Bondo's Big Adventure

AIDS Reminder

2008-07-14T05:07:00.000+02:00

California Summer

2008-07-14T04:55:00.001+02:00

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.

Home At Last-Happy Birthday America!

2008-07-05T02:15:00.002+02:00

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.

Farewell South Africa

2008-06-28T11:01:00.000+02:00

Last Night in South Africa

2008-06-27T21:45:00.001+02:00

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.

Nurses (Sisters) Doing the Bicycle 1940

2008-06-17T18:05:00.000+02:00

Farewell Photo

2008-06-16T11:13:00.000+02:00

Mountain High Farewell

2008-06-16T11:07:00.002+02:00

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.

Game Spotting Finale

2008-06-12T10:10:00.000+02:00

End of the Adventure

2008-06-08T20:12:00.001+02:00

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!

Rhino Roadblock

2008-06-01T18:55:00.005+02:00

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 Hluhluwe 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 baby 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 looked 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.

PV PCVS Meet

2008-05-24T16:31:00.001+02:00

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.

Mother's Day 2008

2008-05-12T13:47:00.001+02:00

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?

No Money No Honey

2008-05-04T10:14:00.001+02:00

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!

Egypt Highlights

2008-04-30T17:01:00.000+02:00

Walking Safari Pics

2008-04-30T16:12:00.003+02:00

Walking Safari

2008-04-29T17:39:00.000+02:00

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.

Life on the Nile

2008-04-24T22:42:00.002+02:00

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.

Stone Hearts

2008-04-13T10:41:00.001+02:00

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!

Cape Treasures

2008-04-06T21:42:00.000+02:00

Cape Treasures

2008-04-06T21:07:00.002+02:00

South African Sharp Sharp

2008-04-06T15:51:00.003+02:00

“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!

Creature Comforts

2008-04-02T19:01:00.000+02:00

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.

Klein Karoo

2008-03-31T20:34:00.000+02:00

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.

Poverty and Pension Day

2008-03-16T11:23:00.000+02:00

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.

Zululand Beauty

2008-03-15T17:50:00.001+02:00

Brendon's 60th Birthday St. Lucia SA

2008-03-09T17:39:00.001+02:00

Unexpected Weekend in Vryheid

2008-03-09T11:14:00.002+02:00

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.

So Cal Pals Photo Safari Feb 08

2008-03-02T14:36:00.002+02:00

Photos by Melinda and Ron Barth.

So Cal Pals Visit

2008-03-02T14:15:00.000+02:00

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!

Kindness in South Africa

2008-02-24T08:01:00.000+02:00

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?

Zululand Sights

2008-02-23T21:43:00.002+02:00

Water Blues

2008-02-17T11:29:00.001+02:00

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.

Mountain High Neighbors, Flora and Fauna

2008-02-11T18:51:00.000+02:00

Mountain High Neighbors

2008-02-11T18:30:00.000+02:00

Mountain High Woes and Wows

2008-02-10T12:53:00.000+02:00

Good News-Power at the Hospital returned this week with Load Shedding a fact of life for South Africa but with unpredictable patterns. The water shortage did not abate however, and grew worse on Tuesday with nothing coming out of the spigots in the early morning and some evenings. (Great excuse to put off washing dishes). We set out for Vryhied early Saturday morning with a pile of dishes sitting in the sink which will be waiting when we return this afternoon.

With American zeal, I called engineering firms and municipal water officials to determine the root cause of the water shortages. Since the power was working, the lack of treated water must be due to another problem besides load shedding; maybe a broken pipe, pump, inadequate tank capacity or increased demand from the doubling of the boys boarding facility. Ironically the small lake and river that are the source of our supply are abundantly full, due to above average rainfall this year. To our surprise, an engineer from Zululand Water arrived at the Hospital and stated that the pump was too small to provide water for the 500 persons using the system and a plan would have to be developed to replace the pump. In the meantime the utility company would provide a tanker truck of treated water. However, the tanker truck has not arrived and the nurses must take care of very sick AIDS patients with intermittent water supplies.

The nurses are the heroes at the Hospital. The professional nurses (called Sisters) are the US version of registered nurses. They are very experienced and have had several careers in nursing, which is a good thing because they have the character to deal with day to day crises, shortages of supplies, lack of a generator or clean water. This week the Hospital had another sort of crisis with the nurses, director and doctor at odds with each other creating a tense atmosphere. Peace Corps volunteers could not ameliorate the situation, only observe and feel pain from the disconnect. Dedicated professionals, taking care of suffering indigent AIDS patients, could not work as a team. Their squabbling caused us more personal grief than the water shortages or those long trips to town for food. Finger pointing and fault finding seemed to be the norm rather than problem solving.

