enough to employ the local manager of the program and provide craft materials for the patients? Is the price too low or too high? This experience is a lesson is starting up a small business and has all of the pitfalls of new businesses. However it also has the joy and creativity of making something from nothing, filling a need in the community and teaching a skill to people who want to learn.
Spring came to Mountain High this month! The hills are green as green can be. The Acacias are budding, the green grass is wet and heavy with dew and flowers are pushing their way up through the green carpet. Spring and summer bring the mist to the mountain but also the long-awaited moisture to the empty water spigots and gardens that were recently planted. A hike through the valley today was a very different experience than the last hike in July (Winter). Today the cows were munching the new grass and the matrons were gathered at the water faucets with their buckets. At last the water flows freely from the spigots - they are in a very good mood as it is a beautiful spring day in KwaZuluNatal. Likewise South Africa is also celebrating their green and gold win over Great Britain in yesterday’s rugby match!
So how does a US Peace Corps volunteer make a US supported program for AIDS patients continue after the US money is gone and the Americans hurry home to resume their lives in Palos Verdes. The answer is HATS! Or at least this is the plan. For one year the beautiful fleece hats and scarves hand sewn by the patients have been the envy of the staff and visitors. Originally I envisioned selling the exotic Zulu beaded jewelry to provide funds for more beads and fabric but have since learned the age old problem with a product-Where is the market? However, all Zulus love warm fleece hats and scarves when Winter comes and they will pay for style and color. So with the help of the two sewing machines provided by US grant money a sewing marathon has begun to produce 1500 fleece hats with jaunty trims and 1000 matching scarves. The hats and scarves will be sold at pension distribution points and in local towns for R10 ($1.50) which will provide a profit of R6 to keep the program going.
A test market sample of 100 hats and scarves was underway this week. The Jabule Volunteer is anxiously awaiting the results of the sales campaign. What will be the big seller- The cute blue teddy bears or the Burberry knockoff plaid. What about the girly green and purple abstract stripes or the he-man blue, rust and diamonds? Are the hats beguiling enough to make the grandmothers (gogos) part with their scarce funds for a winsome chapeau for their favorite toddler? Will the cash generated be enough to employ the local manager of the program and provide craft materials for the patients? Is the price too low or too high? This experience is a lesson is starting up a small business and has all of the pitfalls of new businesses. However it also has the joy and creativity of making something from nothing, filling a need in the community and teaching a skill to people who want to learn.
Spring came to Mountain High this month! The hills are green as green can be. The Acacias are budding, the green grass is wet and heavy with dew and flowers are pushing their way up through the green carpet. Spring and summer bring the mist to the mountain but also the long-awaited moisture to the empty water spigots and gardens that were recently planted. A hike through the valley today was a very different experience than the last hike in July (Winter). Today the cows were munching the new grass and the matrons were gathered at the water faucets with their buckets. At last the water flows freely from the spigots - they are in a very good mood as it is a beautiful spring day in KwaZuluNatal. Likewise South Africa is also celebrating their green and gold win over Great Britain in yesterday’s rugby match!
Sunday, October 14, 2007
Training at the Honeymoon Lodge
It is Sunday and we have returned to Vryheid as the last leg in our 3 day journey to return to Mountain High Hospital after a week of Peace Corps training at the Honeymoon Lodge in Polokwane (capital of Limpopo, the northern province of South Africa). The Honeymoon Lodge was an appropriate venue as the setting was quite romantic with candlelight for several hours each day due to power failures. Ironically, most of our NGO Capacity Building Group of 30 volunteers are beautiful young women who were not impressed with the romance of the Honeymoon Lodge. The training was the mid-service component with updates on HIV AIDS in South Africa from the CDC and a glimpse into the lives of the other volunteers, professionally and personally.
Most of the volunteers have suffered from the mid-service slump and burnout. They told stories of being shot at in Durban and having the pellet removed, muggings in fancy neighborhoods in broad daylight, being robbed at Backpackers hostels, and Rohypnol lacing of drinks in a college town drinking hole. They also shared their disappointments and failures with their efforts to help the NGO’s and start up new AIDS programs. They have all experienced loneliness, cynicism and boredom. However, the group also discussed their successes with OVC drop in centers and feeding programs, production of an AIDS testing video for distribution in the high schools, lifeskills and empowerment programs for teenagers, computer training for boys in a sports program, and upgrading of administrative abilities at the NGOs. The young women who initially were coquettish people pleasers have matured into thoughtful, focused individuals who know who they are and can deal with unwanted attention and daily marriage proposals. All of us expressed resolve and determination to finish our service and to make the remaining months significant and productive. Brendon and I discussed not only trying to make our current projects sustainable, but seeking out a secondary project that would help the AIDS orphans in our community on a daily basis. We drew strength from the other volunteers as it is only another volunteer who understands the difficulties and triumphs of this remarkable journey.
The nurse from the CDC presented an overview of the current status of HIV/AIDs in South Africa. The good news is that the precipitous climb in infection rates (20% for all of South Africa, 40% for the pregnant women in KwaZuluNatal) is finally leveling off. When we arrived last July there was no end in sight and dire predictions were being made that the infection rate could climb to 50% or higher. The other piece of good news is that the infection rates among those under 20 years have dropped significantly. The lifeskills programs in the schools teaching critical thinking and decision making are credited for the big drop among teenagers. The bad news is that the rates shoot way up as soon as the teenagers leave home for university or jobs. Another aspect is the huge number of immigrants that are fleeing crises in their homeland. South Africa is absorbing many of the refugees from Zimbabwe and their lives are in chaos as they build shanty towns and form new alliances, contributing to the AIDS crisis.
The training was filled with laughter and gallows humor but also respect and awe for other volunteers that are very special people and are committed to using their skills to help this country. The three simple goals of the Peace Corps have not changed in 50 years: provide skills to countries that need help; develop understanding for the country; and help the country to understand America. We have learned so much about South Africa. What have they learned about America from us?
