Monday, July 14, 2008
California Summer
Summer at the Beach in LA seems like a Paradise! The day starts slightly overcast in the morning with the fog burning off and languishing into the mid 70’s. The lovely sweet days last until past 8pm with plenty of time for returned Peace Corps volunteers to take long walks on the beach or in the canyons on the Palos Verdes Peninsula. The birds seem abundant and more defined in our focus after two years in a bird lover’s haven, South Africa. Formations of brown pelicans swoop along the bluff looking for a fat savory fish. LBJs (little brown jobs) and lovely cream chested songbirds make our backyard their home.
Green may be the buzzword for vehicles but green is not loved in Rancho Palos Verdes. During the past two years the trees and shrubs in our yards have overgrown. All is not perfect in this paradise as a lien on our home was threatened by the City Attorney’s office due to three trees obstructing a neighbor’ s view. Due to irregular mail service and poor forwarding to South Africa we were not notified of the pending legal troubles until March 2008, with the final deadline for trimming Jan. 2008. The packet of mail included notices starting in July 2007 with photographs showing the offending foliage. Unfortunately the photo was reversed, making the identification of the violative trees difficult. A late night call to the City Attorney asking for a delay in the tree trimming until July when we would be home was rejected; he stated that the trees must be cut within 10 days. A plea for mercy based on our inability to manage the tree trimming and our remote location as Peace Corps volunteers working with TB/HIV patients went unheeded and we were forced to scramble around to get the trees trimmed in the 10 days allotted. (Ironically, a few weeks before we joined the Peace Corps the complaining neighbor visited our home and we agreed to trim the offending trees if they would pay the cost but they declined and instead filed a claim. Such is life in Southern California!) From this end, life at the Salvation Army TB/AIDS Hospital was much simpler in spite of the hardships and deprivations.
We are enjoying the ease of living in America (in spite of our tree woes).. If we need something we just get in the car and drive to the store-no two hour trip in a taxi with a 4 km hike down the dirt road. Hot water is plentiful as is electricity. Television is a pleasure for image starved PC volunteers who have not had TV for 2 years. Plus there is a plethora of programs, movies, political commentary, cooking shows, talk shows, etc. Cooking is a breeze with counter space, equipment, gas burners, ovens, a real kitchen and all the ingredients. Friends and family are readily available for a few laughs and support as we recreate our life in America. The process has not been cheap as we have had to purchase cell phones, a washer, garage door opener, a bed, a computer, and equip our kitchen from scratch plus pay for our furniture to be moved into our home from storage. Thanks to our sisters and son who returned our cars in better condition than when we left! We are missing our Zulu friends and feel their pain as they face the cruelty of AIDS and its impact on a daily basis. Life truly is unfair - it is so easy in America to forget the world’s suffering and the orphans left behind.
Green may be the buzzword for vehicles but green is not loved in Rancho Palos Verdes. During the past two years the trees and shrubs in our yards have overgrown. All is not perfect in this paradise as a lien on our home was threatened by the City Attorney’s office due to three trees obstructing a neighbor’ s view. Due to irregular mail service and poor forwarding to South Africa we were not notified of the pending legal troubles until March 2008, with the final deadline for trimming Jan. 2008. The packet of mail included notices starting in July 2007 with photographs showing the offending foliage. Unfortunately the photo was reversed, making the identification of the violative trees difficult. A late night call to the City Attorney asking for a delay in the tree trimming until July when we would be home was rejected; he stated that the trees must be cut within 10 days. A plea for mercy based on our inability to manage the tree trimming and our remote location as Peace Corps volunteers working with TB/HIV patients went unheeded and we were forced to scramble around to get the trees trimmed in the 10 days allotted. (Ironically, a few weeks before we joined the Peace Corps the complaining neighbor visited our home and we agreed to trim the offending trees if they would pay the cost but they declined and instead filed a claim. Such is life in Southern California!) From this end, life at the Salvation Army TB/AIDS Hospital was much simpler in spite of the hardships and deprivations.
We are enjoying the ease of living in America (in spite of our tree woes).. If we need something we just get in the car and drive to the store-no two hour trip in a taxi with a 4 km hike down the dirt road. Hot water is plentiful as is electricity. Television is a pleasure for image starved PC volunteers who have not had TV for 2 years. Plus there is a plethora of programs, movies, political commentary, cooking shows, talk shows, etc. Cooking is a breeze with counter space, equipment, gas burners, ovens, a real kitchen and all the ingredients. Friends and family are readily available for a few laughs and support as we recreate our life in America. The process has not been cheap as we have had to purchase cell phones, a washer, garage door opener, a bed, a computer, and equip our kitchen from scratch plus pay for our furniture to be moved into our home from storage. Thanks to our sisters and son who returned our cars in better condition than when we left! We are missing our Zulu friends and feel their pain as they face the cruelty of AIDS and its impact on a daily basis. Life truly is unfair - it is so easy in America to forget the world’s suffering and the orphans left behind.
Saturday, July 05, 2008
Home At Last-Happy Birthday America!
God Bless America! God Bless South Africa!
Happy Fourth of July!
The Bond’s arrived safely in America on Sunday and spent the week getting their lives (and house) in order. The last B and B in Pretoria was a repeat of the LAX hotel in July 2006-What to leave behind as four suitcases and 2 carryon’s could not hold all of our Zulu treasures and more mundane belongings. There is a level of stress associated with decision making about possessions-far beyond their monetary value or sentimental value. What makes us cling to tired, worn out shoes or T-shirts? Discard, leave for maids, or cajole that splitting suitcase into holding one more useless item? Taking belongings is the easiest option as one does not have that angst that it may be needed or has some special priceless value, but there is a physical and psychological price to pay when one is overloaded on international flights.
We were thrilled last Saturday as the Peace Corps driver picked us up to take us to Tambo International (formerly Johannesburg International) for the last ride in South Africa. The two weeks of medical exams and close of service conference were a blur as our heads were halfway home and our thoughts centered on the mechanics of returning to our former lives in Palos Verdes, California, a Southern California beach town. Presentations at the conference dealt with grad school applications, State Department jobs, culture shock in America, and completion of the many Peace Corps reports that are part of the continuum of being in a government organization. Opportunities to join the Peace Corps Crisis Corps (Peace Corps Response) were described for Returned Peace Corps Volunteers to serve in critical areas of the world for short time frames. The last two days in South Africa were spent doing final reports, communicating with property managers, shopping for computers, a bed and spices on the Internet. Our house was being readied and we looked forward to moving right in as soon as we hit US soil. We have slept in hundreds of strange beds in the last two years and the idea of sleeping in our home struck some deep nerve and longing for comfort.
Our return to America was very emotional and enjoyable. Our sisters and son met us at the airport with Welcome Home Banners driving our old car, which looked pretty good to PC volunteers that have been riding public transport for two years. I did not realize how much stress it is to live in another culture in a fishbowl until we returned and could just be ourselves. The week was very busy with the insurance companies, IRS (good news we do not owe anything, the penalty for filing late does not apply if you are out of the US), unpacking, arranging repairs to the house, purchasing a washer, dining with friends, enjoying American television, and adjusting to the time change. We are feeling very relaxed and happy to be home. The emotions were unimaginable as we pushed our luggage up the ramp from customs and saw our family waiting for us.
All is not perfect in America but it is pretty darn good! We arrived on Sunday to a house without hot water but one call to the gas company produced a repairman within hours to turn on the pilot light for the hot water heater. It was ironic after spending two years with an undependable water supply, not to mention hot water. The movers arrived Monday morning with our furniture and only a few items were broken or missing.
I requested that our house be repainted exactly as we left it with a Lavender Ice living room, Ivory Charm bedroom and the furniture moved into their old spots. Is this an effort to walk directly into our old lives or are we too disoriented to make changes at this time? After living in one room for two years, our home seems huge but not uncomfortable. Today we enjoyed cooking on a real stove a traditional Fourth of July meal and seeing old friends who may not understand what our experience has been the last two years but know who we are and how we fit into America. Will the honeymoon last? Will we miss the adventure and fun that were constant the last two years (as well as the dangers, annoyances and deprivations)? My feeling is that America can also be an adventure and service opportunities abound. The trick is not to get complacent but to seek new challenges and volunteer opportunities that will continue the Peace Corps experience of helping others and learning about their lives.
Happy Fourth of July!
The Bond’s arrived safely in America on Sunday and spent the week getting their lives (and house) in order. The last B and B in Pretoria was a repeat of the LAX hotel in July 2006-What to leave behind as four suitcases and 2 carryon’s could not hold all of our Zulu treasures and more mundane belongings. There is a level of stress associated with decision making about possessions-far beyond their monetary value or sentimental value. What makes us cling to tired, worn out shoes or T-shirts? Discard, leave for maids, or cajole that splitting suitcase into holding one more useless item? Taking belongings is the easiest option as one does not have that angst that it may be needed or has some special priceless value, but there is a physical and psychological price to pay when one is overloaded on international flights.
We were thrilled last Saturday as the Peace Corps driver picked us up to take us to Tambo International (formerly Johannesburg International) for the last ride in South Africa. The two weeks of medical exams and close of service conference were a blur as our heads were halfway home and our thoughts centered on the mechanics of returning to our former lives in Palos Verdes, California, a Southern California beach town. Presentations at the conference dealt with grad school applications, State Department jobs, culture shock in America, and completion of the many Peace Corps reports that are part of the continuum of being in a government organization. Opportunities to join the Peace Corps Crisis Corps (Peace Corps Response) were described for Returned Peace Corps Volunteers to serve in critical areas of the world for short time frames. The last two days in South Africa were spent doing final reports, communicating with property managers, shopping for computers, a bed and spices on the Internet. Our house was being readied and we looked forward to moving right in as soon as we hit US soil. We have slept in hundreds of strange beds in the last two years and the idea of sleeping in our home struck some deep nerve and longing for comfort.
Our return to America was very emotional and enjoyable. Our sisters and son met us at the airport with Welcome Home Banners driving our old car, which looked pretty good to PC volunteers that have been riding public transport for two years. I did not realize how much stress it is to live in another culture in a fishbowl until we returned and could just be ourselves. The week was very busy with the insurance companies, IRS (good news we do not owe anything, the penalty for filing late does not apply if you are out of the US), unpacking, arranging repairs to the house, purchasing a washer, dining with friends, enjoying American television, and adjusting to the time change. We are feeling very relaxed and happy to be home. The emotions were unimaginable as we pushed our luggage up the ramp from customs and saw our family waiting for us.
All is not perfect in America but it is pretty darn good! We arrived on Sunday to a house without hot water but one call to the gas company produced a repairman within hours to turn on the pilot light for the hot water heater. It was ironic after spending two years with an undependable water supply, not to mention hot water. The movers arrived Monday morning with our furniture and only a few items were broken or missing.
I requested that our house be repainted exactly as we left it with a Lavender Ice living room, Ivory Charm bedroom and the furniture moved into their old spots. Is this an effort to walk directly into our old lives or are we too disoriented to make changes at this time? After living in one room for two years, our home seems huge but not uncomfortable. Today we enjoyed cooking on a real stove a traditional Fourth of July meal and seeing old friends who may not understand what our experience has been the last two years but know who we are and how we fit into America. Will the honeymoon last? Will we miss the adventure and fun that were constant the last two years (as well as the dangers, annoyances and deprivations)? My feeling is that America can also be an adventure and service opportunities abound. The trick is not to get complacent but to seek new challenges and volunteer opportunities that will continue the Peace Corps experience of helping others and learning about their lives.
Saturday, June 28, 2008
Friday, June 27, 2008
Last Night in South Africa
Tonight is our last night in South Africa and we are filled with excitement, anticipation and deep gratitude for this amazing adventure. We are so thrilled to see our families in a few days and return to America. The week was spent at a Close of Service Conference hearing about life in the United States, career opportunities, adjustment issues for returned Peace Corps Volunteers and catching up on the stories from our colleagues
The medical tests last week took four days but what great news! In spite of daily interaction with HIV/TB patients at Mountain View Hospital, countless rides on taxis with coughing passengers, and many encounters with children our PPT skin tests did not react and we never even had an encounter with TB. The numerous medical tests showed that Peace Corps service is not hazardous to your health. Adjustment to life in the United States may be a challenge but the Bond’s are alive and well!!. Two years spent hiking the dirt roads is good for old coots who love to look at the fantasy scenery and see the game and birds. We are thankful for God’s protection and guardian angels who watched over us in this beautiful country that has its dangers, toils and snares.
The trip back to middle class life takes some work and management. It is a reverse of the process done in July 2006. We are returning to our four bedroom three bath home in a beach community of Southern California. We return with four suitcases filled with momentos of life in Zululand, a very rural section of South Africa. Our suitcases contain baskets, beads, Zulu pots, monkey balls, carvings, ethnic art, kitchen utensils, wooden spoons, and who knows what all. They were packed two weeks ago as we left Mountain High Hospital after two years of serving at an AID/TB hospital serving the poor in the mountains of Kwa Zulu Natal. Our clothing and shoes were worn out and left for the patients and staff at the hospital.
The process of returning is the reverse of the start of the adventure. The movers will return our furniture from storage, our son will move back into our home and we will have the task of unpacking the 44 boxes of housewares, clothing, books, linens and whatever else we thought was important two years ago. We come back without a phone, car, internet connection, or bed but are thankful for our family and friends that will help us readjust and get equipped for US life.
The greater challenge will be to find meaningful work in the United States. Our experience has been intense and we have felt needed, in spite of the challenges of living in a very rural isolated setting. America also has many opportunities for service and many needy people. Hopefully, our service will carry over to our lives in America and we will continue to find opportunities to be of use.
What did we miss during the two years that will be first on the agenda?
Mexican food in Los Angeles. We dream of tamales or chili rellenos from any taco stand or chain restaurant
The ability to get a cell phone with a contract instead of continually buying air time on the pay as you go system for the nonaffluent in South Africa
Driving a car and being able to go out at night, even doing something as simple as going to a movie or church meeting
Having space in our living quarters so that we do not run into each other
Being able to cook with a kitchen counter and a real stove rather than a hot plate
Listening to live classical music
Being able to see the ocean at will and seeing the sunset over the ocean
Hearing American voices and seeing American baseball
Attending church services where global mission is a concern and American English is spoken
Internet and phone service that is not an exercise in frustration
Blending into the crowd and understanding the behavior norms of American society
Toilet seats and paper towels in public places
We will keep you posted about what we miss about South Africa. Tonight we are too close to the experience to recognize what we will be longing for.
The medical tests last week took four days but what great news! In spite of daily interaction with HIV/TB patients at Mountain View Hospital, countless rides on taxis with coughing passengers, and many encounters with children our PPT skin tests did not react and we never even had an encounter with TB. The numerous medical tests showed that Peace Corps service is not hazardous to your health. Adjustment to life in the United States may be a challenge but the Bond’s are alive and well!!. Two years spent hiking the dirt roads is good for old coots who love to look at the fantasy scenery and see the game and birds. We are thankful for God’s protection and guardian angels who watched over us in this beautiful country that has its dangers, toils and snares.