In spite of the difficulties of the week, several positive developments occurred. First, an order for 20 fleece hats and scarves arrived from an NGO in JoBurg so at last some funding for continuation of the occupational therapy program for the patients has started up. (Of course it will take sales of around 2000 items to fully fund the volunteer coordinator and the quality fabric, beads and shoe materials that the Peace Corps grant paid for this year.) Winter is coming and the fleece hats look very inviting on a cold day- pension distribution points in March look like a good marketing tactic. This week was spent getting the JoBurg order ready and knotting the fleece scarves with yarn fringe.

Brendon and I finally connected with the Principal at the public high school that shares Mountain High. We have been tutoring and mentoring several Zulu students but want to formally offer assistance to the school. Peace Corps encourages a secondary project at each site. The charming man welcomed us with open arms and we wondered why we hadn’t met with him sooner. The high school has 500 students, most of them boarders. They come from all over Zululand and as far as JoBurg and Durban to attend this institution, named after the first Zulu Christian convert. The school has 100% of its students pass the national matric exam each year, the best record for any public school. However, there is the age old problem of town vs gown with most of the local children dropping out before 11th grade but a great education is available, even in this extreme rural site. The students have no distractions as there is no TV, internet, video games, shopping mall or fast food within 40 miles. They are required to attend study hall from 6 to 9 pm each night. They are highly motivated and understand that their role as the promise of the new South Africa. This school has no discipline problems with every student in class, listening attentively to the teacher’s lectures and doing the required work. In South Africa, the certificate or standard is what counts in getting a good job and a bright future.

In spite of no science laboratories, no textbooks in many subjects, and 40 or 50 students per class, signs of progress are in the works. The school has just received 24 top-of-the line personal computers for the students and beautiful new biology textbooks. We offered our services to assist with the computer lab, tutor in the sciences, organize an AIDS awareness day for the students in conjunction with the Hospital staff, and provide a Shakespeare instructor for a special session. (Welcome Melinda). The Principal joyfully embraced all of the ideas and asked Brendon to work on the network that day. The new South Africa is optimistic about the future and we saw this hope embodied in the staff at the high school. AIDs Awareness Day is especially poignant as the students are on summer vacation during the December program. HIV infection rates are finally going down among teenagers but plateaus as soon as the youth leave home in their 20’s. Hopefully an assembly devoted to AIDS education and the theme “Make a plan to stay AIDS Free for Life” will empower the students, lessen the stigma, and open up a dialogue.

Escape to Leopard Mountain

2008-02-04T17:49:00.001+02:00

So How’z it for the power crisis in SA? How does a Peace Corps Volunteer cope with no power? The power problem has settled into a pattern of no electricity for a few hours a day. So Why Worry! Akuna Matata! Unfortunately the power issue stretches its nasty web over all of the first world amenities- thus when the electricity shuts down in a remote location like Mountain High Hospital the clean water supply goes kaput and hot water is a pipe dream.

Last Sunday we awoke with no water because of the lack of power to drive the pump for the water system. The pump was primed and electricity restored several hours later. On Thursday the electricity was on “load shedding” and by Friday the power was back but the water and hot water were nowhere to be found. At 11 am the water mechanic announced that the water was on the blitz again. Brendon and I have been adapting to a lack of power with the purchase of candles, flashlights, batteries and a small barbeque for cooking but water restriction puts a damper (no pun intended) on many human activities. So with this announcement and the prospect of no power, water or hot water for the weekend we decided to TGIF (Thank God It’s Friday) by noon and head off to somewhere? Hopefully someplace with clean water! We hitched a ride to town and discussed where to go on of our two weekends offsite for the month.

A Peace Corp Volunteer (thank you Brad) had inquired about a game lodge which is nearby, Leopard Mountain Lodge. However, as the bird flies and the obscure dirt road make this destination a complicated getaway. However, speedy rides to town were coupled with transport to this beautiful lodge and game preserve, 10 km off the N2 highway. What a find! We have been eager to stay at a game lodge that is on the coastal track but have been put off by the prices- only the richest tourists can afford the $1000 per night per person so that they can sleep in air conditioned comfort in a tent with a full bath and butler in the bush. Leopard Mountain Lodge is on the 200,000 hectare Leopard Mountain Preserve and speaks for the future of affordable ecotourism in South Africa. I was embarrassed to call them late Friday as we searched for somewhere to go that would teach us about South Africa and would be fun. Leopard Mountain certainly met the bill! They graciously offered us one of the 6 beautiful thatched chalets high on the mountain above the savannah overlooking the game preserve. Each chalet has comfortable hammocks that swing across the deck. The price per night includes dinner and breakfast, scrumptious tea times and game drives with a lower cost for two people than a hotel room in a US city.