Most of the volunteers have suffered from the mid-service slump and burnout. They told stories of being shot at in Durban and having the pellet removed, muggings in fancy neighborhoods in broad daylight, being robbed at Backpackers hostels, and Rohypnol lacing of drinks in a college town drinking hole. They also shared their disappointments and failures with their efforts to help the NGO’s and start up new AIDS programs. They have all experienced loneliness, cynicism and boredom. However, the group also discussed their successes with OVC drop in centers and feeding programs, production of an AIDS testing video for distribution in the high schools, lifeskills and empowerment programs for teenagers, computer training for boys in a sports program, and upgrading of administrative abilities at the NGOs. The young women who initially were coquettish people pleasers have matured into thoughtful, focused individuals who know who they are and can deal with unwanted attention and daily marriage proposals. All of us expressed resolve and determination to finish our service and to make the remaining months significant and productive. Brendon and I discussed not only trying to make our current projects sustainable, but seeking out a secondary project that would help the AIDS orphans in our community on a daily basis. We drew strength from the other volunteers as it is only another volunteer who understands the difficulties and triumphs of this remarkable journey.
The nurse from the CDC presented an overview of the current status of HIV/AIDs in South Africa. The good news is that the precipitous climb in infection rates (20% for all of South Africa, 40% for the pregnant women in KwaZuluNatal) is finally leveling off. When we arrived last July there was no end in sight and dire predictions were being made that the infection rate could climb to 50% or higher. The other piece of good news is that the infection rates among those under 20 years have dropped significantly. The lifeskills programs in the schools teaching critical thinking and decision making are credited for the big drop among teenagers. The bad news is that the rates shoot way up as soon as the teenagers leave home for university or jobs. Another aspect is the huge number of immigrants that are fleeing crises in their homeland. South Africa is absorbing many of the refugees from Zimbabwe and their lives are in chaos as they build shanty towns and form new alliances, contributing to the AIDS crisis.
The training was filled with laughter and gallows humor but also respect and awe for other volunteers that are very special people and are committed to using their skills to help this country. The three simple goals of the Peace Corps have not changed in 50 years: provide skills to countries that need help; develop understanding for the country; and help the country to understand America. We have learned so much about South Africa. What have they learned about America from us?
Sunday, October 07, 2007
Saturday, October 06, 2007
SpringBreak-Hyenas at the Watering Hole
Our goal this week was to travel the length of Kruger National Park as we took leave from Mountain High Hospital with our son Erik. We also sought fine game spotting and the joys of life in the Bush. The Park is approximately 200 miles long, consisting of different ecosystems every 30 miles or so. So driving through the park is like traveling through thick acacia woodland, savannah, rocky red sandstone outcrops, riverine, mopane groves and grassland.
We entered the Park at the South end through the Numbi gate and headed for Pretorioskop Bush Camp, our home for a few nights while we toured the south end of Kruger. What a shock to see that much of the terrain in the lower half of the park had been scorched to the earth in the tremendous July fire. Being cut off from the media, we had no inkling of the fire’s extent, burning every tree and blade of grass to char. In some of the most devastated areas, shoots of grass were noted sprouting up in the blackened earth and impalas beginning to graze on the new grass. However it appears that even the seeds in other areas were destroyed in this horrific fire. We found routes that avoided the fire’s fury and enjoyed viewing lions at a waterhole, white rhinos feasting on the grasses, herds of cape buffalo grazing, six rare sable buck eating new shoots of grass and even a leopard sitting on the road during an evening game drive.
Pretorioskop Bush Camp has it own charms as impalas, wart hogs, vervet monkeys enter the camp daily to feast on the grass parklands and entertain the guests. A unique feature of the camp is its bare rock swimming pool which was refreshing on a hot day after game viewing.
Kruger’s Numbi Gate at the south end is a short drive to Blyde River Canyon in the Drakensburg Mountains. Blyde River Canyon is the South African equivalent of the Grand Canyon and certainly its equal in spectacle and magnificence. The canyon starts as a small river gouging out round “potholes” in the rocks with swirling eddies. Twenty miles away the river has cut a canyon miles deep with rounded Rondaval forms, red rock tables and dense vegetation The snaking of the river is visible far below the viewing point. The Panorama drive includes several waterfalls and stops in pleasant tourist towns with old pioneer re-creations and great locally grown coffee and pancakes.
However, the most fun was driving the length of the park, viewing the terrain and watching the game roll out. About two hours from Pretoriokop the parades of elephants began with the females and babies traveling in a train and the bulls solitarily gorging on trees by the road. Viewing game at this close distance brings awe and some anxiety to the viewer. Elephants are known to become angry and attack vehicles when they are disturbed or threatened. Their tusks can easily penetrate the side of a car. The situation seems benign but there is an element of fear. Baboons appeared in tandem with the elephants as the troupes ran along the road with the babies hanging onto the mother’s bellies. They are charming to watch but can also be very dangerous when aroused.
A side trip to a watering hole brought the drama of a lifetime! A flurry of fur and activity were spotted at the edge of the watering hole. Six spotted hyenas were pulling at the carcass of a male kudu with the giant spiral horn jutting boldly into the air. Ten brown vultures lay in wait for their turn at the kill. Every few minutes a vulture would venture closer to the carcass-a hyena would then charge toward the vulture and force them back to wait. The hyenas grew hot as they worked at meat pawing and clawing. They jumped into the watering hole and splashed with glee just like dogs at the beach. Then back to work. Off in the distance a stork waited for its turn to enter the watering hole but was no competition for the hyenas and vultures. One brassy hyena got hold of a Kudu leg and tromped off into the bush with his luscious treat leaving the others to push pull and grab. Then splash down to cool off in the muddy water.
Our destination for exploring the northern half of the park was Mopani Bush Camp, named after the mopane trees that cover the landscape. Accommodations consisted of a self catering thatched rock house with full kitchen, sleeping for 6 and a covered patio. The camp is situated above a dam where game come to drink and hippos lounge in the dirt. The camp is the real mopane bush with an electrified fence around. It felt and smelt like the bush as opposed to the older Pretorioskop in the south with grass parklands inside the game fence.
Game viewing from the car or jeep is fun but the sights, smells and feel of the bush demand that one hit the dirt. The national parks offer day hikes in the bush accompanied by nattily dressed naturalists armed with rifles, just in case. So at 5am we headed off in a jeep with two naturalists and two rifles to experience the bush on foot. We drove a few miles from the bush camp, crossing a river with crocodiles swimming through the water and a hippo clan dozing in the center, looking like rounded rocks. As we got out of the jeep a twinge of fear hit but also a sense that we finally had the opportunity to explore and experience the real bush in a slow way. The guide explained that we would walk single file in silence three hours through the bush and could click our fingers if we wanted any explanation of the flora or fauna. Hiking is my favorite pastime so this sounded like great fun. We set off down a riverbed next to the mopane trees. The landscape was dotted with termite mounds and dung of all sizes, shapes and freshness. Dirt for the termite mound is dug below the ground and combined with termite saliva. Then Amos, the senior naturalist, described the source of the dung (giraffe-small elegant; elephant-profuse, wet and fibrous; impala smaller and used as territorial markings) the significance, and the next customer who will use the fresh dung for food. The guides also tore off leaves from the bush plants to smell; one like cat urine, one sweet, and a wild mint. The guides knew the names and calls of every bird and their peculiar habits. The female lays her eggs and finds a new mate; the male guards the eggs. We walked by impalas who quickly ran away, scared by our scent. Ironically, the game are not intimidated by vehicles and are accustomed to the sound of the engines. Man on foot is another story.