The trip back to middle class life takes some work and management. It is a reverse of the process done in July 2006. We are returning to our four bedroom three bath home in a beach community of Southern California. We return with four suitcases filled with momentos of life in Zululand, a very rural section of South Africa. Our suitcases contain baskets, beads, Zulu pots, monkey balls, carvings, ethnic art, kitchen utensils, wooden spoons, and who knows what all. They were packed two weeks ago as we left Mountain High Hospital after two years of serving at an AID/TB hospital serving the poor in the mountains of Kwa Zulu Natal. Our clothing and shoes were worn out and left for the patients and staff at the hospital.
The process of returning is the reverse of the start of the adventure. The movers will return our furniture from storage, our son will move back into our home and we will have the task of unpacking the 44 boxes of housewares, clothing, books, linens and whatever else we thought was important two years ago. We come back without a phone, car, internet connection, or bed but are thankful for our family and friends that will help us readjust and get equipped for US life.
The greater challenge will be to find meaningful work in the United States. Our experience has been intense and we have felt needed, in spite of the challenges of living in a very rural isolated setting. America also has many opportunities for service and many needy people. Hopefully, our service will carry over to our lives in America and we will continue to find opportunities to be of use.
What did we miss during the two years that will be first on the agenda?
Mexican food in Los Angeles. We dream of tamales or chili rellenos from any taco stand or chain restaurant
The ability to get a cell phone with a contract instead of continually buying air time on the pay as you go system for the nonaffluent in South Africa
Driving a car and being able to go out at night, even doing something as simple as going to a movie or church meeting
Having space in our living quarters so that we do not run into each other
Being able to cook with a kitchen counter and a real stove rather than a hot plate
Listening to live classical music
Being able to see the ocean at will and seeing the sunset over the ocean
Hearing American voices and seeing American baseball
Attending church services where global mission is a concern and American English is spoken
Internet and phone service that is not an exercise in frustration
Blending into the crowd and understanding the behavior norms of American society
Toilet seats and paper towels in public places
We will keep you posted about what we miss about South Africa. Tonight we are too close to the experience to recognize what we will be longing for.
Tuesday, June 17, 2008
Monday, June 16, 2008
Mountain High Farewell
Today we are headed to Pretoria for a week of medical exams and a close of service conference to make sure we are ready for America. The week was very emotive with highs and lows each day as we grew excited about returning home but had to say goodbye to our Zulu friends and coworkers. We crammed in many hours of last minute computer training, shopping trips to make the cupboard was well stocked for the occupational therapy program, packing/discarding our belongings, and even played tour director for 7 US medical students visiting the hospital..
Wednesday was a beautiful warm fall day, the first warm day for several weeks. After lunch in our flat I talked Brendon into a quick hike up the mountain to look at the gorgeous views before we returned to the chaos of the office. We heard beautiful Zulu singing coming from the chapel and I asked someone if there was a funeral today. He said “No funeral, they are singing for you.” We did not understand and kept on our trek out the gate and up the mountain. The kitchen manager gave chase after us and told us that the hospital (unknown to us) was holding a Farewell ceremony for us and we had better head into the chapel. No funeral here as we walked into the crowded chapel and were escorted (danced with the matron on one side and the director on the other) to the head table. Staff, patients, managers, office workers, school teachers and even the principals from the two public schools showed up to say goodbye to the goofy couple from America that never got the Zulu right but tried to help. South Africa knows how to do ceremony and this was no exception. The Zulu songs continued with solos and duets. The speeches started, mainly in Zulu, but a translator was provided so we did not miss any of the kind words and thanks. The nurses got up and did a shtick about riding a bicycle in 1940, a correct date as they are all well into their 60’s and more. A patient got up and read a passage from the Bible. They sang the “BINGO” song which I used each week to round up the patients for a bingo game. They spoke of leaving one’s country to serve AIDS patients in a very rural place. They sang “For she’s a Jolly Good Fellow” and bid us that we would send more Americans to their community to help them. The experience of being the center of such adulation and praise was embarrassing but also intensely endearing. I apologized for all of our gaffes and our poor Zulu. I told them that they would be in our hearts and minds every day, which is certainly true today as I remember their faces and individual style.
I do not know how much we accomplished at Mountain High Hospital but we were able to experience being accepted into a very different culture and embraced in a very special way. It will be a change to go home, blend in, and be ignored by neighbors and children in the street. We are so grateful that we have had this opportunity and that we have stayed healthy throughout this amazing experience.
Wednesday was a beautiful warm fall day, the first warm day for several weeks. After lunch in our flat I talked Brendon into a quick hike up the mountain to look at the gorgeous views before we returned to the chaos of the office. We heard beautiful Zulu singing coming from the chapel and I asked someone if there was a funeral today. He said “No funeral, they are singing for you.” We did not understand and kept on our trek out the gate and up the mountain. The kitchen manager gave chase after us and told us that the hospital (unknown to us) was holding a Farewell ceremony for us and we had better head into the chapel. No funeral here as we walked into the crowded chapel and were escorted (danced with the matron on one side and the director on the other) to the head table. Staff, patients, managers, office workers, school teachers and even the principals from the two public schools showed up to say goodbye to the goofy couple from America that never got the Zulu right but tried to help. South Africa knows how to do ceremony and this was no exception. The Zulu songs continued with solos and duets. The speeches started, mainly in Zulu, but a translator was provided so we did not miss any of the kind words and thanks. The nurses got up and did a shtick about riding a bicycle in 1940, a correct date as they are all well into their 60’s and more. A patient got up and read a passage from the Bible. They sang the “BINGO” song which I used each week to round up the patients for a bingo game. They spoke of leaving one’s country to serve AIDS patients in a very rural place. They sang “For she’s a Jolly Good Fellow” and bid us that we would send more Americans to their community to help them. The experience of being the center of such adulation and praise was embarrassing but also intensely endearing. I apologized for all of our gaffes and our poor Zulu. I told them that they would be in our hearts and minds every day, which is certainly true today as I remember their faces and individual style.
I do not know how much we accomplished at Mountain High Hospital but we were able to experience being accepted into a very different culture and embraced in a very special way. It will be a change to go home, blend in, and be ignored by neighbors and children in the street. We are so grateful that we have had this opportunity and that we have stayed healthy throughout this amazing experience.
Thursday, June 12, 2008
Sunday, June 08, 2008
End of the Adventure
Last week’s blog left you stranded in the rhino roadblock out of Hluhluwe. From Hluhluwe the Bond’s headed to a nearby private game preserve to readjust to life in the first world-albeit with a twist as one is required to have escorts from the beautiful chalets after dark as there is no fences; game (including predators) have the right of way. The facilities for tourists in South Africa are fabulous starting with low cost backpackers for youth (and Peace Corps on a budget) and ending with the ultimate in service, comfort, ambiance, luxury and value not to mention award winning cuisine with a South African twist. A few days at the top of the heap didn’t hurt the Peace Corps folks as we have found that true class and excellence is not snooty or pretentious-just staff and facilities that want to do their best. Of course, this experience was helped by a web site “Mtbeds.co.za.” that offers deluxe accommodations for a fraction of their rack rate. This game lodge chain emphasizes conservation in the true sense of the word. South Africa has been a leader in the science of conservation and restoration of lands to their original state- whether it be reforestation of indigenous species, eradication of invasive flora or stabilization of the natural order of the animal kingdom.
So what is it like to stay in a high end private lodge? The bathroom was as big as our flat at Mountain High! The setting was lovely-like a tree house with a deck surrounding the beautiful chalet, outdoor shower and private plunge pool. The room was beautifully decorated in artistic African style with treats and snacks refilled at no extra charge. The floor was not so lovely as it was treated slick cement and extremely slippery when wet. (looked good but almost fatal for old folks not used to walking on wet slick cement). The room had cement steps leading to the bathroom and outdoor deck which also were a hazard in the night as one had no clues in the deep darkness how to find the way. So all is not paradise at the top of the heap! However, the professionalism and kindness of the staff were a cut above normal, not to mention the serendipity surprises just for the delight of the guests. Game drives are included (as is every service one normally is charged extra). On a morning game drive, the guide hurried to a beautiful site by a watering hole to find the staff cooking crepes by the pond on a gas stove with lemons, honey, maple syrup and cinnamon sugar to delight the jaded guests.)
Three days were spent at the private game lodge enjoying fantastic game drives and sightings (cheetahs, lions, elephants, rhinos, cape buffalo). Cheetahs are flourishing- we saw three family groups during our short visit. The first family group (mother and two cubs) were spotted close to the lodge. The two cubs wrestled with each other while mom sat on an old termite mound looking for a lone impala. Her belly was hollow against the beautiful spotted coat. A wart hog appeared on the scene and the cubs gave chase but were no match for the old wise wart hog. The next day we saw more drama as another family of cheetahs lounged in the grass at the air strip. A family of wart hogs was grazing nearby. The father calmly trotted over to the cheetahs to see if they were any threat to his family. These cheetahs had full bellies and were content to sleep off the afternoon. Such is life in the Bush!
After this amazing experience of pleasure, entertainment, and ease we were ready to return to Mountain High, pack our things and complete the loose ends. The Hospital had a Management Team meeting this week which was a first! A fulltime doctor has been hired who wants to help the poor and is an expert in administrative procedures as well as being an expert at TB/HIV. So we are leaving on a good note. (even if the phones have been out for a week and the water problem has not been solved). Two years is a long time to be gone and we are ready to come home. Today was spent packing and sorting-the reverse of what we did 2 years ago when we moved in. Again we have four suitcases and 3 boxes to ship. Our books, clothes, and household supplies will be offered to a new Peace Corps volunteer in Vryheid, our Zulu teacher, and the staff/patients at Mountain High Hospital. We will travel to Pretoria next week for a week of medical exams, on to a close of service conference and will fly out on 28 June. See you then!
So what is it like to stay in a high end private lodge? The bathroom was as big as our flat at Mountain High! The setting was lovely-like a tree house with a deck surrounding the beautiful chalet, outdoor shower and private plunge pool. The room was beautifully decorated in artistic African style with treats and snacks refilled at no extra charge. The floor was not so lovely as it was treated slick cement and extremely slippery when wet. (looked good but almost fatal for old folks not used to walking on wet slick cement). The room had cement steps leading to the bathroom and outdoor deck which also were a hazard in the night as one had no clues in the deep darkness how to find the way. So all is not paradise at the top of the heap! However, the professionalism and kindness of the staff were a cut above normal, not to mention the serendipity surprises just for the delight of the guests. Game drives are included (as is every service one normally is charged extra). On a morning game drive, the guide hurried to a beautiful site by a watering hole to find the staff cooking crepes by the pond on a gas stove with lemons, honey, maple syrup and cinnamon sugar to delight the jaded guests.)
Three days were spent at the private game lodge enjoying fantastic game drives and sightings (cheetahs, lions, elephants, rhinos, cape buffalo). Cheetahs are flourishing- we saw three family groups during our short visit. The first family group (mother and two cubs) were spotted close to the lodge. The two cubs wrestled with each other while mom sat on an old termite mound looking for a lone impala. Her belly was hollow against the beautiful spotted coat. A wart hog appeared on the scene and the cubs gave chase but were no match for the old wise wart hog. The next day we saw more drama as another family of cheetahs lounged in the grass at the air strip. A family of wart hogs was grazing nearby. The father calmly trotted over to the cheetahs to see if they were any threat to his family. These cheetahs had full bellies and were content to sleep off the afternoon. Such is life in the Bush!
After this amazing experience of pleasure, entertainment, and ease we were ready to return to Mountain High, pack our things and complete the loose ends. The Hospital had a Management Team meeting this week which was a first! A fulltime doctor has been hired who wants to help the poor and is an expert in administrative procedures as well as being an expert at TB/HIV. So we are leaving on a good note. (even if the phones have been out for a week and the water problem has not been solved). Two years is a long time to be gone and we are ready to come home. Today was spent packing and sorting-the reverse of what we did 2 years ago when we moved in. Again we have four suitcases and 3 boxes to ship. Our books, clothes, and household supplies will be offered to a new Peace Corps volunteer in Vryheid, our Zulu teacher, and the staff/patients at Mountain High Hospital. We will travel to Pretoria next week for a week of medical exams, on to a close of service conference and will fly out on 28 June. See you then!
Sunday, June 01, 2008
Rhino Roadblock
This was a great week, starting on the high note of joyfulness in service. Our church in Vryheid held an AIDS memorial service Sunday, with a candle lighting to remember friends and loved ones who have died of this scourge. Barely able to hold back tears, Brendon and I lit candles, remembering the good-hearted driver who clowned around to make the patients laugh and the hard working kitchen helper. The minister’s sermon was even more compelling as she stated that we are all infected or affected by AIDS and that we are One in this disease as everyone could be HIV positive. Her message was refrain from judging others; rather offer love and kindness. Her final admonition was to “Joyfully serve HIV/AIDs patients, especially the poor.”
I took the message to heart and found that the work at Mountain High Hospital was a pleasure when the “Joyfully Serve” message is applied and that the Sewing, beading and bingo activities went well when my attitude improved. When I come to the patients with a smile and a song, they respond with smiles and warmth. When I am intent on just getting the job done without any supplies pilfered, they are withdrawn and anxious. Joyful service is contagious. This week the Zulu nurse and young male assistant broke into song and started the Zulu stomp dance which raised the spirits of the patients as we
celebrated another day of life. No one complained about the projects for the day or the inadequacy of the materials. The group was united in Ubuntu-the joy of humanness.
Tonight we are at Hluhluw
e Game Park, using up our last few days of leave before we return to Mountain High to complete our tasks, pack up and head to Pretoria for medical exams and a close of service conference. For the Bond’s the Game is the Thing in South Africa and today was no disappointment. Hluhluwe was the Zulu King Shaka’s hunting grounds and the park contains all of Big Five in a lovely mountainous setting in KwaZulu-Natal. The terrain is as interesting as the game with grassy savannahs, acacias and aloes dotting the hillsides, beautiful tree canopies, marula trees that are delicacies to the many elephants and comfortable, reasonable accommodations. At a view stop on the game drive we spotted four Cape buffalo, two elephants and two white rhino on the three sides of the hill, three of the big five with a turn of the head.
We stopped to look at a mother and baby rhino by the side of the road. The b
aby turned to look at our little white Nissan and thought she had found a playmate. The baby ambled towards our car. We backed up but the baby continued forward to meet this new friend. We backed up again and started to get a little anxious when the baby was only 5 feet in front of our car. By this time another car had stopped behind our car and we couldn’t back up any further. The horns on the baby looke
d huge not to mention her mother who started to glare at us ominously. Finally Mother took matters in hand and using her horn prodded to her child’s bottom to get off the road and not play with strangers.