We found our way into Leopard Mountain Lodge late on Friday afternoon and were awed by the amazing location high above the savannah. The chalets are thatched with large covered decks that extend over the mountain cliff. The decorating style is African with local fabrics, tiles and baskets. (It will be hard coming back to the US with hard plaster ceilings that do not absorb noise or provide the insulating capacity (or drama) that beams covered with handhewn thatch provide.) We sat out on the deck for the first few hours gazing at the savannah below with baboon troops running down the dry river and impalas grazing on the hillside. Drums call one to dinner at the “Boma”, a sand pit with gas lanterns, Zulu altarpieces consisting of pots, grasses, sculptures and tables set with fine china, and five course gourmet dinners. Most interesting to note was the fact that there were only three couples enjoying this amazing repast and sensory experience. Entertainment was provided by two toads in stereo competing for territory.
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Saturday morning, Leopard Mountain provided complimentary game drives on their huge estate, which is now part of the Zululand Black Rhino Preserve. This is an effort to tear down the fences between properties and create an environment where existing game can thrive and former species can be reintroduced. After drinking a cup of real brewed coffee, we headed off in the open air jeep to view the game. One is promised two game drives a day and we took advantage of the offer with other guests as companions. The terrain is lovely with many beautiful African tree canopies, numerous species of birds and raptors and interesting geological formations. The game sightings were splendid-lovely herds of impala and wildebeest with their young, baboons running through the dry river, two cape buffalo cruising the terrain, families of wart hogs, and nyala with their yellow bobby sox and white stripes. The guide, who bears a certificate for wildlife knowledge and safety, stopped midway through the game drive in the dry riverbank for the passengers to stretch their legs and enjoy a cup of tea or cold drink. Surely a civilized way to face game in South Africa! After returning to the lodge where breakfast awaited, we relaxed at the rock pool and enjoyed the panorama below.

When Sunday came it was time to return to the Hospital and face the work for the week. The electricity, water and hot water were all functioning and we were ready for the tasks tomorrow. Peace Corps has taught us to be open to new opportunities and to turn lemons to lemonade. This weekend was full of lemonade and surprises!

Load Shedding Anyone?

2008-01-27T15:46:00.000+02:00

The fact that South Africa is a developing nation has been ringing home the last two weeks as the whole country has been gripped with “Load Shedding” a euphemism for the utilities shutting down power for several hours a day due to inadequate supplies of electricity. The power plants and transfer stations that should have been developed since apartheid to provide electricity for an industrialized developed nation were handed over to the private sector to build. Alas, since electricity here is a cheap commodity the private sector could not profitably build the infrastructure needed. Voila! The country is short of power with no easy short term fixes.

So what does “Load Shedding” mean for Peace Corps volunteers at a rural site where the power supply is inconsistent anyway? The summer thunderstorms cause numerous outages and one is advised to cook early in the day as electricity provides the only means of heating food on that handy-dandy hot plate. Two weeks ago the power went off suddenly in the morning and did not return until the next day. The day was not stormy so there appeared to be no explanation for the outage. The next day the outage lasted most of the day and finally came back on at 630pm in time to cook dinner. A radio report announced the bad news- the whole country was blacked out for several hours a day. There was no excess capacity and the utility company required each municipality to decide who and when to cut each day. By the fourth or fifth day everyone was getting cranky about the power as there was no pattern to the shut offs. After one week the shut downs took on a pattern with 3 hours out in the morning and two hours from 4 to 6pm. Moods improved when people learned how to plan. However, business losses were huge and traffic came to a standstill as the robots (traffic lights) in the cities did not work not to mention the electrical security fences that guard most of JoBurg. Most retail stores tried to stay open but there were few customers that ventured into town to shop. The tram heading up Table Mountain was stuck part way up. This week the platinum and gold mines had to close, causing the prices to rise and the stock market here to take a nosedive.

The Bonds were prepared for the power outages with their flashlights, headlamps, and candles. Our one room flat was lit up like a scene from a romantic movie. However after the third night of eating cold food and hauling out the old wine bottles used as candle holders the scene grew tiresome. The outages were taking their toll on our food supply with pungent smells coming from the frig. Fortunately after a week the power came on promptly at 630pm in time to cook dinner. At first we joked that the poor in the rural areas were required to sacrifice their sole means of cooking so that the rich in Durban could run their air conditioners during a heat wave but the problem is more complex than a brownout from excessive demand.