Our guides took us to a small rocky mound where they pointed out a large grey object that looked like a rock in the distance. In fact it was an elephant and they turned toward the mark. We walked for about a quarter mile across the bush silent in our single file trek to the game. We came up on the bull elephant and its bull companion tearing mopane trees with their trunks and stuffing the branches and leaves into their mouths. This certainly was more thrilling and more ominous than viewing from a car. Plus the experience of walking through the bush and coming out of the trees upon these massive creatures eating and living their lives was both exciting and humbling. We watched in silence from 30 meters trying not to anger them or scare them. These were older bulls, massive in size. We headed off on our trek and sat down on some rocks for snacks. Off in the bush we spotted two hyenas darting off to find what they could scavenge for the day. They look and move like very large dogs with long fur and rounded features. We arrived back at the jeep and felt safe again to be protected by man’s inventions but missing the closeness to the earth and its smells and sounds.
After the game hike we tried another drive through the back treks of Mopane, crossing the Tropic of Capricorn line. The drive seemed insulated compared to the hike but when the stalking leopard crossed the road I was glad to be safe in the car. The back roads yielded beautiful birds; ostrich, ground hornbills, yellow hornbills, vultures and hammerkops. The delights of Kruger are too numerous to mention. Last year the sight of an impala or zebra was enough to titillate; after spotting leopard and hyenas devouring their kill one realizes that man is easily jaded and always looks to the next level for excitement.
We entered the Park at the South end through the Numbi gate and headed for Pretorioskop Bush Camp, our home for a few nights while we toured the south end of Kruger. What a shock to see that much of the terrain in the lower half of the park had been scorched to the earth in the tremendous July fire. Being cut off from the media, we had no inkling of the fire’s extent, burning every tree and blade of grass to char. In some of the most devastated areas, shoots of grass were noted sprouting up in the blackened earth and impalas beginning to graze on the new grass. However it appears that even the seeds in other areas were destroyed in this horrific fire. We found routes that avoided the fire’s fury and enjoyed viewing lions at a waterhole, white rhinos feasting on the grasses, herds of cape buffalo grazing, six rare sable buck eating new shoots of grass and even a leopard sitting on the road during an evening game drive.
Pretorioskop Bush Camp has it own charms as impalas, wart hogs, vervet monkeys enter the camp daily to feast on the grass parklands and entertain the guests. A unique feature of the camp is its bare rock swimming pool which was refreshing on a hot day after game viewing.
Kruger’s Numbi Gate at the south end is a short drive to Blyde River Canyon in the Drakensburg Mountains. Blyde River Canyon is the South African equivalent of the Grand Canyon and certainly its equal in spectacle and magnificence. The canyon starts as a small river gouging out round “potholes” in the rocks with swirling eddies. Twenty miles away the river has cut a canyon miles deep with rounded Rondaval forms, red rock tables and dense vegetation The snaking of the river is visible far below the viewing point. The Panorama drive includes several waterfalls and stops in pleasant tourist towns with old pioneer re-creations and great locally grown coffee and pancakes.
However, the most fun was driving the length of the park, viewing the terrain and watching the game roll out. About two hours from Pretoriokop the parades of elephants began with the females and babies traveling in a train and the bulls solitarily gorging on trees by the road. Viewing game at this close distance brings awe and some anxiety to the viewer. Elephants are known to become angry and attack vehicles when they are disturbed or threatened. Their tusks can easily penetrate the side of a car. The situation seems benign but there is an element of fear. Baboons appeared in tandem with the elephants as the troupes ran along the road with the babies hanging onto the mother’s bellies. They are charming to watch but can also be very dangerous when aroused.
A side trip to a watering hole brought the drama of a lifetime! A flurry of fur and activity were spotted at the edge of the watering hole. Six spotted hyenas were pulling at the carcass of a male kudu with the giant spiral horn jutting boldly into the air. Ten brown vultures lay in wait for their turn at the kill. Every few minutes a vulture would venture closer to the carcass-a hyena would then charge toward the vulture and force them back to wait. The hyenas grew hot as they worked at meat pawing and clawing. They jumped into the watering hole and splashed with glee just like dogs at the beach. Then back to work. Off in the distance a stork waited for its turn to enter the watering hole but was no competition for the hyenas and vultures. One brassy hyena got hold of a Kudu leg and tromped off into the bush with his luscious treat leaving the others to push pull and grab. Then splash down to cool off in the muddy water.
Our destination for exploring the northern half of the park was Mopani Bush Camp, named after the mopane trees that cover the landscape. Accommodations consisted of a self catering thatched rock house with full kitchen, sleeping for 6 and a covered patio. The camp is situated above a dam where game come to drink and hippos lounge in the dirt. The camp is the real mopane bush with an electrified fence around. It felt and smelt like the bush as opposed to the older Pretorioskop in the south with grass parklands inside the game fence.
Game viewing from the car or jeep is fun but the sights, smells and feel of the bush demand that one hit the dirt. The national parks offer day hikes in the bush accompanied by nattily dressed naturalists armed with rifles, just in case. So at 5am we headed off in a jeep with two naturalists and two rifles to experience the bush on foot. We drove a few miles from the bush camp, crossing a river with crocodiles swimming through the water and a hippo clan dozing in the center, looking like rounded rocks. As we got out of the jeep a twinge of fear hit but also a sense that we finally had the opportunity to explore and experience the real bush in a slow way. The guide explained that we would walk single file in silence three hours through the bush and could click our fingers if we wanted any explanation of the flora or fauna. Hiking is my favorite pastime so this sounded like great fun. We set off down a riverbed next to the mopane trees. The landscape was dotted with termite mounds and dung of all sizes, shapes and freshness. Dirt for the termite mound is dug below the ground and combined with termite saliva. Then Amos, the senior naturalist, described the source of the dung (giraffe-small elegant; elephant-profuse, wet and fibrous; impala smaller and used as territorial markings) the significance, and the next customer who will use the fresh dung for food. The guides also tore off leaves from the bush plants to smell; one like cat urine, one sweet, and a wild mint. The guides knew the names and calls of every bird and their peculiar habits. The female lays her eggs and finds a new mate; the male guards the eggs. We walked by impalas who quickly ran away, scared by our scent. Ironically, the game are not intimidated by vehicles and are accustomed to the sound of the engines. Man on foot is another story.