A short time up the road from Mother and Baby Rhino we spotted 5 adult rhinos grazing on the side of the hill. (White rhinos graze, black rhinos browse). They headed up the hill to the road with the intent to cross to the other side which was a hilly embankment. The sight of 5 huge rhinos crossing a narrow one lane road was utterly amazing but the story does not end there. The first rhino to cross the road had evidently taken the wrong path and didn’t know where the trail was on the other side of the road. Soon all five rhinos were milling about, carrying on a rhino-conference, debating the finer points of navigation and berating the poor fellow who led them astray. Traffic began to pile up as cars parked and could not proceed through the rhino roadblock, and of course the rhino’s way was blocked by the cars – gridlock Hluhluwe-style. It is unclear who looked more stupid – the rhinos contemplating possible paths up the hill or the drivers contemplating being stranded by a rhino road block for the rest of the day. After about 10 minutes of indecision, one brave rhino turned again to the hillside and bravely created his own path up the incline. Soon his pals followed in suit and the show was over. Engines started and the drivers moved on to the next extraordinary sight.
I took the message to heart and found that the work at Mountain High Hospital was a pleasure when the “Joyfully Serve” message is applied and that the Sewing, beading and bingo activities went well when my attitude improved. When I come to the patients with a smile and a song, they respond with smiles and warmth. When I am intent on just getting the job done without any supplies pilfered, they are withdrawn and anxious. Joyful service is contagious. This week the Zulu nurse and young male assistant broke into song and started the Zulu stomp dance which raised the spirits of the patients as we
celebrated another day of life. No one complained about the projects for the day or the inadequacy of the materials. The group was united in Ubuntu-the joy of humanness.
Tonight we are at Hluhluw
e Game Park, using up our last few days of leave before we return to Mountain High to complete our tasks, pack up and head to Pretoria for medical exams and a close of service conference. For the Bond’s the Game is the Thing in South Africa and today was no disappointment. Hluhluwe was the Zulu King Shaka’s hunting grounds and the park contains all of Big Five in a lovely mountainous setting in KwaZulu-Natal. The terrain is as interesting as the game with grassy savannahs, acacias and aloes dotting the hillsides, beautiful tree canopies, marula trees that are delicacies to the many elephants and comfortable, reasonable accommodations. At a view stop on the game drive we spotted four Cape buffalo, two elephants and two white rhino on the three sides of the hill, three of the big five with a turn of the head.We stopped to look at a mother and baby rhino by the side of the road. The b
aby turned to look at our little white Nissan and thought she had found a playmate. The baby ambled towards our car. We backed up but the baby continued forward to meet this new friend. We backed up again and started to get a little anxious when the baby was only 5 feet in front of our car. By this time another car had stopped behind our car and we couldn’t back up any further. The horns on the baby looke
d huge not to mention her mother who started to glare at us ominously. Finally Mother took matters in hand and using her horn prodded to her child’s bottom to get off the road and not play with strangers.A short time up the road from Mother and Baby Rhino we spotted 5 adult rhinos grazing on the side of the hill. (White rhinos graze, black rhinos browse). They headed up the hill to the road with the intent to cross to the other side which was a hilly embankment. The sight of 5 huge rhinos crossing a narrow one lane road was utterly amazing but the story does not end there. The first rhino to cross the road had evidently taken the wrong path and didn’t know where the trail was on the other side of the road. Soon all five rhinos were milling about, carrying on a rhino-conference, debating the finer points of navigation and berating the poor fellow who led them astray. Traffic began to pile up as cars parked and could not proceed through the rhino roadblock, and of course the rhino’s way was blocked by the cars – gridlock Hluhluwe-style. It is unclear who looked more stupid – the rhinos contemplating possible paths up the hill or the drivers contemplating being stranded by a rhino road block for the rest of the day. After about 10 minutes of indecision, one brave rhino turned again to the hillside and bravely created his own path up the incline. Soon his pals followed in suit and the show was over. Engines started and the drivers moved on to the next extraordinary sight.
Saturday, May 24, 2008
PV PCVS Meet
The world is a small place – surprises happen in the least expected way. Last weekend a South African Peace Corps couple working with the education program arrived at Mountain High Hospital for a site visit. Peace Corps volunteers are encouraged to visit other sites to offer skills, support and see another version of the Peace Corps experience. The site visit was not surprising but the demographics of the couple blew us over.
John and Christine, US Peace Corps Volunteers in the Northwest province, live one km from our home in Palos Verdes, Calif. We had never met them before arriving in South Africa but surely in our 22 years of residing in that lovely beachside town, we ran into them on the bumpy road circling the town, or at the post office or farmer’s market. Further ironies abound including the fact that Christine’s parents lived on our street and she resided with her parents when we moved into our home in 1987. We must have passed each other up and down the hills of Palos Verdes, me pushing a baby stroller and her jogging to maintain her trim figure. They are roughly the same age as us and the same middle class occupations; she an elementary school teacher and he an aerospace engineer like Brendon. To many observers, the residents of Palos Verdes may appear to be materialistic workaholics with nary an altruistic thought. We have learned that success does not obviate a desire to make one’s life count for good and that material success can create opportunities for service and mission.
In our former working lives, we did not have time to stop and chat with the neighbors and learn about their lives. However, Peace Corps volunteers have ample time to get to know other volunteers and relish the opportunity to speak freely and be understood, especially to new friends who are from home. What a coincidence! Another irony is that both of us have homes in very close proximity to the national training center for our current NGO in South Africa. Truly a small world!
The trip to Richards Bay to meet John and Christine was an adventure in itself. The ride down the mountain was a first as the only available transport was in the poor man’s hearse-an enclosed pick-up truck operated by Zuntal Funerals. We were glad for any ride at all as there is only one bus a day that leaves Vryheid at 3pm and arrives in RB at 6pm. We squeezed into the cab, passing up the opportunity to ride with the silent passengers in the bed of the truck. The driver was animated in his description of his journeys all over South Africa to retrieve the dead-most from AIDS but many from gun fights and vehicle accidents. As we entered town, he pulled over and said we had to get out as he did not want the mortuary owners spotting him with living passengers. He had no change for our R100 (the trip should have cost R50) we were out R50 and 2 miles to the Greyhound bus stop. Plus we were next to a grassy field by a location (government housing) and we shouted “Target” with our backpacks and bags. We passed the location, junkyards, funeral parlors, body shops, big box hardware stores, town park, taxi rank, discount stores, grocery stores, clothing stores, shoe stores, fabric stores, department stores, banks, jewelry stores, post office, and finally arrived at the bench in front of the Spar Market that serves as the bus stop. The bus was 30 minutes late but was a big relief when we climbed on the double decker and headed for Richards Bay to meet John and Christine.
For those of you that have been following the headlines about South Africa, do not worry about PCVs at Mountain High Hospital. We are safe with only the sounds of the Ha De Da Ibis to keep us awake and the high schoolers as they cheer when school is out or they are on their way to study hall. The protesters are complaining that foreigners are taking their jobs and women. We tell people at the Hospital that we are not here to do their work; we are here to enable them to get ahead and improve their lives.
John and Christine, US Peace Corps Volunteers in the Northwest province, live one km from our home in Palos Verdes, Calif. We had never met them before arriving in South Africa but surely in our 22 years of residing in that lovely beachside town, we ran into them on the bumpy road circling the town, or at the post office or farmer’s market. Further ironies abound including the fact that Christine’s parents lived on our street and she resided with her parents when we moved into our home in 1987. We must have passed each other up and down the hills of Palos Verdes, me pushing a baby stroller and her jogging to maintain her trim figure. They are roughly the same age as us and the same middle class occupations; she an elementary school teacher and he an aerospace engineer like Brendon. To many observers, the residents of Palos Verdes may appear to be materialistic workaholics with nary an altruistic thought. We have learned that success does not obviate a desire to make one’s life count for good and that material success can create opportunities for service and mission.
In our former working lives, we did not have time to stop and chat with the neighbors and learn about their lives. However, Peace Corps volunteers have ample time to get to know other volunteers and relish the opportunity to speak freely and be understood, especially to new friends who are from home. What a coincidence! Another irony is that both of us have homes in very close proximity to the national training center for our current NGO in South Africa. Truly a small world!
The trip to Richards Bay to meet John and Christine was an adventure in itself. The ride down the mountain was a first as the only available transport was in the poor man’s hearse-an enclosed pick-up truck operated by Zuntal Funerals. We were glad for any ride at all as there is only one bus a day that leaves Vryheid at 3pm and arrives in RB at 6pm. We squeezed into the cab, passing up the opportunity to ride with the silent passengers in the bed of the truck. The driver was animated in his description of his journeys all over South Africa to retrieve the dead-most from AIDS but many from gun fights and vehicle accidents. As we entered town, he pulled over and said we had to get out as he did not want the mortuary owners spotting him with living passengers. He had no change for our R100 (the trip should have cost R50) we were out R50 and 2 miles to the Greyhound bus stop. Plus we were next to a grassy field by a location (government housing) and we shouted “Target” with our backpacks and bags. We passed the location, junkyards, funeral parlors, body shops, big box hardware stores, town park, taxi rank, discount stores, grocery stores, clothing stores, shoe stores, fabric stores, department stores, banks, jewelry stores, post office, and finally arrived at the bench in front of the Spar Market that serves as the bus stop. The bus was 30 minutes late but was a big relief when we climbed on the double decker and headed for Richards Bay to meet John and Christine.
For those of you that have been following the headlines about South Africa, do not worry about PCVs at Mountain High Hospital. We are safe with only the sounds of the Ha De Da Ibis to keep us awake and the high schoolers as they cheer when school is out or they are on their way to study hall. The protesters are complaining that foreigners are taking their jobs and women. We tell people at the Hospital that we are not here to do their work; we are here to enable them to get ahead and improve their lives.
Monday, May 12, 2008
Mother's Day 2008
It is Mother’s Day weekend and I am missing my two sons in America. They have had two birthdays since we left Los Angeles. As we have changed through the Peace Corps experience, they have changed in ways we do not know. They have found new support systems and are independent men. We missed two years of their lives; likewise we missed two years of American life and culture. Our youngest son Alex has graduated from UCLA and is on the job hunt. Our oldest son, Erik, has worked as a Manhattan attorney for 4 years and is shooting for a partnership in his law factory. So congratulations to Alex and Erik. Thanks for letting your parents realize their dream. We will be home soon and will take another stab at parenting. Sorry for the absence!
Peace Corps volunteers miss the daily contact with friends and family and the family events that weave society together. However, other volunteers and new adopted families fill the void left from loved ones at home. This weekend two volunteers visited Mountain High and the laughter began as soon as they stepped off the bus. We would never have met these two great pals had we not joined Peace Corps as one is a new college grad in his 20’s with an interest in music and biology and the other a fortyish film producer from Michigan. What would these two Americans have in common with a coot couple from Palos Verdes? Well, the conversation and fun started immediately after they arrived and continued the whole weekend as we hiked the steep treks at Mountain High and ventured through the nearby indigenous forest with cool shady canopies, waterfalls, delicate white orchids and fern grottos. They both love hiking, nature, adventure and discovery. They squealed with delight at the 5” brown locust with chartreuse beading around his neck, just like four-year-olds. They were game for climbing rocks, trees and cadging avocados from the huge tree on the hospital site. As good Peace Corps volunteers, not a complaint was uttered about sleeping on the hard floor or the lack of water.
Peace Corps teaches more than patience and flexibility-one learns to have fun and to enjoy the company of unlikely companions. These two volunteers have shared our experience and have the same issues about the complexity of life in South Africa (we love it except when we hate it), trouble with NGOs and the tragedy of AIDS. Together we have all seen unspeakable suffering and so many needless deaths. They are also interested in helping the world and saving the environment. They speak freely, without cynicism, about income generation for the poor and renewable resources. Peace Corps volunteers may not “save the world” but they do have success in passing on first world skills and showing the positive determination of Americans to their colleagues and friends.
Our Peace Corps guests entertained the patients with origami, yoga, and a delightful fable in Zulu about a couple who was granted three wishes as a reward for freeing a monkey’s tail. The moral of the fable was to be careful what you wish for. As we return to the United States we are full of wishes and hopes for the future. How will we fit back into our home community? What will our lives look like a year from now? One thing that we have learned; one’s happiness and joy of living are not based on external conveniences; the absence of convenience may cause annoyance and frustration but not unhappiness. Whereas, access to conveniences does not bring happiness or satisfaction. American lives are full of stress and difficulty in spite of the affluence and amenities. Our lives here have been very simple, but intensely rewarding. We have found a purpose for every day-can the same be said for our comfortable lives in the US?
Peace Corps volunteers miss the daily contact with friends and family and the family events that weave society together. However, other volunteers and new adopted families fill the void left from loved ones at home. This weekend two volunteers visited Mountain High and the laughter began as soon as they stepped off the bus. We would never have met these two great pals had we not joined Peace Corps as one is a new college grad in his 20’s with an interest in music and biology and the other a fortyish film producer from Michigan. What would these two Americans have in common with a coot couple from Palos Verdes? Well, the conversation and fun started immediately after they arrived and continued the whole weekend as we hiked the steep treks at Mountain High and ventured through the nearby indigenous forest with cool shady canopies, waterfalls, delicate white orchids and fern grottos. They both love hiking, nature, adventure and discovery. They squealed with delight at the 5” brown locust with chartreuse beading around his neck, just like four-year-olds. They were game for climbing rocks, trees and cadging avocados from the huge tree on the hospital site. As good Peace Corps volunteers, not a complaint was uttered about sleeping on the hard floor or the lack of water.
Peace Corps teaches more than patience and flexibility-one learns to have fun and to enjoy the company of unlikely companions. These two volunteers have shared our experience and have the same issues about the complexity of life in South Africa (we love it except when we hate it), trouble with NGOs and the tragedy of AIDS. Together we have all seen unspeakable suffering and so many needless deaths. They are also interested in helping the world and saving the environment. They speak freely, without cynicism, about income generation for the poor and renewable resources. Peace Corps volunteers may not “save the world” but they do have success in passing on first world skills and showing the positive determination of Americans to their colleagues and friends.
Our Peace Corps guests entertained the patients with origami, yoga, and a delightful fable in Zulu about a couple who was granted three wishes as a reward for freeing a monkey’s tail. The moral of the fable was to be careful what you wish for. As we return to the United States we are full of wishes and hopes for the future. How will we fit back into our home community? What will our lives look like a year from now? One thing that we have learned; one’s happiness and joy of living are not based on external conveniences; the absence of convenience may cause annoyance and frustration but not unhappiness. Whereas, access to conveniences does not bring happiness or satisfaction. American lives are full of stress and difficulty in spite of the affluence and amenities. Our lives here have been very simple, but intensely rewarding. We have found a purpose for every day-can the same be said for our comfortable lives in the US?