Last weekend we muddled whether to take the taxi to town or stay on the mountain, not knowing whether there was power in town. We needed groceries and a change of scenery after being at Mountain High for two weeks. We caught Mr. Zulu’s taxi and checked into our b and b. The young girl at the desk said we had our choice of rooms as the lodge and town were empty. We took a back room away from the road which was a mistake as it faces the rear of a slaughter house which had one of the few generators in town. Promptly at 10am and 4pm, as soon as the power went down, the noisy generator cranked up.

So what to do this weekend when TV and computers were idle? We hiked up the Vryheid Hill to spot game. Not only did we see eland, zebras, bushbuck, and impala, but their n flourishing new born young out learning the ropes. Ever see a baby zebra nurse? The impalas were shy and quickly routed their babies to protected covens. The small impalas had strong legs, however, and were able to run in time with their guardians. The impalas have a lovely grace and are a beautiful combination of white underbelly, wide tan stripe above the white and a chestnut brown top. The colors reminded me of Scotchmallow fondants at Sees Candies in the US. We were the only hikers in the preserve and chatted with the game warden on the hike down the hill. He was interested in getting the track repaired so more people could drive through the lovely preserve. I retorted that the game and atmosphere would drastically change if more vehicles braved the steep road. However, it was a shame that more people did not take advantage of the beautiful sights just a short walk from town. .

We felt restored after seeing the game and listening to the beautiful bird calls. Back at the B and B we wondered what to do for dinner and headed across the street to Dee’s, Vryheid’s finest restaurant. Dees’ is a classic South African restaurant with grilled meats and baby chicken, fish, crayfish ,and prawns and of course Greek salad which is on every restaurant in this country. (Someone must have wondered what to do with all the goats’ milk in SA, “Hey, why not make feta and popularize Greek salad). Garlic snails, mushrooms and side sauces like spicy peri-peri and monkey gland are universal on all menus. Meats include steaks, lamb chops, Rump and of course Ladies Rump at a discount. Dees has an elegant dining room and features upscale delights like steak stuffed with mussels or prawns with entrees being less than $10, sweet for Peace Corps budgets. I have made it a note to try Monkey Gland before returning home if only to find out its true source.

This night was a special annual event at Dee’s. Two rock bands had been hired to play 60’s, 70’s and 80’s goodies outside on their patio overlooking a beautiful garden with old growth trees, flowers and fountains. We asked to sit outside to listen to the bands and the waitress cautioned that the bands might be too loud for us. We told her not to worry and spent a lovely summer night listening to Our Music and finally feeling that we knew the culture and what was going on. This is what we have missed-the element of being in a crowd for pleasure, enjoyment and fun and not having to guess what is proper behavior. We were able to relax and just be another music lover rather than the object of curiosity or an outsider. The pleasure was great and diminished the power frustrations. The evocative music lasted into the next day as we headed back to the Hospital with the sounds of the Beatles and Sweet Alabama ringing in our ears.

Searching for Grub-Round 2

2008-01-20T21:22:00.001+02:00

Last week the Bond’s left you wondering whether they had chicken heads or eggs in their Bobotie. Fortunately the locals took pity on the silly Americans and understood what the poor soles were trying to communicate. The bobotie was a big success and a treat to eat. The next day (last Saturday 13 Jan) we attempted to hike to the site of commerce in our very rural small community, and purchase eggs and a tube of toothpaste.

Our mountain home consists of the AIDs/TB hospital high on a ridge overlooking a rural valley with small kraals (ranches). The mountain is also home to a deserted tea plantation, timber mill, Catholic shrine, indigenous nature preserve, and liquor store/tuck shop. We decided to take a short cut to get to the store, rather than traveling 4km down the dirt road to the tar road and hiking up and down the busy highway 3 km to the store.

So what’s it like to take the shortcut cross town to the store? Our coworkers had advised us that there was a great shortcut to the local tuck shop and to head to the right past the neighbor’s farm. So with that extensive guide map, we headed out the dirt road, over the bare rock section, past the high plain for grazing to the intersection with our neighbor’s farm. (The neighbor has a lumber trucking business and cattle enterprise and has been friendly when he passes us hiking down the track.) We walked down his long drive to his home where 3 dogs started barking and protecting their master’s estate. We hurried past the gate where the 3 dogs were ready to lunge and waved hello to the workers who came out to see the commotion. Thoughts of being accosted or arrested jumped through our minds but the adventure beckoned. Just past the gate we ran into mud on the track and several abandoned buildings. There were large vines and luscious overhanging flowers. This certainly was the tropical side of Mountain High. The track twisted around the neighbor’s estate until we reached a T. The left track went up the hillside away from what we thought was the direction of the small store. The right track headed into a dense forest of beautiful yellowing deciduous trees and ferns. The track grew smaller into a narrow path. Ahead I saw something in the path- a beautiful grey duiker and then another duiker headed the other direction. A lover’s spat? We headed down the slope on a narrow grassy footpath and were rewarded by a view of the water source for all of our mountain population-two lovely pristine lakes surrounded by virgin indigenous forest. The footpath crossed the isthmus between the small lakes.