Our guides took us to a small rocky mound where they pointed out a large grey object that looked like a rock in the distance. In fact it was an elephant and they turned toward the mark. We walked for about a quarter mile across the bush silent in our single file trek to the game. We came up on the bull elephant and its bull companion tearing mopane trees with their trunks and stuffing the branches and leaves into their mouths. This certainly was more thrilling and more ominous than viewing from a car. Plus the experience of walking through the bush and coming out of the trees upon these massive creatures eating and living their lives was both exciting and humbling. We watched in silence from 30 meters trying not to anger them or scare them. These were older bulls, massive in size. We headed off on our trek and sat down on some rocks for snacks. Off in the bush we spotted two hyenas darting off to find what they could scavenge for the day. They look and move like very large dogs with long fur and rounded features. We arrived back at the jeep and felt safe again to be protected by man’s inventions but missing the closeness to the earth and its smells and sounds.
After the game hike we tried another drive through the back treks of Mopane, crossing the Tropic of Capricorn line. The drive seemed insulated compared to the hike but when the stalking leopard crossed the road I was glad to be safe in the car. The back roads yielded beautiful birds; ostrich, ground hornbills, yellow hornbills, vultures and hammerkops. The delights of Kruger are too numerous to mention. Last year the sight of an impala or zebra was enough to titillate; after spotting leopard and hyenas devouring their kill one realizes that man is easily jaded and always looks to the next level for excitement.
Monday, October 01, 2007
Saturday, September 29, 2007
Weskus Wonders
The Bond’s hit the road again to celebrate Heritage Day and the annual flower explosion on the West Coast of South Africa. Timing for the flower event is a bit tricky as the best viewing changes from year to year and on cloudy days the flowers fold up. We flew to Cape Town after attending the 10th Anniversary of the Peace Corps in South Africa and the new volunteer’s swearing in ceremony in Pretoria. A great kick-off for the botanical tour of the West Coast was a stop at Kirstenbosch Botanical Gardens in Cape Town, a world heritage site. The garden starts low and extends up the side of Table Mountain with acres of protea, succulents, cycads, fynbos and wildflowers, all in bloom. What is your favorite protea? The tiny red pin cushions, the vibrant orange and yellow or the obscene pale pink King with large beetles consuming its pollen? The panorama of Cape Town unfolds as one strolls up the grand grey mountainside.
We headed for the West Coast with no plans or itinerary. However the stay provided a rich assortment of sights and entertainment. The West Coast of South Africa is scenic, unspoiled and lovely. It reminded me so much of the Central coast of California with huge stretches of sand dunes, wildflowers, wild bluffs, breakers and little development. I felt at home and at peace in our small cottage by the sea in the fishing village of Paternoster, named after the prayer said by all fishermen as they go to sea. Paternoster is a 2 hour drive north west from Cape Town along the coast, going through wetlands, very small villages and unspoiled beaches. Paternoster is composed of whitewashed cement houses with tin roofs that look directly out unto the bay and sand dunes. The beach is covered with white and black clam shells that break down into fine sand. Hot pink wildflowers with black centers provide gaudy decorations for the scrub growing in the dunes. The beautiful beach is perfect for long walks to look for right whales, and enjoy the surf and the interesting white rock formations in the bay. After being confused for a year by the sunsets on the east coast of Africa, the sun set over the ocean providing beautiful sunsets and a sense of familiarity for a homesick So Cal Gal.
Paternoster was a great base for exploring the Weskus (West Coast). The first day was spent seeing the miles and miles of wildflowers and beach at the West Coast National Park. Yellows, purples, pinks, whites and oranges in beautiful tapestries silhouetting the rolling hillsides and beach. The northwest corner of the park known as the Postberg is open only during flower season. The fields of flowers are accented by the huge breakers crashing against the rocks in this rugged area.
Sunday we stumbled on the Cultivara Festival in Paarl. This is a three day festival of the arts combined with a food and wine festival. (a great play on this wine production area and the arts). We missed the Messiah by University of Stellenbosch but were able to get tickets to see the Two Blondes, Beethoven to Abba. The two fair haired damsels played classical and popular hits on two matching grand pianos with a running commentary in Afrikaans. Great listening and great music! We headed over to the Food and Wine tent after the piano concert for some live jazz, west coast wine tasting, chicken curry and strawberries with wonderful thick cream that has no rival in the US. The whole town of Paarl is used as a venue for the festival; the piano concert was held in the auditorium of the police academy. Paarl is named for the rounded granite peaks that surround the city that in certain light look like pearls.
Heritage Day (Sept. 24) produced surprise entertainment in Darling (wildflower central) and a confirmation that one person can change the world for the better, albeit in a quirky way. Pieter-Dirk Uys holds stage in the Darling train station (Afrikaans Perron) as Evita se Perron with satire that helped bring down Aparthied. He has daily shows with his monologue about world politics and injustice, always peppered with plenty of humor. He is dressed in full formal drag and is convincing as the saucy aunt that tells it like it is. Some of his best quotes “Apartheid is the pigment of the imagination”, “Hypocrisy is the Vaseline of political intercourse” , “The Future is Certain, the Past is Unpredictable.”
The Cederburg Mountains loom and beckon to the north of Paternoster so our last day was spent driving to the Cederburg for a rugged drive through the peaks and a hike to view the San cave paintings. The dirt road traversed wild geologic formations to a high plain where the caves were found. The four km trail leads to 10 cave sites with painting of mythical people and animals. Amazingly they resembled the cave painting we viewed in the Drakensburg Mountains 1000 km distant. The viewing is like a treasure hunt- the stone walls are intimately examined until the forms take their shape. Many of the paintings have several figures superimposed on each other. Dates are between 200 and 3000 years old. The San people were killed with just a few survivors remaining and very little known about the ancient culture or the significance of the man-beast forms. However, it is great fun to explore the caves and hunt for the treasure.
This trip had no preplanned itinerary or must-do requirements. It may be that the Peace Corps experience has taught that serendipity can be the most rewarding experience in life. The flowers may have been a little late for best viewing but we had a ball! We look forward to a trip next week to Kruger National Park with our son Erik for game spotting. Keep you posted!