Sunday, May 04, 2008
No Money No Honey
This weekend South Africa celebrated May 1, Workers Day, and May 2, Human Rights Day, gifting the workers with a four day weekend. South Africa takes public holidays seriously guaranteeing them under “Conditions of Employment” labor law. Workers Day was used by unions to “toy toy’ (protest) rising food and transportation costs, which disproportionately affect the poor (and Peace Corps volunteers on a fixed income). Many staple food items; cooking oil, corn, cheese, milk, eggs, have almost doubled in price. Taxi fares have risen at least 20% while wages remain constant.
As Peace Corps volunteers we hear first hand the woes of the rural poor. Besides the immediate deprivations from increases in food, fuel and transport, their isolation increases as trips to town are reduced. Access to employment, advanced education and economic opportunities is also reduced as transport costs increase. South Africa is two countries with the rural poor often stuck in subsistence activities; cultural beliefs conflict with first world knowledge. Ancestors are revered - does ancestor worship continue? AIDS and HIV are understood but sangomas (traditional healers) are often consulted before doctors. Sangomas throw their bones (tiny rocks and shells) to diagnose a customer's ailments. AIDS (also called Zulu Disease) may be attributed to a neighbor’s hex.
The Gauteng province (Johannesburg and Pretoria) produce 80% of the nation’s GDP and has a service/manufacturing economy to match the first world. However, the rest of the nation struggles with massive unemployment and a work ethic that may not compete with other developing nations. Wages are depressed compared to prices and workers are laden with high interest debt. Inflation has risen above 10% but even with lengthy strikes last summer, wages increased only 7.5% in the public sector.
The Bond’s used the weekend to plan for their return to the United States. We considered the steps needed to exit South Africa and the processes required to return to our life in Palos Verdes. Consumer goods loom large as an alluring, yet scary proposition after two years without a car, washing machine, television or CD player. Returned Peace Corps volunteers are reportedly anti consumerism or the opposite-they readily embrace the consumerism of the first world. Have we changed? Do we need or want “all that stuff” that becomes a burden as one ages. From our experience with loved ones, we all end up in a small room, in a small bed with one change of clothes.
What household items did we throw away or give away that we will need? More likely in the 44 boxes at Bekins storage, what additional pieces of crockery, potato mashers or bath towels should be been given away to simplify life, help someone else or reduce the Bekins monthly bill. What about our king size platform bed that we couldn’t find a home for and had to lay on the street for the trash collectors. Last night I ogled over new beds on the Costco and Macy’s web site and was a little embarrassed to be sucked into American style consumerism. Our last night at home in America was spent on the floor-we slept like tired old dogs! Peace corps has taught resilience as well as patience and flexibility. Hope it holds in the US.
The food price increase and subprime market have created uncertain conditions at home in America, especially for the working poor. We have been gone for two years, leaving in 2006 when housing prices were still shooting through the roof, wages were increasing and consumers were spending all of their paychecks and more. We entered the Peace Corps hoping to live on the small monthly stipend (approx $230) that is provided for food, communication (cell phone, internet) transport, recreation, travel, and clothing. With the upturn in food prices, the stipend has barely covered our food costs. Taxi cost each week to make the 80km trip to town to purchase food total $16 for the two of us. Local residents purchase staple groceries in town only once a month as their salaries are only a little more than the Peace Corps stipend. Thus their diets are deficient in nutrients, although no one is starving as in other parts of Africa.
So, what does it cost to join the Peace Corps? Contrary to our expectations, travel, communication and transportation cannot be done on the Peace Corps budget. Other hidden costs of the experience are financial and business management costs at home, storage of furniture and belongings for two years. Of course, the major cost has been the loss of income for two years, but that is a given. We left the US with credit card debt and will return with the same. However it sure has been a fun ride!
As Peace Corps volunteers we hear first hand the woes of the rural poor. Besides the immediate deprivations from increases in food, fuel and transport, their isolation increases as trips to town are reduced. Access to employment, advanced education and economic opportunities is also reduced as transport costs increase. South Africa is two countries with the rural poor often stuck in subsistence activities; cultural beliefs conflict with first world knowledge. Ancestors are revered - does ancestor worship continue? AIDS and HIV are understood but sangomas (traditional healers) are often consulted before doctors. Sangomas throw their bones (tiny rocks and shells) to diagnose a customer's ailments. AIDS (also called Zulu Disease) may be attributed to a neighbor’s hex.
The Gauteng province (Johannesburg and Pretoria) produce 80% of the nation’s GDP and has a service/manufacturing economy to match the first world. However, the rest of the nation struggles with massive unemployment and a work ethic that may not compete with other developing nations. Wages are depressed compared to prices and workers are laden with high interest debt. Inflation has risen above 10% but even with lengthy strikes last summer, wages increased only 7.5% in the public sector.
The Bond’s used the weekend to plan for their return to the United States. We considered the steps needed to exit South Africa and the processes required to return to our life in Palos Verdes. Consumer goods loom large as an alluring, yet scary proposition after two years without a car, washing machine, television or CD player. Returned Peace Corps volunteers are reportedly anti consumerism or the opposite-they readily embrace the consumerism of the first world. Have we changed? Do we need or want “all that stuff” that becomes a burden as one ages. From our experience with loved ones, we all end up in a small room, in a small bed with one change of clothes.
What household items did we throw away or give away that we will need? More likely in the 44 boxes at Bekins storage, what additional pieces of crockery, potato mashers or bath towels should be been given away to simplify life, help someone else or reduce the Bekins monthly bill. What about our king size platform bed that we couldn’t find a home for and had to lay on the street for the trash collectors. Last night I ogled over new beds on the Costco and Macy’s web site and was a little embarrassed to be sucked into American style consumerism. Our last night at home in America was spent on the floor-we slept like tired old dogs! Peace corps has taught resilience as well as patience and flexibility. Hope it holds in the US.
The food price increase and subprime market have created uncertain conditions at home in America, especially for the working poor. We have been gone for two years, leaving in 2006 when housing prices were still shooting through the roof, wages were increasing and consumers were spending all of their paychecks and more. We entered the Peace Corps hoping to live on the small monthly stipend (approx $230) that is provided for food, communication (cell phone, internet) transport, recreation, travel, and clothing. With the upturn in food prices, the stipend has barely covered our food costs. Taxi cost each week to make the 80km trip to town to purchase food total $16 for the two of us. Local residents purchase staple groceries in town only once a month as their salaries are only a little more than the Peace Corps stipend. Thus their diets are deficient in nutrients, although no one is starving as in other parts of Africa.
So, what does it cost to join the Peace Corps? Contrary to our expectations, travel, communication and transportation cannot be done on the Peace Corps budget. Other hidden costs of the experience are financial and business management costs at home, storage of furniture and belongings for two years. Of course, the major cost has been the loss of income for two years, but that is a given. We left the US with credit card debt and will return with the same. However it sure has been a fun ride!
Wednesday, April 30, 2008
Tuesday, April 29, 2008
Walking Safari
South Africa has many attractions, but none can compete with the Wildlife and Game which can be found in many areas of the country. This weekend we tried a new adventure-The Walking Safari at a game preserve near Mountain High Hospital in Kwa Zulu Natal. Most game preserves require that the visitor stay in their car at all times. Viewing game from the car or open air jeep is fun but the bush calls for trekking to be done on foot. By staying in the car, one can get closer to the Big Five (lion, leopard, elephant, rhino and cape buffalo) and better photos but nothing can compare to tracking a rhinos feces or listening for the crack of timber as the elephant breaks apart trees for lunch.
The Bush Camp experience starts with meeting the ranger at the gate of the huge preserve and heading off to the camp deep in the sand forest. After a 25 minute drive in the open air jeep, the driver abruptly stops in the dirt road and announces that we have arrived. No trace of building or man’s intrusions into the bush is apparent until we walk a small path and arrive at the HQ tent for the camp. Couches and bookshelves line the tent and cold glasses of juice greet the visitor. The four tents accommodating 8 guests are located out in the bush with no views of any other tent, just the forest, scrub and bushes of this ecosystem.
Walking Safari Bush Camp day starts at 515am with hot water lugged to each tent and coffee awaiting. By 6am the eight of us (four couples, youngish and oldish) head out on the trail with our two armed guides. Cormorants, kingfishers, darters, and eagles are spotted on the trail. Shy nyala dart into the bush and we pass. Our guides show us how to read animal tracks- the sausage like hooded cobra sand formation, the long streams from the quills of the porcupine. The crack of timber and rustling of tall tree canopies indicates an elephant is feeding and we creep along, single file hoping to get a glimpse of the huge creature. The guide strategizes a plan so that we can surround the animal without getting too close and being detected. As soon as one is spotted by the elephants they will give a warning charge and stomp away. The guide slung his sock filled with ash from the morning campfire to determine the direction of the wind and proceeded up wind. He cautiously beckoned us to crouch and run two by two to track the elephant. At last we found a sheltered camouflaged hiding spot and watched the huge bull tramp through the forest to a small pan (watering hold) where he garously sucked the muddy water up into his trunk and joyously sprayed his warm body with the cool mud. He repeated his pleasurable bath several times and then marched off into the trees.
After one hikes for 4 hours viewing several different ecosystems, the group returns to camp for brunch and showers rigged up with hand filled fabric tanks of waters in the great outdoors. Afternoon is spent resting in the comfortable king size beds with high tea at 330pm. The late afternoon starts off with a game drive and short hike. As the jeep journeyed off the dirt road into the grassland, a mother cheetah was spotted with four cubs (one orphan included) sleeping beneath and acacia tree. The mother was not disturbed as we took pictures and marveled at the amazing sight. Cheetahs have been reintroduced into the preserve and are doing well. They look similar to Leopards but have solid spots, rather than the rosettes of leopards. They are built for speed.
The night is pitch black as we return to camp for dinner. The guides point out the blazing stars in the Southern Constellation: Orion, the Southern Cross, the Dog and the gorgeous Milky Way. We wind through the dark night and spot three honey badgers waddling down the road. The most dramatic moment of this night of drama was coming upon the hundreds of torches and the fire that light up the camp at night. Dinner of salmon and ostrich cooked on the open fire awaited 8 hungry hikers. Tall tales of our bravery defying Mother Nature were the entertainment by the fire as we enjoyed a most thrilling and exciting weekend.
The Bush Camp experience starts with meeting the ranger at the gate of the huge preserve and heading off to the camp deep in the sand forest. After a 25 minute drive in the open air jeep, the driver abruptly stops in the dirt road and announces that we have arrived. No trace of building or man’s intrusions into the bush is apparent until we walk a small path and arrive at the HQ tent for the camp. Couches and bookshelves line the tent and cold glasses of juice greet the visitor. The four tents accommodating 8 guests are located out in the bush with no views of any other tent, just the forest, scrub and bushes of this ecosystem.
Walking Safari Bush Camp day starts at 515am with hot water lugged to each tent and coffee awaiting. By 6am the eight of us (four couples, youngish and oldish) head out on the trail with our two armed guides. Cormorants, kingfishers, darters, and eagles are spotted on the trail. Shy nyala dart into the bush and we pass. Our guides show us how to read animal tracks- the sausage like hooded cobra sand formation, the long streams from the quills of the porcupine. The crack of timber and rustling of tall tree canopies indicates an elephant is feeding and we creep along, single file hoping to get a glimpse of the huge creature. The guide strategizes a plan so that we can surround the animal without getting too close and being detected. As soon as one is spotted by the elephants they will give a warning charge and stomp away. The guide slung his sock filled with ash from the morning campfire to determine the direction of the wind and proceeded up wind. He cautiously beckoned us to crouch and run two by two to track the elephant. At last we found a sheltered camouflaged hiding spot and watched the huge bull tramp through the forest to a small pan (watering hold) where he garously sucked the muddy water up into his trunk and joyously sprayed his warm body with the cool mud. He repeated his pleasurable bath several times and then marched off into the trees.
After one hikes for 4 hours viewing several different ecosystems, the group returns to camp for brunch and showers rigged up with hand filled fabric tanks of waters in the great outdoors. Afternoon is spent resting in the comfortable king size beds with high tea at 330pm. The late afternoon starts off with a game drive and short hike. As the jeep journeyed off the dirt road into the grassland, a mother cheetah was spotted with four cubs (one orphan included) sleeping beneath and acacia tree. The mother was not disturbed as we took pictures and marveled at the amazing sight. Cheetahs have been reintroduced into the preserve and are doing well. They look similar to Leopards but have solid spots, rather than the rosettes of leopards. They are built for speed.
The night is pitch black as we return to camp for dinner. The guides point out the blazing stars in the Southern Constellation: Orion, the Southern Cross, the Dog and the gorgeous Milky Way. We wind through the dark night and spot three honey badgers waddling down the road. The most dramatic moment of this night of drama was coming upon the hundreds of torches and the fire that light up the camp at night. Dinner of salmon and ostrich cooked on the open fire awaited 8 hungry hikers. Tall tales of our bravery defying Mother Nature were the entertainment by the fire as we enjoyed a most thrilling and exciting weekend.
Thursday, April 24, 2008
Life on the Nile
Blog 24 April 08
The Bond’s have been traveling to the far north of Africa to use up the last week of leave allotted by the Peace Corps – a trip to Egypt and a cruise down the Nile. Ironically this “Luxury” vacation was affordable by US standards and not the first choice of two “short timer” volunteers. Initially the plan was to see Victoria Falls, Chobe and Botswana but the prices proved prohibitive. Likewise a trip to Tanzania to see the game migration on the rift. (The cheaper option on the Kenya side is not currently a safe choice).
So, looking at the local newspapers and seeing things as a South African tourist, Egypt popped out as a great holiday and a lifetime dream. As Peace Corps we think in the present and reserved a package deal at the last minute. But what a deal! Air fare, two nights in Cairo, transfers from Cairo to Luxor, cruise on a barge on the Nile from Luxor to Aswan, the reverse and all the sights and tours in between! The cruise was most pleasurable with lovely views of the Nile riverbanks for 200 km and short guided stops to see the temples en route. The weather was Hot Hot but think of Las Vegas- very dry heat. The Valley of the Kings, Esna Lock, Edfu Temple, Aswan Dam, and Philae Temple were simple side trips from the boat which also had many pleasures including Whirling Dervishes and On board guides. Egypt is the opposite end of South Africa but a big allure in that there is little crime and cultural sights too numerous to mention. Fellucas with local fisherman, vendors throwing up Galabria (Eqyptian cotton gowns), green islands with stock grazing on the rich land, locals harvesting wheat with ancient sickles, horsedrawn carts with passengers, and lovely date palms and sand dunes were all part of the everchanging scenery.
Tonight we are back in our home in South Africa where Fall has arrived and frost was on the ground this morning. The Drakensburg Mountains are covered in a solid Seven Minute Frosting of Snow and the shadows are long, even with the sun blazing during the day. Last night as we arrived back at our home, we were thrilled to see the brilliant stars in the sky without cloud cover or any mist that the summer brings. The stars still seem foreign to us but the Milky Way reminds us of home. No water, hot water to greet us and the Load Shedding is back today but the patients were all smiles this morning and a pleasure to assist as we tried beading with red and silver beads and renewed strength for the weeks ahead.
The Bond’s have been traveling to the far north of Africa to use up the last week of leave allotted by the Peace Corps – a trip to Egypt and a cruise down the Nile. Ironically this “Luxury” vacation was affordable by US standards and not the first choice of two “short timer” volunteers. Initially the plan was to see Victoria Falls, Chobe and Botswana but the prices proved prohibitive. Likewise a trip to Tanzania to see the game migration on the rift. (The cheaper option on the Kenya side is not currently a safe choice).
So, looking at the local newspapers and seeing things as a South African tourist, Egypt popped out as a great holiday and a lifetime dream. As Peace Corps we think in the present and reserved a package deal at the last minute. But what a deal! Air fare, two nights in Cairo, transfers from Cairo to Luxor, cruise on a barge on the Nile from Luxor to Aswan, the reverse and all the sights and tours in between! The cruise was most pleasurable with lovely views of the Nile riverbanks for 200 km and short guided stops to see the temples en route. The weather was Hot Hot but think of Las Vegas- very dry heat. The Valley of the Kings, Esna Lock, Edfu Temple, Aswan Dam, and Philae Temple were simple side trips from the boat which also had many pleasures including Whirling Dervishes and On board guides. Egypt is the opposite end of South Africa but a big allure in that there is little crime and cultural sights too numerous to mention. Fellucas with local fisherman, vendors throwing up Galabria (Eqyptian cotton gowns), green islands with stock grazing on the rich land, locals harvesting wheat with ancient sickles, horsedrawn carts with passengers, and lovely date palms and sand dunes were all part of the everchanging scenery.
Tonight we are back in our home in South Africa where Fall has arrived and frost was on the ground this morning. The Drakensburg Mountains are covered in a solid Seven Minute Frosting of Snow and the shadows are long, even with the sun blazing during the day. Last night as we arrived back at our home, we were thrilled to see the brilliant stars in the sky without cloud cover or any mist that the summer brings. The stars still seem foreign to us but the Milky Way reminds us of home. No water, hot water to greet us and the Load Shedding is back today but the patients were all smiles this morning and a pleasure to assist as we tried beading with red and silver beads and renewed strength for the weeks ahead.
Sunday, April 13, 2008
Stone Hearts
We have spent the last two weeks high in the mountains of Kwa Zulu Natal at our home in an AIDS hospital, doing work that is needed. Brendon was named the Operations Manager his first day on the job in Sept. 2006. I was posted in the Business office to upgrade administrative procedures and subsequently started the Occupational Therapy Program (Jabule “Happy” Time) for the patients. The work has expanded into new avenues with computer training for staff taking up many hours.
The grant money from the US for purchasing sewing and beading materials has been spent so finding interesting and fun activities for patient’s recreation and handwork has become more challenging. In addition we have been feeling spent, losing enthusiasm and looking forward to going home. An incident a few weeks ago with the disappearance of some money in the office left my heart cold and my bearing brittle toward my coworkers. Is this what I want the hospital staff to remember about me? Theft and crime are very common occurrences here and nothing (no thing) is irreplaceable. Thus “Get over it” has to happen and one needs to be more careful about one’s belongings. My initial reaction, however, was “how do they have the nerve to take from someone who has left their comfortable life in America to help them?” This feeling was arrogance/ pride on my part
and not in the spirit of the Peace Corps or service. In addition, I have become more watchful and careful about distributing the beads and fabric, allocating the daily projects in a very miserly manner to make the materials last. I have to say no to requests for extra beads, and sometimes the “NO” is not in the most courteous manner. A nurse’s aide came into the sewing group this week and asked if I was “Cross” and I cringed that this might be the expectation as materials are depleted and my heart is growing harder.
Today in church the prayer asked God for a “Heart of Flesh” instead of a “Heart of Stone” and a “New Spirit”. So, this is my desire that as we finish our work at Mountain High - we will have softness and kindness instead of coldness and calculation; humility instead of pride. As I cut out the 500th skirt of this 2 year experience, pour out the beads for the Zulu border stitch, set up prizes for the bingo tournament, and attempt to demonstrate American cooking on a hot plate in the Chapel with limited ingredients, I will relish this unique opportunity and convey some of the goodness of the people of America. The Peace Corps tour of duty lasts 2 years for that reason; citizens of developing nations will come to understand America and Americans. Americans are people, warts and all. They sometimes care about the poor, sick, and forgotten peoples of the world but they are imperfect human beings.
We were invited to the home of the director of an NGO last night where we heard about the suffering of all the groups that call South Africa home and the horrendous violent crime that citizens endure on a regular basis. Her concern was that Americans are quick to make snap judgments without understanding the courage it takes to live in this country on a daily basis. Again, our need is for soft hearts and new spirits!
The grant money from the US for purchasing sewing and beading materials has been spent so finding interesting and fun activities for patient’s recreation and handwork has become more challenging. In addition we have been feeling spent, losing enthusiasm and looking forward to going home. An incident a few weeks ago with the disappearance of some money in the office left my heart cold and my bearing brittle toward my coworkers. Is this what I want the hospital staff to remember about me? Theft and crime are very common occurrences here and nothing (no thing) is irreplaceable. Thus “Get over it” has to happen and one needs to be more careful about one’s belongings. My initial reaction, however, was “how do they have the nerve to take from someone who has left their comfortable life in America to help them?” This feeling was arrogance/ pride on my part
and not in the spirit of the Peace Corps or service. In addition, I have become more watchful and careful about distributing the beads and fabric, allocating the daily projects in a very miserly manner to make the materials last. I have to say no to requests for extra beads, and sometimes the “NO” is not in the most courteous manner. A nurse’s aide came into the sewing group this week and asked if I was “Cross” and I cringed that this might be the expectation as materials are depleted and my heart is growing harder.
Today in church the prayer asked God for a “Heart of Flesh” instead of a “Heart of Stone” and a “New Spirit”. So, this is my desire that as we finish our work at Mountain High - we will have softness and kindness instead of coldness and calculation; humility instead of pride. As I cut out the 500th skirt of this 2 year experience, pour out the beads for the Zulu border stitch, set up prizes for the bingo tournament, and attempt to demonstrate American cooking on a hot plate in the Chapel with limited ingredients, I will relish this unique opportunity and convey some of the goodness of the people of America. The Peace Corps tour of duty lasts 2 years for that reason; citizens of developing nations will come to understand America and Americans. Americans are people, warts and all. They sometimes care about the poor, sick, and forgotten peoples of the world but they are imperfect human beings.
We were invited to the home of the director of an NGO last night where we heard about the suffering of all the groups that call South Africa home and the horrendous violent crime that citizens endure on a regular basis. Her concern was that Americans are quick to make snap judgments without understanding the courage it takes to live in this country on a daily basis. Again, our need is for soft hearts and new spirits!
Sunday, April 06, 2008
South African Sharp Sharp
“Howzit, Love” (How are you, friend)? “Just now” (in the immediate future) your “mate” (friend) in South Africa will be going “overseas” (abroad, any country out of SA) after this “nice” (pleasant, delicious, good, expensive, or any other positive expletive) time earning no “bucks” (rand) as a Peace Corps Volunteer in Zululand. We lived in a very "homely" (homey, comfortable) flat (small studio apt). Please “Now, Now” (Immediately) “Borrow me a Pen” (Loan me a Pen) so I can write about this “Lekker” (sweet, wonderful, fun, enjoyable) experience. If I make a mistake I will need a “Rubber” (eraser) to correct the error. “Is It” (Really) are the Bond’s returning to the US? “Shame” (Too bad, what a pity) as they are finally learning to speak English in South Africa. They sure enjoyed the “lekker” “Amasweetie” (candy), “Tea Time” (coffee breaks) and “Biltong” (jerky). “Transport”(transportation), “Robots” (traffic lights) and “Kumbis” (public vans) were more of a challenge with constant increases in the price of “petrol” (gas) but one can always “SMS” (instant message) on a cell phone to “Fetch Me” (please pick me up). If you lived here, one should purchase a “Bakke” (small pick up truck) as they can handle the rough roads better than passenger “motor vehicles” (cars). “Provisions” (food) were hard to come by but every community has a “Tuck Shop” (small convenience store) where Simba chips can be found. The “Festive Season” (Christmas holidays) was very enjoyable but the time for a “Swimming Costume” (bathing suit or trunks) and “tekkies” (running shoes) instead of warm holiday attire and scarves. Anytime, anywhere under any circumstances a “Braai” (barbeque) with “mutton” (lamb) “wors” (sausage) is always welcome and in fact “Braai Day” is a national holiday! When all is well then “Chop Chop”. (Things are “Right”.) If circumstances warrant outspoken complaint, you “Must” (should, might) “Toy Toy” (protest).
So after almost two years the Bond’s have learned that they have a strong, sometime unintelligible American Accent and that they do not know English. Of course it would be better if they learned Zulu in order to serve the AIDS patients and staff at Mountain High Hospital. Hats off to all South Africans who can speak at least three languages and sometimes four or five!
So after almost two years the Bond’s have learned that they have a strong, sometime unintelligible American Accent and that they do not know English. Of course it would be better if they learned Zulu in order to serve the AIDS patients and staff at Mountain High Hospital. Hats off to all South Africans who can speak at least three languages and sometimes four or five!
Wednesday, April 02, 2008
Creature Comforts
Our return to Mountain High Hospital after Easter break brought home two important lessons that all Peace Corps Volunteers must learn; Never get in the shower without looking in all four corners. Lesson two; Always inspect the contents of your toilet before plopping yourself down and letting it happen.
We returned to our South African home at Mountain High Hospital after touring the back roads and small towns of the Cape. I missed the patients, our comfortable cozy flat and the beauty of this mountain site. However, after a week of living with power, water (even hot water) and a rental car it is hard to go back to the challenges of life in rural Africa. Interestingly enough, the discomforts vary from day to day and hour to hour so one is always surprised. We opened the door to our flat and found water and electricity; so far so good. The food in the refrigerator had not rotted and the hot water poured out of the tap like a geyser. I lifted up the toilet lid and shrieked at the first surprise- Mr. Toad was swimming in the toilet bowl with arms flaying and legs hyper extended. I quickly shoved the lid down and called for my US Army Artillery trained husband to take action. His fighting words were “just flush”. The pour soul was flushed back to his home in the pipes that run down the hillside.
We take showers at night because the tap is dry in the mornings and hot water is a scarce as a fast food restaurant in this neck of the woods. The shower is situated in our small kitchen with limited lighting. I stepped in, sorely in need of ablution (a South African word for all bathing and washing activities). A toad jumped up at me from the dark corners of the shower. I screamed and called for my sweet husband to come with our special toad hunting net. South African toilets are shrouded in lace and frou frou which makes for the perfect toad catcher. He found the lace netting decorated with maroon ribbons and grabbed that toad with an amazing expertise. (of course last year toad season yielded approximately 20 hits in our flat with none in our bed, fortunately). With immense gratitude toward the husband of the year, I bravely traipsed back into the shower getting ready for warm water and the comfort of a clean body after a long journey home. EEK, the father toad leaped out at me from the dark corner of the shower! I screamed and my faithful husband returned with our lacy toad catcher, ran to the door of our flat and threw him out into the night with his progeny. So has toad season started? Peace Corps manuals do not explain the true seasons of the year or cycles of experience. However, we are more experienced at dealing with surprises from nature, although old people do not appreciate being surprised, especially after the first cute toad is spotted. The other side of the mountain experience is that there is utter quiet at night, the beautiful birds are returning to devour the guava and pear trees, and the patients are so happy to see us. This is a special place that I am sure we will miss when we return home.
We returned to our South African home at Mountain High Hospital after touring the back roads and small towns of the Cape. I missed the patients, our comfortable cozy flat and the beauty of this mountain site. However, after a week of living with power, water (even hot water) and a rental car it is hard to go back to the challenges of life in rural Africa. Interestingly enough, the discomforts vary from day to day and hour to hour so one is always surprised. We opened the door to our flat and found water and electricity; so far so good. The food in the refrigerator had not rotted and the hot water poured out of the tap like a geyser. I lifted up the toilet lid and shrieked at the first surprise- Mr. Toad was swimming in the toilet bowl with arms flaying and legs hyper extended. I quickly shoved the lid down and called for my US Army Artillery trained husband to take action. His fighting words were “just flush”. The pour soul was flushed back to his home in the pipes that run down the hillside.
We take showers at night because the tap is dry in the mornings and hot water is a scarce as a fast food restaurant in this neck of the woods. The shower is situated in our small kitchen with limited lighting. I stepped in, sorely in need of ablution (a South African word for all bathing and washing activities). A toad jumped up at me from the dark corners of the shower. I screamed and called for my sweet husband to come with our special toad hunting net. South African toilets are shrouded in lace and frou frou which makes for the perfect toad catcher. He found the lace netting decorated with maroon ribbons and grabbed that toad with an amazing expertise. (of course last year toad season yielded approximately 20 hits in our flat with none in our bed, fortunately). With immense gratitude toward the husband of the year, I bravely traipsed back into the shower getting ready for warm water and the comfort of a clean body after a long journey home. EEK, the father toad leaped out at me from the dark corner of the shower! I screamed and my faithful husband returned with our lacy toad catcher, ran to the door of our flat and threw him out into the night with his progeny. So has toad season started? Peace Corps manuals do not explain the true seasons of the year or cycles of experience. However, we are more experienced at dealing with surprises from nature, although old people do not appreciate being surprised, especially after the first cute toad is spotted. The other side of the mountain experience is that there is utter quiet at night, the beautiful birds are returning to devour the guava and pear trees, and the patients are so happy to see us. This is a special place that I am sure we will miss when we return home.
Monday, March 31, 2008
Klein Karoo
Sorry for the long delay in blogging but the Bond’s took advantage of the long Easter weekend to explore the Klein Karoo, South Africa’s version of Route 66, and the garden route of the Cape.