We headed for the West Coast with no plans or itinerary. However the stay provided a rich assortment of sights and entertainment. The West Coast of South Africa is scenic, unspoiled and lovely. It reminded me so much of the Central coast of California with huge stretches of sand dunes, wildflowers, wild bluffs, breakers and little development. I felt at home and at peace in our small cottage by the sea in the fishing village of Paternoster, named after the prayer said by all fishermen as they go to sea. Paternoster is a 2 hour drive north west from Cape Town along the coast, going through wetlands, very small villages and unspoiled beaches. Paternoster is composed of whitewashed cement houses with tin roofs that look directly out unto the bay and sand dunes. The beach is covered with white and black clam shells that break down into fine sand. Hot pink wildflowers with black centers provide gaudy decorations for the scrub growing in the dunes. The beautiful beach is perfect for long walks to look for right whales, and enjoy the surf and the interesting white rock formations in the bay. After being confused for a year by the sunsets on the east coast of Africa, the sun set over the ocean providing beautiful sunsets and a sense of familiarity for a homesick So Cal Gal.
Paternoster was a great base for exploring the Weskus (West Coast). The first day was spent seeing the miles and miles of wildflowers and beach at the West Coast National Park. Yellows, purples, pinks, whites and oranges in beautiful tapestries silhouetting the rolling hillsides and beach. The northwest corner of the park known as the Postberg is open only during flower season. The fields of flowers are accented by the huge breakers crashing against the rocks in this rugged area.
Sunday we stumbled on the Cultivara Festival in Paarl. This is a three day festival of the arts combined with a food and wine festival. (a great play on this wine production area and the arts). We missed the Messiah by University of Stellenbosch but were able to get tickets to see the Two Blondes, Beethoven to Abba. The two fair haired damsels played classical and popular hits on two matching grand pianos with a running commentary in Afrikaans. Great listening and great music! We headed over to the Food and Wine tent after the piano concert for some live jazz, west coast wine tasting, chicken curry and strawberries with wonderful thick cream that has no rival in the US. The whole town of Paarl is used as a venue for the festival; the piano concert was held in the auditorium of the police academy. Paarl is named for the rounded granite peaks that surround the city that in certain light look like pearls.
Heritage Day (Sept. 24) produced surprise entertainment in Darling (wildflower central) and a confirmation that one person can change the world for the better, albeit in a quirky way. Pieter-Dirk Uys holds stage in the Darling train station (Afrikaans Perron) as Evita se Perron with satire that helped bring down Aparthied. He has daily shows with his monologue about world politics and injustice, always peppered with plenty of humor. He is dressed in full formal drag and is convincing as the saucy aunt that tells it like it is. Some of his best quotes “Apartheid is the pigment of the imagination”, “Hypocrisy is the Vaseline of political intercourse” , “The Future is Certain, the Past is Unpredictable.”
The Cederburg Mountains loom and beckon to the north of Paternoster so our last day was spent driving to the Cederburg for a rugged drive through the peaks and a hike to view the San cave paintings. The dirt road traversed wild geologic formations to a high plain where the caves were found. The four km trail leads to 10 cave sites with painting of mythical people and animals. Amazingly they resembled the cave painting we viewed in the Drakensburg Mountains 1000 km distant. The viewing is like a treasure hunt- the stone walls are intimately examined until the forms take their shape. Many of the paintings have several figures superimposed on each other. Dates are between 200 and 3000 years old. The San people were killed with just a few survivors remaining and very little known about the ancient culture or the significance of the man-beast forms. However, it is great fun to explore the caves and hunt for the treasure.
This trip had no preplanned itinerary or must-do requirements. It may be that the Peace Corps experience has taught that serendipity can be the most rewarding experience in life. The flowers may have been a little late for best viewing but we had a ball! We look forward to a trip next week to Kruger National Park with our son Erik for game spotting. Keep you posted!
Sunday, September 16, 2007
Transport Blues and Bodies
One might think it is depressing living and working in a hospital for AIDS. Actually one hears very little whining and a lot of laughter. And some of the incidences involving death are outrageously funny. So I apologize for the following stories from our lives. They are not meant to disrespect the dead, only to pass on the absurdity of life and death here in KwaZuluNatal.
The Zulu culture places great emphasis on respect for the death and burial rituals. Cremation does not seem to exist in our area; the dead are given decent funerals (which are very costly to the families), buried, mourned with families wearing black for a month and a stone laid on the grave in a formal ceremony. The AIDS epidemic has created a huge industry for dealing with the dead. Tombstone stores crop up in minimalls next to bakeries. Companies that deal in cement and construction supplies open up side businesses to manufacture the gravestones. Zulus that spend their lives riding in crowded 16 passenger taxis (often loaded with 19) finally are treated to a ride in a white Mercedes hearse for the final trip to their resting place if the family can afford the cost. If not they hire a driver and pickup truck with a small coffin sized trailer to transport their loved one to the burial ground.
Transport issues oversee the length of one’s life here in Zululand. From birth to death transport is always a problem. Critically ill patients are transferred from Mountain High Hospital to a better equipped public hospital in Vryheid when they need critical care. Some of the patients die down in the upgraded hospital. Thus the families have the problem of how to get the body back to this isolated rural mountain site when they have no car and limited financial means.
Three months ago a local family arranged to have a small pickup truck (with coffin trailer) bring back their dead relative to the valley 1000ft below Mountain High Hospital The dirt road from the paved road to the Hospital is tricky to navigate and bare rock in one area but the next section that goes from the Hospital over the mountain and down to the valley is tortuous in its steep slippery grade, rough rocks and potholes. The truck and small coffin sized trailer picked up the corpse in town and had no problem transversing the road to the hospital. However, the wheel got stuck in one of the potholes and it could not go down the mountain. The driver and helper tried to dig the truck free and in doing so the trailer came loose and flew down the mountain, hitting the driver, who was seriously injured and was the second casualty in that brigade. Irony was that he brought to Mountain High for first aid and then had to be transported down to the hospital in Vryheid for his injuries.