Just before we left for the Cape, Mountain High Hospital coordinated an AIDS education day for the adjoining high school. Planning this event was an act of faith on everyone’s part as the high school is run by the government school district and the hospital is directed by a private religious NGO. However, since our arrival we have heard that there was a need for the high school students to be presented with accurate information about HIV, testing, prevention, STD’s and health education in general. Unfortunately, the high school students go home in Nov. for their summer break and miss the AIDS Awareness event held each Dec. Our job as Peace Corps volunteers was to act as the go-between between the school officials and the nursing staff to make the event happen. Would the nurses be available to give the pitch and answer questions from the students? Would the school officials and teachers support the event and create time for the messages? Would the students be interested in the information and come forward with their issues and questions? The Answer is Yes Yes Yes to all concerns. In spite of the rain and some logistic issues (the girl’s dining room was also hosting a teachers training conference) the nurses showed up and had a powerful punch. They told the students that there generation could be doomed by 2020 if the students did not take steps to stay AIDS free for life. The nurses gave out factual information about prevention, testing and positive living, if one tests positive and the availability of ARVs. The students were given cards for anonymous health questions and to our surprise, most of the 120 learners submitted questions, which took most of the afternoon to answer. Surprisingly, none were prank questions. The students are intimately affected by the AIDS epidemic as many have had a close relative die. The reality is as close as the tombstone dealer in the shopping malls in town and the billboards proclaiming that “Prevention is Better than (NO) Cure.”
With this great experience in mind, we headed off for the Cape to celebrate Easter, along with most of South Africans who travel to Durban or the Cape for the holiday. Our first destination was Knysna (pronounced Nice na), a beautiful spot on the Indian Ocean that reminded me of Tiburon in the SF Bay Area. It even has a suburb of Belvedere, with a beautiful old stone church, gardens and graveyard. Knysna has a lagoon and headlands available for hiking and viewing the wild surf below. Further down the road we ran into Tsitikamma National Park with even more rugged coast, indigenous forests and surf, looking like Big Sur. The area is loaded with hiking trails to the view points above and first world comforts like movie theatres, interesting shopping, and restaurants. After a few days of “Marin County” South African Style we were ready for more adventure so we headed out to the Klein Karoo, the high desert of South Africa. The mountain pass from coast to the high desert did not disappoint as it round the craggy cliffs with view of the sea and the deep valleys and gorges of the mountains surrounding the coast. One has to give the voortrekkers credit for finding these passes and pushing their own personal limits to reach the new lands beyond the coast. Capetown is surrounded by craggy cliffs in all directions which appear insurmountable. Wagons had to be dismantled and contents hand carried over the steep cliffs to reach the grazing lands on the other side. When the highways were finally built over the mountains, the British engineers built the passes for elegance and great viewing so they are a true pleasure to drive.
After climbing the steep pass up from George through the four pass area and gawking at the fantastic views we arrived in the Klein Karoo, the small high desert area east of Cape Town. This area is famous for ostrich farms, dry desert air and plenty of open space. Oudtshoorn, the biggest town, was having an Arts festival which sounded great to Peace Corps folks from the deep bush but alas, most of the events were in Afrikaans, a language we have not been able to learn. This festival goes on for 10 days with a huge attendance for the drama, popular music, dance and fine arts. After enjoying some Afrikaans light rock we headed out on Route 62, feeling like our grandparents when they went west on Route 66. Sorry, no teepee motels but plenty of quaint small towns and desert landscape with gorgeous red rock formations, scrub, and magnificent mountains on all sides. Truly a wonderful drive and another insight into the amazing sights of South Africa.
Just before we left for the Cape, Mountain High Hospital coordinated an AIDS education day for the adjoining high school. Planning this event was an act of faith on everyone’s part as the high school is run by the government school district and the hospital is directed by a private religious NGO. However, since our arrival we have heard that there was a need for the high school students to be presented with accurate information about HIV, testing, prevention, STD’s and health education in general. Unfortunately, the high school students go home in Nov. for their summer break and miss the AIDS Awareness event held each Dec. Our job as Peace Corps volunteers was to act as the go-between between the school officials and the nursing staff to make the event happen. Would the nurses be available to give the pitch and answer questions from the students? Would the school officials and teachers support the event and create time for the messages? Would the students be interested in the information and come forward with their issues and questions? The Answer is Yes Yes Yes to all concerns. In spite of the rain and some logistic issues (the girl’s dining room was also hosting a teachers training conference) the nurses showed up and had a powerful punch. They told the students that there generation could be doomed by 2020 if the students did not take steps to stay AIDS free for life. The nurses gave out factual information about prevention, testing and positive living, if one tests positive and the availability of ARVs. The students were given cards for anonymous health questions and to our surprise, most of the 120 learners submitted questions, which took most of the afternoon to answer. Surprisingly, none were prank questions. The students are intimately affected by the AIDS epidemic as many have had a close relative die. The reality is as close as the tombstone dealer in the shopping malls in town and the billboards proclaiming that “Prevention is Better than (NO) Cure.”
With this great experience in mind, we headed off for the Cape to celebrate Easter, along with most of South Africans who travel to Durban or the Cape for the holiday. Our first destination was Knysna (pronounced Nice na), a beautiful spot on the Indian Ocean that reminded me of Tiburon in the SF Bay Area. It even has a suburb of Belvedere, with a beautiful old stone church, gardens and graveyard. Knysna has a lagoon and headlands available for hiking and viewing the wild surf below. Further down the road we ran into Tsitikamma National Park with even more rugged coast, indigenous forests and surf, looking like Big Sur. The area is loaded with hiking trails to the view points above and first world comforts like movie theatres, interesting shopping, and restaurants. After a few days of “Marin County” South African Style we were ready for more adventure so we headed out to the Klein Karoo, the high desert of South Africa. The mountain pass from coast to the high desert did not disappoint as it round the craggy cliffs with view of the sea and the deep valleys and gorges of the mountains surrounding the coast. One has to give the voortrekkers credit for finding these passes and pushing their own personal limits to reach the new lands beyond the coast. Capetown is surrounded by craggy cliffs in all directions which appear insurmountable. Wagons had to be dismantled and contents hand carried over the steep cliffs to reach the grazing lands on the other side. When the highways were finally built over the mountains, the British engineers built the passes for elegance and great viewing so they are a true pleasure to drive.
After climbing the steep pass up from George through the four pass area and gawking at the fantastic views we arrived in the Klein Karoo, the small high desert area east of Cape Town. This area is famous for ostrich farms, dry desert air and plenty of open space. Oudtshoorn, the biggest town, was having an Arts festival which sounded great to Peace Corps folks from the deep bush but alas, most of the events were in Afrikaans, a language we have not been able to learn. This festival goes on for 10 days with a huge attendance for the drama, popular music, dance and fine arts. After enjoying some Afrikaans light rock we headed out on Route 62, feeling like our grandparents when they went west on Route 66. Sorry, no teepee motels but plenty of quaint small towns and desert landscape with gorgeous red rock formations, scrub, and magnificent mountains on all sides. Truly a wonderful drive and another insight into the amazing sights of South Africa.
Sunday, March 16, 2008
Poverty and Pension Day
The reality that this is the final stretch of our Peace Corps service hit home this week as we hurried up to complete projects and leave mechanisms in place for sustainability of the occupational therapy program, staff computer training, and new business processes. The money from the Peace Corps grant to purchase beads, sewing materials, and shoemaking supplies for AIDS patient’s handwork is almost depleted. Monday was Pension Day at the small tuck shop in the forest so I hauled my fleece hats, scarves, two chairs and the volunteer coordinator to the site. (A prior attempt to sell hats to the retirees and disabled was a dismal failure with a huge rainstorm, obnoxious drunks and shoplifters gleefully absconding with the hats.) This time the weather was not ideal for selling soft fleece as it was very sunny and warm, but 11 customers came forward to buy the children’s models. (No thefts due to the vigilance of the volunteer helper).
Pension Day is an amazing spectacle in a rural area where one usually sees only small groups of people in their kraals or walking down the road. The grannies and welfare beneficiaries gather once a month under a tree or community center to receive their small pensions in cash. The money is delivered in two armored trucks followed by the clerks that make the distributions. The money train has a specific route to follow for the day, but the exact time of distribution is unknown. Thus the crowd gathers early in the day and waits for the magical money entourage to arrive. The beneficiaries attract a hoard of hawkers with live chickens, cold drinks, mangoes, plums, sheaves of snuff, muti (traditional medicine), brooms, linens, cheap watches, and fleece hats. We set up our chairs in the shade in front of the tuck shop but were asked to move to the side of the shop by the owner. I spotted an open spot by the water tank which was a great location on the sunny day as the crowd opened the spigot for a drink of water and were accosted by a middle aged lady selling hats for AIDS patients, children’s sizes only 5 rand (75 cents). My major competition was the man across the road with a crate full of live white chickens which were the hit of pension day. He lifted the wiggling chickens from the crate into a small chicken coop. The customer selects his/her favorite from the coop and is handed the squawking beast to take home. The method is to take a piece or rope or plastic bag and tie the feet together, but alas many of the women are seen diving into the bushes to chase a chicken who has escaped from the stew pot. The mothers mill among the vendors with their babies rigged to their backs with a bath towel. Seldom does one hear a baby cry in South Africa; however keeping the baby in place is a constant struggle with mother juggling their load and tightening the towel in front. Mothers getting in the back of a crowded taxi have an especially difficult challenge to keep the baby from being dropped or crushed but they manage the difficult dance with grace and rhythm.
When the pension vehicle train arrives the gogos, mothers and disabled form a queue and the money is quickly distributed. The train hurriedly takes off for the next remote rural location. The women are reluctant to go home as they catch up on the gossip and see old friends. They sit on the ground in circles and pass around a quart of Castle beer or coca cola and are entertained by the roving hawkers. Grandsons arrive to hit up the gogos for cash and a treat. Direct deposit of social security checks certainly can’t compare with this community event.
The reality of poverty is evident even on pension day. The mothers cannot afford the 5 rand for a hat for their new baby but look longingly at the colorful soft hats with bears, antelopes and Zulu patterns. Our NGO headquarters made a small order for their uniform shop in Joburg; perhaps sales will be better in the city, especially when the weather turns cold. The sad reality is that it takes about R2000 ($250) a month to sustain the patient handcrafts program, R1600 for materials and R400 for the volunteer coordinator. Over 400 patients have participated in the program and have learned many new skills as well as having some activity each day. I worry that as soon as we leave in June the program will end- the worst fear of Peace Corps volunteers. However, it has been a great experience and many patients have benefitted. (not to mention a US matron who is now an accomplished Zulu beader). Prior to our arrival, patients were bored during their long 3 month stays in the hospital. Their families are distant. On Friday I sat next to a woman on the taxi who was traveling to see her bedridden sister at the Hospital. It took all morning and 4 taxi rides to get to the hospital. After a one hour visit she reversed the journey as there is nowhere for families to stay at Mountain High.
Rural poverty is evident even among the best and brightest in rural Zululand. Our Zulu teacher is now in 12th grade but cannot afford to board at the high school due to his grandmother having a stroke just before school started in Jan. He is the class president and charismatic student leader. But at 17 years, he stays in a hut near the high school, hauls his water for drinking, cooking and washing. He must obtain all of his food from town and cook it on a small gas flame. He has no electricity so does his homework by candlelight. On Sunday he comes to our flat to borrow an iron to beautifully press the yellow dress shirts required for high school in South Africa. He is paid a small amount to teach Zulu to the Americans (R40 per week) but that does not cover taxi fare to town to buy food or visit his family. He never complains and is upbeat about going to university next year. He is a stellar student and will not give up until every assignment is done well and he understands the concepts. Friday night he came to our flat as he had no food and wanted 2 cups of mealy meal to make his supper. He was surprised and disappointed to learn that the Americans had no mealy meal (corn meal, the basic staple of SA) in their cupboard-only Jungle oats, which were offered along with sausage, spinach and a peach. What sacrifice for a young man to endure in order to obtain the excellent education at the high school. Stories of struggling students in American cannot compare with the grinding poverty we have seen.
Pension Day is an amazing spectacle in a rural area where one usually sees only small groups of people in their kraals or walking down the road. The grannies and welfare beneficiaries gather once a month under a tree or community center to receive their small pensions in cash. The money is delivered in two armored trucks followed by the clerks that make the distributions. The money train has a specific route to follow for the day, but the exact time of distribution is unknown. Thus the crowd gathers early in the day and waits for the magical money entourage to arrive. The beneficiaries attract a hoard of hawkers with live chickens, cold drinks, mangoes, plums, sheaves of snuff, muti (traditional medicine), brooms, linens, cheap watches, and fleece hats. We set up our chairs in the shade in front of the tuck shop but were asked to move to the side of the shop by the owner. I spotted an open spot by the water tank which was a great location on the sunny day as the crowd opened the spigot for a drink of water and were accosted by a middle aged lady selling hats for AIDS patients, children’s sizes only 5 rand (75 cents). My major competition was the man across the road with a crate full of live white chickens which were the hit of pension day. He lifted the wiggling chickens from the crate into a small chicken coop. The customer selects his/her favorite from the coop and is handed the squawking beast to take home. The method is to take a piece or rope or plastic bag and tie the feet together, but alas many of the women are seen diving into the bushes to chase a chicken who has escaped from the stew pot. The mothers mill among the vendors with their babies rigged to their backs with a bath towel. Seldom does one hear a baby cry in South Africa; however keeping the baby in place is a constant struggle with mother juggling their load and tightening the towel in front. Mothers getting in the back of a crowded taxi have an especially difficult challenge to keep the baby from being dropped or crushed but they manage the difficult dance with grace and rhythm.
When the pension vehicle train arrives the gogos, mothers and disabled form a queue and the money is quickly distributed. The train hurriedly takes off for the next remote rural location. The women are reluctant to go home as they catch up on the gossip and see old friends. They sit on the ground in circles and pass around a quart of Castle beer or coca cola and are entertained by the roving hawkers. Grandsons arrive to hit up the gogos for cash and a treat. Direct deposit of social security checks certainly can’t compare with this community event.
The reality of poverty is evident even on pension day. The mothers cannot afford the 5 rand for a hat for their new baby but look longingly at the colorful soft hats with bears, antelopes and Zulu patterns. Our NGO headquarters made a small order for their uniform shop in Joburg; perhaps sales will be better in the city, especially when the weather turns cold. The sad reality is that it takes about R2000 ($250) a month to sustain the patient handcrafts program, R1600 for materials and R400 for the volunteer coordinator. Over 400 patients have participated in the program and have learned many new skills as well as having some activity each day. I worry that as soon as we leave in June the program will end- the worst fear of Peace Corps volunteers. However, it has been a great experience and many patients have benefitted. (not to mention a US matron who is now an accomplished Zulu beader). Prior to our arrival, patients were bored during their long 3 month stays in the hospital. Their families are distant. On Friday I sat next to a woman on the taxi who was traveling to see her bedridden sister at the Hospital. It took all morning and 4 taxi rides to get to the hospital. After a one hour visit she reversed the journey as there is nowhere for families to stay at Mountain High.
Rural poverty is evident even among the best and brightest in rural Zululand. Our Zulu teacher is now in 12th grade but cannot afford to board at the high school due to his grandmother having a stroke just before school started in Jan. He is the class president and charismatic student leader. But at 17 years, he stays in a hut near the high school, hauls his water for drinking, cooking and washing. He must obtain all of his food from town and cook it on a small gas flame. He has no electricity so does his homework by candlelight. On Sunday he comes to our flat to borrow an iron to beautifully press the yellow dress shirts required for high school in South Africa. He is paid a small amount to teach Zulu to the Americans (R40 per week) but that does not cover taxi fare to town to buy food or visit his family. He never complains and is upbeat about going to university next year. He is a stellar student and will not give up until every assignment is done well and he understands the concepts. Friday night he came to our flat as he had no food and wanted 2 cups of mealy meal to make his supper. He was surprised and disappointed to learn that the Americans had no mealy meal (corn meal, the basic staple of SA) in their cupboard-only Jungle oats, which were offered along with sausage, spinach and a peach. What sacrifice for a young man to endure in order to obtain the excellent education at the high school. Stories of struggling students in American cannot compare with the grinding poverty we have seen.
Saturday, March 15, 2008
Sunday, March 09, 2008
Unexpected Weekend in Vryheid
After a great trip touring Zululand last week with our US pals, we decided to stay at Mountain High Hospital for the weekend and catch up on our reading. (our replacement ATM cards from the US have not arrived and the Peace Corps stipend of $250 does not stretch very far). Easter plans include a trip to the Cape so we will be traveling again in a few weeks and were content to stay at our site.
However, the water woes continued at Mountain High. No water poured out of the taps every morning this week. As good Peace Corps Volunteers must do, we practiced patience and flexibility, changing our water usage (showers, dish washing, filling pots and pans with water, hand washing) to a short period in the evenings when the students in the high school are in study hall and the demand is lessened. Friday night arrived and we celebrated by making pizza. Alas shortly after taking the pizza out of the oven the taps ran dry. We had forgotten that there is no study hall on Friday night. The dishes from the day had piled up in the sink and our pitchers were depleted. All night the faucets were as dry as the bones in Ezekiel.
We got up at 5am on Saturday morning and found the same dry conditions so we changed our plans, packed up a few things and hurried to the only taxi that goes directly to town each Monday through Saturday. To our surprise we were the first passengers to arrive at the cement bench that serves as the taxi stand. The morning had a touch of fall in the air and the sunrise was shrouded in a pink mist. The days are growing shorter with sunrise at 6am, contrasting with the early sunrise of 430am during the height of summer. Life as a poor person in South Africa is a series of “Hurry Up and Wait” as an inordinate amount of time is spent waiting for the taxi to fill, waiting in the long lines at the bank (all bills are paid by deposits into the creditors bank account), and the long lines at the discount grocery stores with names like Boxer, Score and Shoprite. If one has electricity or a cell phone, queues are required to purchase pay as you go coupons that seem to run out very fast. Life is spent catching up. Most rural people do not have spares of household items or stockpiles of food in the larder. When they run out of food, light bulbs, toilet paper, propane, or kerosene, it is an all day trip to town to buy the necessary item. Substitutions are made during tough times – phone books and magazines work as toilet paper.
Many of the Mountain High residents are almost self sufficient, cutting down trees in the forest for firewood for cooking, growing mealies (corn), raising cattle and goats. They walk around with their long heavy knives swinging from their hands, which was a little menacing to Peace Corps volunteers at first. The women also cut down trees and use a turban on their heads to balance the heavy hard wood trunks, which must be hauled down the steep paths to their homes. Water is transported in plastic carboys balanced on their heads. Much of the day is spent fetching water, wood and livestock. The children of the local community are disadvantaged compared to the boarding students as have to 2 hour hikes each way on rough trails to get to school and then must tend cattle, haul water and wood when they get home. The quality of life would dramatically improve if rural residents had easy access to water and electricity. A large part of the day is spent in basic maintenance, rather than school work or leisure.
The Saturday morning ride to town is always an upbeat experience as the scenery is gorgeous and we are delighted to return to the first world for a break from the stresses and discomforts of the Hospital. We check in at Rita’s Guest House at 730 am and are greeted as family. There is no equivalent to Rita’s in the US as it is a 29 room guest house that is also the residence of the owner. She is a lively woman who loves to tell stories about the strange habits of her guests. The facility is also used for meetings and weddings- functions as they are called here in SA. The staff complains about weddings where the guests are boisterous and also about the weddings where no one drinks and the party is a bore. Rita is also a travel agent and knows every inch of SA, a country she deeply loves. She knows all of her guests by name and their favorite room, which are all individually decorated in Rita’s flouncy style. The lounge and halls are covered with African art, needlepoint, carved animals, Dutch kitsch and more. We spend hours sitting out in the beautiful garden and pool area planted with familiar and unfamiliar flowers and trees. Birds are also her guests-we are awakened each morning by the screeching Hadeda Ibis’s looking for grubs in the grass. All this for R380 ($50) a night, including breakfast.
Happy Birthday to my sister Lillian, who has been a faithful correspondant each week since we arrived. You are loved and appreciated. Thanks for your support.
However, the water woes continued at Mountain High. No water poured out of the taps every morning this week. As good Peace Corps Volunteers must do, we practiced patience and flexibility, changing our water usage (showers, dish washing, filling pots and pans with water, hand washing) to a short period in the evenings when the students in the high school are in study hall and the demand is lessened. Friday night arrived and we celebrated by making pizza. Alas shortly after taking the pizza out of the oven the taps ran dry. We had forgotten that there is no study hall on Friday night. The dishes from the day had piled up in the sink and our pitchers were depleted. All night the faucets were as dry as the bones in Ezekiel.
We got up at 5am on Saturday morning and found the same dry conditions so we changed our plans, packed up a few things and hurried to the only taxi that goes directly to town each Monday through Saturday. To our surprise we were the first passengers to arrive at the cement bench that serves as the taxi stand. The morning had a touch of fall in the air and the sunrise was shrouded in a pink mist. The days are growing shorter with sunrise at 6am, contrasting with the early sunrise of 430am during the height of summer. Life as a poor person in South Africa is a series of “Hurry Up and Wait” as an inordinate amount of time is spent waiting for the taxi to fill, waiting in the long lines at the bank (all bills are paid by deposits into the creditors bank account), and the long lines at the discount grocery stores with names like Boxer, Score and Shoprite. If one has electricity or a cell phone, queues are required to purchase pay as you go coupons that seem to run out very fast. Life is spent catching up. Most rural people do not have spares of household items or stockpiles of food in the larder. When they run out of food, light bulbs, toilet paper, propane, or kerosene, it is an all day trip to town to buy the necessary item. Substitutions are made during tough times – phone books and magazines work as toilet paper.
Many of the Mountain High residents are almost self sufficient, cutting down trees in the forest for firewood for cooking, growing mealies (corn), raising cattle and goats. They walk around with their long heavy knives swinging from their hands, which was a little menacing to Peace Corps volunteers at first. The women also cut down trees and use a turban on their heads to balance the heavy hard wood trunks, which must be hauled down the steep paths to their homes. Water is transported in plastic carboys balanced on their heads. Much of the day is spent fetching water, wood and livestock. The children of the local community are disadvantaged compared to the boarding students as have to 2 hour hikes each way on rough trails to get to school and then must tend cattle, haul water and wood when they get home. The quality of life would dramatically improve if rural residents had easy access to water and electricity. A large part of the day is spent in basic maintenance, rather than school work or leisure.
The Saturday morning ride to town is always an upbeat experience as the scenery is gorgeous and we are delighted to return to the first world for a break from the stresses and discomforts of the Hospital. We check in at Rita’s Guest House at 730 am and are greeted as family. There is no equivalent to Rita’s in the US as it is a 29 room guest house that is also the residence of the owner. She is a lively woman who loves to tell stories about the strange habits of her guests. The facility is also used for meetings and weddings- functions as they are called here in SA. The staff complains about weddings where the guests are boisterous and also about the weddings where no one drinks and the party is a bore. Rita is also a travel agent and knows every inch of SA, a country she deeply loves. She knows all of her guests by name and their favorite room, which are all individually decorated in Rita’s flouncy style. The lounge and halls are covered with African art, needlepoint, carved animals, Dutch kitsch and more. We spend hours sitting out in the beautiful garden and pool area planted with familiar and unfamiliar flowers and trees. Birds are also her guests-we are awakened each morning by the screeching Hadeda Ibis’s looking for grubs in the grass. All this for R380 ($50) a night, including breakfast.
Happy Birthday to my sister Lillian, who has been a faithful correspondant each week since we arrived. You are loved and appreciated. Thanks for your support.
Sunday, March 02, 2008
So Cal Pals Visit
Today is Brendon’s 60th birthday. The entire week was a stupendous celebration as we toured Zululand with our friends, Melinda and Ron, from Palos Verdes, CA. Happy Birthday to a wonderful husband and friend! This is one birthday we won’t forget. Today we are on the Greyhound bus returning to our Mountain High Hospital home and musing over the events of the week.
To get to South Africa our friends had an 11 hour flight from LAX to Frankfurt and another 11 hour flight to Johannesburg. From Jo burg they drove 5 hours through the farm regions of South Africa (Mpumalanga) to Kwa Zulu Natal where they met us in front of the beautiful stone church in the center of our town Vryheid. What a treat to see a familiar face and hear American English. We were so excited to see them and hear the news from home. We headed out to the nearby game lodge, Mpofini, and immediately set out on foot to see the game; zebras, giraffes, wart hogs darting in and out with their tails up leading their babies, impalas, nyalas and more. We stayed in a bush lodge camp which consisted of two bedrooms, a kitchen in-between and an outdoor barbeque area which served as a lounge/dining area. The fire was started, the party food laid out and the conversation verve began. I looked up at the open gateway in the stake fence and was alarmed to see a 6 ft ostrich walking in to join us for dinner. At first glimpse I thought it was an elephant so was relieved that it was only big bird. However ostriches have a nasty reputation for biting and kicking so the four us looked at each other and tried to develop a strategy for ostrich removal. Ron used his best predator down stare; I headed for the broom. While Ron locked eyes with the huge avian, I started yelling in my best Zulu and swinging the broom. The ostrich hesitated as we sensed that perhaps this bush camp was his home territory. Melinda couldn’t stop laughing at this ridiculous scene with Susan swinging her broom in Zulu and Ron in his finest bravado form. Finally after shrieking at him for several minutes he backed away and went off into the night. Score one for the California folk!
That night the California visitors heard drums and thought it might be over for the last remaining visitors at the game park. Unfortunately, the lodge is being converted to a hunting camp. Thus we were the last overnight guests in the rugged, yet beautiful, surroundings. By morning the world seemed safe and we headed off for a game drive to see the animals living their lives in a natural setting where competition and death are part of the everyday scene as well as love, child rearing, dominance, and play. The park is in a lovely bowl with acres of grassland and acacias forming a backdrop for the game. We drove over the saddle of the mountain to visit the hippos lounging in their pond and the large herd of ostrich. The guide was asked about the interloper from the previous evening and he retorted that the ostriches were harmless. We felt a little foolish for our alarm the night before but one look at the massive feet on the bird was enough to scare us into our defensive tactics.
After the game drive we headed to Vryheid where we toured all of the Zulu craft stores and muti (traditional medicine) shops. Melinda had an encounter with a rough spot on the sidewalk. What a good sport about a nasty fall. The local Afrikaans dentist was around the corner. He checked out her teeth and jaw, did an x-ray and wished her well, refusing any payment for services. Another act of kindness in South Africa!
Our visitors were interested in visiting our Peace Corps site, Mountain High Hospital, the patient activities program and the excellent Zulu high school that shares our site. I met Melinda as a student in her Shakespearian Comedies and Tragedies class at El Camino College. She offered her services to teach the sonnets to the Matric (senior) students at the high school and was a big hit with these highly motivated students. The universal themes of shame and despair were quickly understood by the 80 seniors and they enjoyed hearing rhyming meter. They read a Zulu poem in unison and sang the SA National anthem which brought tears to the eyes of the Peace Corps volunteers who will be going home soon. A great day and a pleasure for all!
The rest of the week was spent touring KZN game parks and visiting St. Lucia, a fantastic vacation plan for anyone wanting to tour malaria free areas of South Africa. The highlight of the game spotting occurred when least expected. As we drove into Hluhluwe Game Park, (the oldest national park in SA and King Shaka’s hunting grounds) we spotted an animal with a white tail in the middle of the road ahead. We slowly caught up to the animal and couldn’t believe our eyes- a beautiful Leopard walking calmly down the middle of the paved road that leads to Hilltop Bush Camp. We followed the leopard for a kilometer until the rosettes finally darted into the bush. The leopard turned his head and looked back at us; were we lunch? Predators have a stateliness and focus of mission about them that is unmistakable. The face had a sweetness and tenderness to it, but the movement of the body spoke force and command.
After a week of great conversation and fun, it is time to get back to work. Thanks, Ron and Melinda for a great adventure!
To get to South Africa our friends had an 11 hour flight from LAX to Frankfurt and another 11 hour flight to Johannesburg. From Jo burg they drove 5 hours through the farm regions of South Africa (Mpumalanga) to Kwa Zulu Natal where they met us in front of the beautiful stone church in the center of our town Vryheid. What a treat to see a familiar face and hear American English. We were so excited to see them and hear the news from home. We headed out to the nearby game lodge, Mpofini, and immediately set out on foot to see the game; zebras, giraffes, wart hogs darting in and out with their tails up leading their babies, impalas, nyalas and more. We stayed in a bush lodge camp which consisted of two bedrooms, a kitchen in-between and an outdoor barbeque area which served as a lounge/dining area. The fire was started, the party food laid out and the conversation verve began. I looked up at the open gateway in the stake fence and was alarmed to see a 6 ft ostrich walking in to join us for dinner. At first glimpse I thought it was an elephant so was relieved that it was only big bird. However ostriches have a nasty reputation for biting and kicking so the four us looked at each other and tried to develop a strategy for ostrich removal. Ron used his best predator down stare; I headed for the broom. While Ron locked eyes with the huge avian, I started yelling in my best Zulu and swinging the broom. The ostrich hesitated as we sensed that perhaps this bush camp was his home territory. Melinda couldn’t stop laughing at this ridiculous scene with Susan swinging her broom in Zulu and Ron in his finest bravado form. Finally after shrieking at him for several minutes he backed away and went off into the night. Score one for the California folk!
That night the California visitors heard drums and thought it might be over for the last remaining visitors at the game park. Unfortunately, the lodge is being converted to a hunting camp. Thus we were the last overnight guests in the rugged, yet beautiful, surroundings. By morning the world seemed safe and we headed off for a game drive to see the animals living their lives in a natural setting where competition and death are part of the everyday scene as well as love, child rearing, dominance, and play. The park is in a lovely bowl with acres of grassland and acacias forming a backdrop for the game. We drove over the saddle of the mountain to visit the hippos lounging in their pond and the large herd of ostrich. The guide was asked about the interloper from the previous evening and he retorted that the ostriches were harmless. We felt a little foolish for our alarm the night before but one look at the massive feet on the bird was enough to scare us into our defensive tactics.