On Friday, I inquired whether a driver was going to town - the night duty nurses were urgently asking for flashlights (power was out on Thurs. night with no relief in sight). Toner for the printer had run out and the payroll needed to be printed. The driver was noncommittal in his answer as to whether he was in fact headed to town. He asked me to follow him to the hospital pickup truck and take a look. I headed over to the loading area by the gate and immediately understood his dilemma. A white coffin was parked at a 45 degree angle sticking up 2 feet over the tailgate in the back of the pickup. It was too long to fit into the bed of the truck. The driver stated that he had orders to go to Vryheid to pick up a corpse and return it back to our site. B The driver was agitated and did not want to buy flashlights or toner with the corpse tilted in the back of the truck. A suggestion that he run the business errands first and then pick up the body was not well received. A quick search was made of the laundry room and stores to find a plastic tarp to cover the white coffin, whose identity was plain and clear to any passersby. The driver was concerned that he might hit a bump and lose his cargo. Plenty of rope and a few words of encouragement were uttered for his task.
In many ways life here is very similar to life in the 1950’s when not everyone had a car and you were dependent on your neighbors and friends to help with transportation, shortages and family crises. Although local residents squabble among themselves they are quick to forgive and forget as tomorrow they will need each other for urgent needs.
The Zulu culture places great emphasis on respect for the death and burial rituals. Cremation does not seem to exist in our area; the dead are given decent funerals (which are very costly to the families), buried, mourned with families wearing black for a month and a stone laid on the grave in a formal ceremony. The AIDS epidemic has created a huge industry for dealing with the dead. Tombstone stores crop up in minimalls next to bakeries. Companies that deal in cement and construction supplies open up side businesses to manufacture the gravestones. Zulus that spend their lives riding in crowded 16 passenger taxis (often loaded with 19) finally are treated to a ride in a white Mercedes hearse for the final trip to their resting place if the family can afford the cost. If not they hire a driver and pickup truck with a small coffin sized trailer to transport their loved one to the burial ground.
Transport issues oversee the length of one’s life here in Zululand. From birth to death transport is always a problem. Critically ill patients are transferred from Mountain High Hospital to a better equipped public hospital in Vryheid when they need critical care. Some of the patients die down in the upgraded hospital. Thus the families have the problem of how to get the body back to this isolated rural mountain site when they have no car and limited financial means.
Three months ago a local family arranged to have a small pickup truck (with coffin trailer) bring back their dead relative to the valley 1000ft below Mountain High Hospital The dirt road from the paved road to the Hospital is tricky to navigate and bare rock in one area but the next section that goes from the Hospital over the mountain and down to the valley is tortuous in its steep slippery grade, rough rocks and potholes. The truck and small coffin sized trailer picked up the corpse in town and had no problem transversing the road to the hospital. However, the wheel got stuck in one of the potholes and it could not go down the mountain. The driver and helper tried to dig the truck free and in doing so the trailer came loose and flew down the mountain, hitting the driver, who was seriously injured and was the second casualty in that brigade. Irony was that he brought to Mountain High for first aid and then had to be transported down to the hospital in Vryheid for his injuries.
On Friday, I inquired whether a driver was going to town - the night duty nurses were urgently asking for flashlights (power was out on Thurs. night with no relief in sight). Toner for the printer had run out and the payroll needed to be printed. The driver was noncommittal in his answer as to whether he was in fact headed to town. He asked me to follow him to the hospital pickup truck and take a look. I headed over to the loading area by the gate and immediately understood his dilemma. A white coffin was parked at a 45 degree angle sticking up 2 feet over the tailgate in the back of the pickup. It was too long to fit into the bed of the truck. The driver stated that he had orders to go to Vryheid to pick up a corpse and return it back to our site. B The driver was agitated and did not want to buy flashlights or toner with the corpse tilted in the back of the truck. A suggestion that he run the business errands first and then pick up the body was not well received. A quick search was made of the laundry room and stores to find a plastic tarp to cover the white coffin, whose identity was plain and clear to any passersby. The driver was concerned that he might hit a bump and lose his cargo. Plenty of rope and a few words of encouragement were uttered for his task.
In many ways life here is very similar to life in the 1950’s when not everyone had a car and you were dependent on your neighbors and friends to help with transportation, shortages and family crises. Although local residents squabble among themselves they are quick to forgive and forget as tomorrow they will need each other for urgent needs.
Sunday, September 09, 2007
Reed Dance
This weekend was the climax of Zulu cultural life in the 21st century with the Zulu King Goodwill holding the annual Reed Dance for Zulu Maidens in Southern Africa. This event has been going on for 23 years at his Kraal (ranch) close to Mountain High Hospital. Originally only 25-30 young girls danced with a bamboo pole in front of the king, showing their grace and beauty. He could select any of the maidens to be queens and they were locked into royalty for life. The King currently has 5 or 6 wives and does not seem to be actively interested in acquiring more, but one never knows. On Friday at work I teased my colleagues that if I did not show up on Monday, look for me at the Palace; maybe I got lucky!
What a surprise when we arrived at the Palace grounds and saw thousands of beautiful young girls milling around waiting for the events to begin. (Don’t worry Mountain High, I will be back at work on Monday morning-too much gorgeous competition from the young). They arrived by bus, taxi, private car and on foot from all over Southern Africa. (The King of Swaziland holds a similar event and now has 200 wives). Each girl makes her own costume out of beads, feathers, skins, Zulu fabric with the King’s face or whatever she and her friends cook up. Of course the costume does not require much material as it is bottoms only with a few beaded ornaments for the upper half. The girls are housed in huge tents for the two day event which had the atmosphere of the Rose Parade, beauty pageant, and revival meeting combined.
To see 5000 young girls begin marching in unison with their reeds held high singing a song of affirmation was truly a lifetime event. They danced in rows of 20 across waving their reeds as they became one entity that announced “We are Zulus and we are proud of our beautiful culture.” The parade continued for 2 hours as they swayed up the road to the palace and laid their reed at the king’s feet. They then danced down to the stadium where they danced again for the waiting crowd. Besides their bare chests they wore no shoes- the day was warm but their singing and swaying did not hesitate. At last all of the girls had finished their moment with the King and the program started.
The minister preached, the politicians spoke; the educators ranted and then King Goodwill took the podium. The speeches were empowerment messages for the girls. Stay AIDS FREE for life! Abstinence is Cool-Its Ok to Wait! So instead of this amazing gathering being a bacchanalian tribute to polygamy and the King’s powers, it has become a means of asserting and affirming the young girls. Every girl was viewed as a Zulu princess, possessing the intellect and self-esteem to become a respected member of the Zulu society. The speeches probably grew long for the girls and many were there for the fun of the day and the traditional dressing, but the collective power of so many sisters making a stand to develop their potential and stay AIDS free must make a big impact.