After the game drive we headed to Vryheid where we toured all of the Zulu craft stores and muti (traditional medicine) shops. Melinda had an encounter with a rough spot on the sidewalk. What a good sport about a nasty fall. The local Afrikaans dentist was around the corner. He checked out her teeth and jaw, did an x-ray and wished her well, refusing any payment for services. Another act of kindness in South Africa!
Our visitors were interested in visiting our Peace Corps site, Mountain High Hospital, the patient activities program and the excellent Zulu high school that shares our site. I met Melinda as a student in her Shakespearian Comedies and Tragedies class at El Camino College. She offered her services to teach the sonnets to the Matric (senior) students at the high school and was a big hit with these highly motivated students. The universal themes of shame and despair were quickly understood by the 80 seniors and they enjoyed hearing rhyming meter. They read a Zulu poem in unison and sang the SA National anthem which brought tears to the eyes of the Peace Corps volunteers who will be going home soon. A great day and a pleasure for all!
The rest of the week was spent touring KZN game parks and visiting St. Lucia, a fantastic vacation plan for anyone wanting to tour malaria free areas of South Africa. The highlight of the game spotting occurred when least expected. As we drove into Hluhluwe Game Park, (the oldest national park in SA and King Shaka’s hunting grounds) we spotted an animal with a white tail in the middle of the road ahead. We slowly caught up to the animal and couldn’t believe our eyes- a beautiful Leopard walking calmly down the middle of the paved road that leads to Hilltop Bush Camp. We followed the leopard for a kilometer until the rosettes finally darted into the bush. The leopard turned his head and looked back at us; were we lunch? Predators have a stateliness and focus of mission about them that is unmistakable. The face had a sweetness and tenderness to it, but the movement of the body spoke force and command.
After a week of great conversation and fun, it is time to get back to work. Thanks, Ron and Melinda for a great adventure!
Sunday, February 24, 2008
Kindness in South Africa
This week restored my faith in humanity and South Africa. After returning to Mountain High Hospital last Sunday afternoon from a weekend in our shopping town, Brendon noticed that his wallet was missing. Mentally we retraced our steps from lunch, to the back row of the taxi where we were squashed with four passengers for the ride up the mountain, to our flat, and finally out back for a haircut. The last sighting was at the restaurant. Monday, Brendon called the small restaurant and inquired about the wallet but none had been found. Dismay set in as the wallet contained his California driver’s license and credit cards, plus a small amount of rand. (We learned after the Thanksgiving mugging to never carry around much money). Ugh! No more driving in South Africa as it would be impossible to get a replacement without returning to California. Driving is dangerous in South Africa but a true pleasure and a necessity if one wants to visit the national parks or see the fabulous African terrain, flora and fauna. The Peace Corps allows volunteers to rent cars when they are on leave. (The Bonds are not ones to stay at home when Vic Falls, Botswana, Namibia, and the Cape beckon). Thus far I have been afraid to drive on the left and worried that I cannot undo 40 years of “Stay Right”. A further complication occurred on the weekend when we went to the ATM to withdraw some US funds and discovered that our ATM cards had expired in January.
By Monday afternoon, I had resolved to learn to drive on the left for our next leave at Easter to the Cape, Hermanus and Stellenbosch. Our Zulu teacher arrived for our language lesson and we told him about our troubles over the weekend. We theorized that the wallet may have fallen out of Brendon’s back pocket in the crowded taxi. I asked Gobese if there was a Lost and Found at the Taxi Rank. He answered that there was no formal Lost and Found but he would call his friend who worked with the Rank Manager. He placed the call and a few minutes later his friend called back saying that a wallet had been turned in on Sunday. Hope for the Bond’s! Tuesday afternoon, Gogese arrived at our flat and asked if we had found the wallet. We answered, No, but we were still hopeful. He then pulled the black leather wallet out of his pocket with a big smile on his face. His friend rode the taxi all of the way up the mountain to deliver the wallet to Gobese at school that day. What a Miracle! Brendon and I were so thrilled that the Zulus would make such an effort for this act of kindness and honesty. I was ecstatic and felt blessed by this uplifting incident. (Plus I believe the South African roads will be much safer with Brendon driving.)
Blessings continued this week as we traveled to Amangwe Village, a Peace Corps site near the coast, to teach beading as part of their community development program. Amangwe Village was a former Mondi lumber company residential town that was converted to a center for teaching job skills and Zulu economic empowerment. Thanks to Alycia for inviting us and giving us the opportunity to see an effective NGO program in a beautiful tropical setting. My goal was to teach all five Zulu beading stitches during the three 4 hour sessions. The first session was 20 hospital patients from the next door hospital who were eager to learn their own culture. The next day included two sessions with 40 child care and home health workers who came to the village to learn organic gardening skills. These two groups were highly motivated and almost mastered four of the five stitches. I tried to give them a break midway through the training session, but they called out “We’re busy” and have no time to sing or drink tea. It was so fun to teach patients who were healthy and could push themselves to learn and perfect the techniques. They chatted, laughed and gossiped in their small circles, enjoying the experience of creating something beautiful from a few pieces of glass. I felt blessed that I could give them something of their own culture as they have the colorful patterns and art forms in their minds, but have never been taught the stitches. This could be another career path for Susan Bond when she returns home- Zulu Beading Teacher Extraordinaire! Life holds many surprises-What’s Ahead?
By Monday afternoon, I had resolved to learn to drive on the left for our next leave at Easter to the Cape, Hermanus and Stellenbosch. Our Zulu teacher arrived for our language lesson and we told him about our troubles over the weekend. We theorized that the wallet may have fallen out of Brendon’s back pocket in the crowded taxi. I asked Gobese if there was a Lost and Found at the Taxi Rank. He answered that there was no formal Lost and Found but he would call his friend who worked with the Rank Manager. He placed the call and a few minutes later his friend called back saying that a wallet had been turned in on Sunday. Hope for the Bond’s! Tuesday afternoon, Gogese arrived at our flat and asked if we had found the wallet. We answered, No, but we were still hopeful. He then pulled the black leather wallet out of his pocket with a big smile on his face. His friend rode the taxi all of the way up the mountain to deliver the wallet to Gobese at school that day. What a Miracle! Brendon and I were so thrilled that the Zulus would make such an effort for this act of kindness and honesty. I was ecstatic and felt blessed by this uplifting incident. (Plus I believe the South African roads will be much safer with Brendon driving.)
Blessings continued this week as we traveled to Amangwe Village, a Peace Corps site near the coast, to teach beading as part of their community development program. Amangwe Village was a former Mondi lumber company residential town that was converted to a center for teaching job skills and Zulu economic empowerment. Thanks to Alycia for inviting us and giving us the opportunity to see an effective NGO program in a beautiful tropical setting. My goal was to teach all five Zulu beading stitches during the three 4 hour sessions. The first session was 20 hospital patients from the next door hospital who were eager to learn their own culture. The next day included two sessions with 40 child care and home health workers who came to the village to learn organic gardening skills. These two groups were highly motivated and almost mastered four of the five stitches. I tried to give them a break midway through the training session, but they called out “We’re busy” and have no time to sing or drink tea. It was so fun to teach patients who were healthy and could push themselves to learn and perfect the techniques. They chatted, laughed and gossiped in their small circles, enjoying the experience of creating something beautiful from a few pieces of glass. I felt blessed that I could give them something of their own culture as they have the colorful patterns and art forms in their minds, but have never been taught the stitches. This could be another career path for Susan Bond when she returns home- Zulu Beading Teacher Extraordinaire! Life holds many surprises-What’s Ahead?
Saturday, February 23, 2008
Sunday, February 17, 2008
Water Blues
It’s South Africa and “SEVEN TIMES” seems to be a rule of life- Seven Rand to the Dollar; a job takes seven times the time and money originally estimated; meetings are seven times as long as those conducted in the US with seven times the speeches; there are seven meals in a day; and any decision takes seven times the discussion with seven times the number of people consulted. This week the rule of Seven sent me to the brink of total frustration, which was then countered with acceptance and the Serenity Prayer: God help me to change what I can change, help me to accept what I cannot change and give me the wisdom to know the difference.
Last week’s blog described the water shortages and the surprise visit by the Zululand Water Engineer who promised to send a tanker truck with treated water as a clean backup supply for the AIDS patients. He requested that the rain water in the 7 auxiliary tanks be cleaned out for the new supply and promised to provide the truck the same day. The truck did not arrive that day or the next, or the next, etc. However, Tuesday night, seven days later, I passed the tanker truck while jogging on the dirt road into the Hospital. I was incredulous that a filled tanker would attempt the trip at 6pm. I stopped the truck and told the driver that the Hospital had seven tanks that needed clean treated water, especially the one directly behind the wards. (When the taps in the Hospital are dry the nurses must haul basins of water from the auxiliary tanks on the Hospital grounds to the patients in the wards. AIDS patients are especially susceptible to water born infections such as cholera, giardia and cyclospora).
After my jog, I returned to the Hospital and could not find the Tanker Truck. When queried, the security guard motioned in the direction of the high school. I sighed and ran over to the high school in time to see the water overflowing from the top of their single auxiliary tank unto the bare red dirt. I yelled “Mana” (Stop)!!! The driver stated that the guard had told him that the Hospital did not need any water and he should proceed to the high school. The truck was emptying the water on the ground because the driver did not want to make the long trip back to town with an almost full tank. I could barely conceal my anger and told the driver to go to the Hospital and fill the 7 tanks so that the AIDS patients could have access to clean water when the pump wasn’t working or demand exceeded supply. The driver turned his huge truck around and headed towards the Hospital. The guard opened up the gate and the truck headed to the tank closest to the road. By this time it was getting dark and navigating the narrow openings between hospital buildings is tricky even in the daytime.
I ran to the large tank behind the hospital wards and sighed again. It was turned on its side and had a large hole. File (Broken!) The tank had not been prepared for the clean supply as per the plan laid out by the water engineer and staff. Disaster hit again as the tanker truck drove the narrow driveway by the wards and pulled out the low hanging telephone wire protruding from the ward. The tanker topped off two more outlying tanks on the grounds hurried out of the Hospital. The results of this fiasco- no clean water for the patients and no telephone service, probably for seven days until the repairman can make the long trip up the mountain. I was angry for the wasted trip by the water company and the curious set of circumstances that resulted in isipithipithi (total chaos), instead of a short term solution to the water shortage.
The next morning in American fashion, I lashed out at the guard that sent the truck away, the maintenance staff who did not prepare the tanks, and at my coworkers who were nonplussed by the events. This aggravation was not in the best Peace Corps spirit and did not help the staff to solve the problem on their own. By Wednesday afternoon, I felt sadness but my frustration and anger had subsided. The words of the serenity prayer hit home, which I needed to repeat Seven Times!
As for the part of Africa that we can change, albeit small, the computer classes for the Hospital staff have begun. Twenty five employees signed up for the classes which are taught after work, using the 3 office computers with three students taught one on one for eight lessons. The classes have been mixed with some success; two of the four students dropped out due to other commitments after work. However, we will continue to plug in students until we go home on June 28, our close of service date. Hopefully, all of the interested staff will get a chance to become literate with the computer. They will have to practice the typing program on their own. We hesitated to start the computer training, waiting for a training room with training computers, but decided to go with what was available as time is growing short for two short time volunteers.
Last week’s blog described the water shortages and the surprise visit by the Zululand Water Engineer who promised to send a tanker truck with treated water as a clean backup supply for the AIDS patients. He requested that the rain water in the 7 auxiliary tanks be cleaned out for the new supply and promised to provide the truck the same day. The truck did not arrive that day or the next, or the next, etc. However, Tuesday night, seven days later, I passed the tanker truck while jogging on the dirt road into the Hospital. I was incredulous that a filled tanker would attempt the trip at 6pm. I stopped the truck and told the driver that the Hospital had seven tanks that needed clean treated water, especially the one directly behind the wards. (When the taps in the Hospital are dry the nurses must haul basins of water from the auxiliary tanks on the Hospital grounds to the patients in the wards. AIDS patients are especially susceptible to water born infections such as cholera, giardia and cyclospora).
After my jog, I returned to the Hospital and could not find the Tanker Truck. When queried, the security guard motioned in the direction of the high school. I sighed and ran over to the high school in time to see the water overflowing from the top of their single auxiliary tank unto the bare red dirt. I yelled “Mana” (Stop)!!! The driver stated that the guard had told him that the Hospital did not need any water and he should proceed to the high school. The truck was emptying the water on the ground because the driver did not want to make the long trip back to town with an almost full tank. I could barely conceal my anger and told the driver to go to the Hospital and fill the 7 tanks so that the AIDS patients could have access to clean water when the pump wasn’t working or demand exceeded supply. The driver turned his huge truck around and headed towards the Hospital. The guard opened up the gate and the truck headed to the tank closest to the road. By this time it was getting dark and navigating the narrow openings between hospital buildings is tricky even in the daytime.
I ran to the large tank behind the hospital wards and sighed again. It was turned on its side and had a large hole. File (Broken!) The tank had not been prepared for the clean supply as per the plan laid out by the water engineer and staff. Disaster hit again as the tanker truck drove the narrow driveway by the wards and pulled out the low hanging telephone wire protruding from the ward. The tanker topped off two more outlying tanks on the grounds hurried out of the Hospital. The results of this fiasco- no clean water for the patients and no telephone service, probably for seven days until the repairman can make the long trip up the mountain. I was angry for the wasted trip by the water company and the curious set of circumstances that resulted in isipithipithi (total chaos), instead of a short term solution to the water shortage.
The next morning in American fashion, I lashed out at the guard that sent the truck away, the maintenance staff who did not prepare the tanks, and at my coworkers who were nonplussed by the events. This aggravation was not in the best Peace Corps spirit and did not help the staff to solve the problem on their own. By Wednesday afternoon, I felt sadness but my frustration and anger had subsided. The words of the serenity prayer hit home, which I needed to repeat Seven Times!
As for the part of Africa that we can change, albeit small, the computer classes for the Hospital staff have begun. Twenty five employees signed up for the classes which are taught after work, using the 3 office computers with three students taught one on one for eight lessons. The classes have been mixed with some success; two of the four students dropped out due to other commitments after work. However, we will continue to plug in students until we go home on June 28, our close of service date. Hopefully, all of the interested staff will get a chance to become literate with the computer. They will have to practice the typing program on their own. We hesitated to start the computer training, waiting for a training room with training computers, but decided to go with what was available as time is growing short for two short time volunteers.
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