The logistics for the event were remarkable. The Kings Kraal is 20 miles from any town so transport had to be arranged for the girls, the families of the girls, the matrons that looked after and coached the girls on the dance and behavior required. As we sat waiting for the program to start, trucks arrived with 7 brown velvet wing chairs and 10 carved seats for the royal family. King Goodwill arrived attired in leopard skin and feathers as were the males in his entourage. He was educated at Oxford but speaks in simple Zulu with the message that the Zulu nation should be celebrated and that AIDS must be eliminated. After the speeches the girls danced again. A poignant moment was the dance by three of the King’s current wives in their elegant white brocade attire.
I was thrilled to be a witness to such an exciting, beautiful day. I was also encouraged as an individual actively involved in dealing with AIDS patients that the Zulu King has seized a cultural event to get the AIDS message out and put it into the hearts of these very young girls. His message was that each young girl should have a plan to stay AIDS FREE for life. The South African government provides financial support for the Zulu King but they are getting a great spokesman for the AIDS health messages as well as a classy statesman who sure knows how to put on a party! Sad that there were so few tourists in attendance as it was a unique view into this special place and the commitment that community leaders are making to combat AIDS in South Africa.
What a surprise when we arrived at the Palace grounds and saw thousands of beautiful young girls milling around waiting for the events to begin. (Don’t worry Mountain High, I will be back at work on Monday morning-too much gorgeous competition from the young). They arrived by bus, taxi, private car and on foot from all over Southern Africa. (The King of Swaziland holds a similar event and now has 200 wives). Each girl makes her own costume out of beads, feathers, skins, Zulu fabric with the King’s face or whatever she and her friends cook up. Of course the costume does not require much material as it is bottoms only with a few beaded ornaments for the upper half. The girls are housed in huge tents for the two day event which had the atmosphere of the Rose Parade, beauty pageant, and revival meeting combined.
To see 5000 young girls begin marching in unison with their reeds held high singing a song of affirmation was truly a lifetime event. They danced in rows of 20 across waving their reeds as they became one entity that announced “We are Zulus and we are proud of our beautiful culture.” The parade continued for 2 hours as they swayed up the road to the palace and laid their reed at the king’s feet. They then danced down to the stadium where they danced again for the waiting crowd. Besides their bare chests they wore no shoes- the day was warm but their singing and swaying did not hesitate. At last all of the girls had finished their moment with the King and the program started.
The minister preached, the politicians spoke; the educators ranted and then King Goodwill took the podium. The speeches were empowerment messages for the girls. Stay AIDS FREE for life! Abstinence is Cool-Its Ok to Wait! So instead of this amazing gathering being a bacchanalian tribute to polygamy and the King’s powers, it has become a means of asserting and affirming the young girls. Every girl was viewed as a Zulu princess, possessing the intellect and self-esteem to become a respected member of the Zulu society. The speeches probably grew long for the girls and many were there for the fun of the day and the traditional dressing, but the collective power of so many sisters making a stand to develop their potential and stay AIDS free must make a big impact.
The logistics for the event were remarkable. The Kings Kraal is 20 miles from any town so transport had to be arranged for the girls, the families of the girls, the matrons that looked after and coached the girls on the dance and behavior required. As we sat waiting for the program to start, trucks arrived with 7 brown velvet wing chairs and 10 carved seats for the royal family. King Goodwill arrived attired in leopard skin and feathers as were the males in his entourage. He was educated at Oxford but speaks in simple Zulu with the message that the Zulu nation should be celebrated and that AIDS must be eliminated. After the speeches the girls danced again. A poignant moment was the dance by three of the King’s current wives in their elegant white brocade attire.
I was thrilled to be a witness to such an exciting, beautiful day. I was also encouraged as an individual actively involved in dealing with AIDS patients that the Zulu King has seized a cultural event to get the AIDS message out and put it into the hearts of these very young girls. His message was that each young girl should have a plan to stay AIDS FREE for life. The South African government provides financial support for the Zulu King but they are getting a great spokesman for the AIDS health messages as well as a classy statesman who sure knows how to put on a party! Sad that there were so few tourists in attendance as it was a unique view into this special place and the commitment that community leaders are making to combat AIDS in South Africa.
Sunday, September 02, 2007
The Call
This week was an affirmation of our Peace Corps Service but also a lesson in our limitations and weaknesses. Last weekend as stocks of fabrics grew thin for the occupational therapy program for patients at an AIDS hospital, I purchased many new fabrics in our shopping town. Monday is the sewing day for the Jabule group (occupational therapy) where the fabrics are chosen by the luck of the draw, patterns assembled and the fabrics cut to meet the requests of the patients. (hat, scarf, long or short skirt, t-shirt, pegs bag, cushion). The men meet from 9:30am to 10:30; the women then arrive till around 12:15 when lunch is served. I display the fabrics on the benches in the chapel, help them lay out the patterns on the fabrics and cut them on the floor to meet the customer’s request.
On Monday the men did not arrive at 9:30 am as they were late in receiving their medications. By 10 am they started to trickle in and took their time looking at the available handcraft project possibilities. Around 10:15am the women gathered at the windows of the chapel to see what the Jabule experience had to offer for Sewing Monday. (I had earlier told them that the Women’s group would start at 10:30am.) Promptly at 10:30 ten women entered the Chapel and in agitated, aggressive voices wanted to start their program and extricate the men. Fortunately, the Zulu volunteer assistant for the program was able to tell them to come back in 10 minutes when the men’s' requests for projects were fulfilled.
Ten minutes later the women showed up again at the door, this time greatly agitated and chanting in Zulu. I could not understand the words but clearly got the sentiment. One woman finally yelled in English “Women First!” I was floored by this rancorous response to the handcrafts project as each day and each week every person’ s request for craft supplies was handled by a picking a number and attention to their request. The women were slotted in the 10:30 hour because they receive their drugs at 9:30am and are not available until midmorning. I asked them for “Uxolo” (Peace) as this is the only Zulu word I know for harmony. Then I quickly asked the Zulu volunteer to tell them that peace must resume or we would close up for the day. He muttered something to the women and the handcrafts program finally began.
This was a cultural misunderstanding that I do not fully understand. Were the women truly agitated or were they just teasing me because the week before I suggested during the pizza cooking session that the women be served first. They women in Africa bear a tremendous burden as you often see them with the baby wrapped in a towel on their back and water or wood on their heads. They are generally submissive to demands from men which may be part of the gender issues causing the AIDS epidemic. I asked the male volunteer assistant why the women were agitated and he answered “Angawz” (I don’t know).
So with this rocky start for the week I thought about my place and purpose in South Africa. I began to understand the patient’s impatience to start the Jabule program and their promised handcrafts and sewing projects. What if an American was sent to an isolated rural hospital with limited recreation opportunities? Or were the female patients just having a good joke?
This brought to mind the reason why we are here in South Africa. Our service has many ups and downs but even in the deepest downs there is a conviction that we are needed here. Last weekend I received a request to explain the “Call of God” from some boys in my church in Palos Verdes. The following summarizes my experience with the “Call”:
In the early 60’s President John F. Kennedy started the Peace Corps with the caveat, “Ask not what your country can do for you, but what you can do for your country”. As a little girl I was interested in the Peace Corps as the media was full of information about this new government program. I was not able to join until I finished college, worked for the Calif. Health Dept, raised two sons and retired but I kept Peace Corps Service in the back of my mind as a future possibility and followed the progress of the organization.
God’s call has come to me throughout my life as a whisper in my ear and a steady voice that says “You should do this” whenever an opportunity for service has come along. The call has a persistence coupled with open doors that enable the service to happen.
My interest in international mission service was piqued by hearing stories from missionaries as a young girl, the opportunity to travel, love of adventure, and the mission program at St. Peters by the Sea Presbyterian Church. When retirement came early, I sought a way of using the free time and my skills to help others. Christian service is the opportunity to use the creativity and imagination that one possesses for blessing and pleasure to give meaning to life.
The process of applying and being accepted to the Peace Corps was a challenge that took two years. Some of their requirements were medical, dental, financial and legal clearances as well as interviews and recommendations. At one point an obstacle was their requirement that my wisdom teeth be removed and an oral surgeon refusing to take them out due to risk. Other difficulties were getting rid or storing all of our belongings including our vehicles, renting our house, finding a place for our son to live, and arranging for management of our finances. We also had to say goodbye to our family, friends and neighbors for two years. However, the tasks were not too onerous and God provided steady wisdom, guidance and peace of mind through the process by that quiet voice.
The doubts we had about joining the Peace Corps or completing the service are better defined as concerns that we are up to the task, we can stay healthy and we can help South Africa. When the water or electricity does not work or we have no transportation it is easy to think of America and the comfortable life in Palos Verdes. However, God has given us a sense that we are in the right place and doing meaningful work. We trust him every day to give us the courage and strength to fulfill that day’s service and a positive spirit of love for the Zulu people.
On Monday the men did not arrive at 9:30 am as they were late in receiving their medications. By 10 am they started to trickle in and took their time looking at the available handcraft project possibilities. Around 10:15am the women gathered at the windows of the chapel to see what the Jabule experience had to offer for Sewing Monday. (I had earlier told them that the Women’s group would start at 10:30am.) Promptly at 10:30 ten women entered the Chapel and in agitated, aggressive voices wanted to start their program and extricate the men. Fortunately, the Zulu volunteer assistant for the program was able to tell them to come back in 10 minutes when the men’s' requests for projects were fulfilled.
Ten minutes later the women showed up again at the door, this time greatly agitated and chanting in Zulu. I could not understand the words but clearly got the sentiment. One woman finally yelled in English “Women First!” I was floored by this rancorous response to the handcrafts project as each day and each week every person’ s request for craft supplies was handled by a picking a number and attention to their request. The women were slotted in the 10:30 hour because they receive their drugs at 9:30am and are not available until midmorning. I asked them for “Uxolo” (Peace) as this is the only Zulu word I know for harmony. Then I quickly asked the Zulu volunteer to tell them that peace must resume or we would close up for the day. He muttered something to the women and the handcrafts program finally began.
This was a cultural misunderstanding that I do not fully understand. Were the women truly agitated or were they just teasing me because the week before I suggested during the pizza cooking session that the women be served first. They women in Africa bear a tremendous burden as you often see them with the baby wrapped in a towel on their back and water or wood on their heads. They are generally submissive to demands from men which may be part of the gender issues causing the AIDS epidemic. I asked the male volunteer assistant why the women were agitated and he answered “Angawz” (I don’t know).
So with this rocky start for the week I thought about my place and purpose in South Africa. I began to understand the patient’s impatience to start the Jabule program and their promised handcrafts and sewing projects. What if an American was sent to an isolated rural hospital with limited recreation opportunities? Or were the female patients just having a good joke?
This brought to mind the reason why we are here in South Africa. Our service has many ups and downs but even in the deepest downs there is a conviction that we are needed here. Last weekend I received a request to explain the “Call of God” from some boys in my church in Palos Verdes. The following summarizes my experience with the “Call”:
In the early 60’s President John F. Kennedy started the Peace Corps with the caveat, “Ask not what your country can do for you, but what you can do for your country”. As a little girl I was interested in the Peace Corps as the media was full of information about this new government program. I was not able to join until I finished college, worked for the Calif. Health Dept, raised two sons and retired but I kept Peace Corps Service in the back of my mind as a future possibility and followed the progress of the organization.
God’s call has come to me throughout my life as a whisper in my ear and a steady voice that says “You should do this” whenever an opportunity for service has come along. The call has a persistence coupled with open doors that enable the service to happen.
My interest in international mission service was piqued by hearing stories from missionaries as a young girl, the opportunity to travel, love of adventure, and the mission program at St. Peters by the Sea Presbyterian Church. When retirement came early, I sought a way of using the free time and my skills to help others. Christian service is the opportunity to use the creativity and imagination that one possesses for blessing and pleasure to give meaning to life.
The process of applying and being accepted to the Peace Corps was a challenge that took two years. Some of their requirements were medical, dental, financial and legal clearances as well as interviews and recommendations. At one point an obstacle was their requirement that my wisdom teeth be removed and an oral surgeon refusing to take them out due to risk. Other difficulties were getting rid or storing all of our belongings including our vehicles, renting our house, finding a place for our son to live, and arranging for management of our finances. We also had to say goodbye to our family, friends and neighbors for two years. However, the tasks were not too onerous and God provided steady wisdom, guidance and peace of mind through the process by that quiet voice.
The doubts we had about joining the Peace Corps or completing the service are better defined as concerns that we are up to the task, we can stay healthy and we can help South Africa. When the water or electricity does not work or we have no transportation it is easy to think of America and the comfortable life in Palos Verdes. However, God has given us a sense that we are in the right place and doing meaningful work. We trust him every day to give us the courage and strength to fulfill that day’s service and a positive spirit of love for the Zulu people.
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