Water is as scarce as transport here so the sight of these beautiful lakes was a treat for the eyes and soul. Many years ago, the NGO we work for sold grazing land to the neighbor in order to obtain access to the clean water in front of our view.

After crossing the small lakes we headed up the hillside, losing the obscure trail. After a short ways we came to a small pond where cattle were grazing. At the top of the hill above the pond a tin roofed farmhouse and kraal came into view. As we walked past the pond, a water monitor three feet long raged across the path into the pond. Of course, we jumped back and thought that crocodiles were part of this ecosystem. But a water monitor was pretty exciting to Southern California folks who get excited about geckos. We hiked past the pond and cows and headed towards the farmhouse. By this time we were completely lost with no indication of where the small settlement was located or the roads. We looked back at the pond and saw three makotis (matrons) following in our footsteps. We stopped to wait for them to catch up so that we could ask for directions. In my best Zulu I asked them where the tuck shop was located for the timber mill, and the women burst out laughing. They pointed to the farm house and said Lapha (There). We followed them through the kissing gates and up the small trail to the small store, which did have toothpaste and eggs. Success!

The small store was fixed in a former time with two styles of shoes, bags of mealies, watchbands, school supplies, cans of deviled meat, sewing notions, soap, eggs, tomatoes, onions and ice cold sodas. We asked the proprietor about the lizard and he laughed when we mentioned crocodile. No, he said in his best English, the lizards are varan.

So at last we had come to Mountain High central trading and were able to purchase needed items. I believe that getting there was at least half the fun!

Eggheads Anyone?-Peace Corps Grub

2008-01-13T17:02:00.000+02:00

Common wisdom holds that cuisine is the easiest introduction to another culture. If the food from another country tastes good, what’s not to like about that ethnic group or nationality? After 19 months of working as Peace Corps Volunteers in South Africa, the Bond’s have learned about the tastes of this host country and enjoyed the bounty of this fertile land. Although water is a scarce resource, the native forests and farms yield multitude varieties of mushrooms, mangoes, shallots, litchis, guavas, papayas, sweet succulent squash, aromatic carrots, flavorful firm tomatoes and luscious avocadoes. The free-range chickens are plump and juicy with intense flavor and very little fat. The lamb is gamey and delicious. The pork is tasty and cured without nitrates so has a mild smoky taste. The varieties of sausage are endless and harkens back to the voortrekkers and their fabulous home recipes for wors. Braai (barbeque) is the unifying food among the many cultural and language groups in South Africa with everyone loving beef and a national holiday called “Braai Day.”

Ironically, food causes the most tension among Peace Corps volunteers and their host families. Most volunteers spend their two years living with a family (as we did our first two months of training) and eat with the family. Thus their diet may not have the variety of food as in the United States or the familiarity. Food habits are among the hardest to change. The Zulu’s diet in our area consists of mealy meal (pap) porridge, sauce for the porridge, vegetable- squash, chard, or beet root and rice for special dinners. Zulus love meat but cannot afford to eat it every day. All parts of the beef or chicken are eaten with a brand name of “Walkie Talkie” chicken (heads and feet.) The Zulus are careful cooks and take time to make the food tasty with sauce mixes. They do not like spicy foods. Thus comes the rub when a volunteer arrives as a guest and cannot eat his/her familiar foods because they are not available and the family cannot afford the American style ingredients. Volunteers are encouraged to purchase foods for the family and do their share of cooking but many volunteers come to Africa without the knowledge or experience to prepare their favorite foods. (Hint for Peace Corps applicants-Bring your favorite recipes with you and learn to cook before you get here-NO McDonald’s on every corner). Another problem is that food purchased by the volunteer becomes the property of the entire family-Ubuntu or community. So misunderstandings occur. (I remember a low point in training, everyone is calorie deprived at this time, when I had selected 5 perfect apples from the market to share with the family and they all disappeared within a few minutes with none for the hungry Bond’s). When we arrived at Mountain High, we decided to cook all of our meals in our one room flat off the business office and have enjoyed having a family life and seeing what can be created on a hot plate and occasional access to an oven.

Food is precious because it is so hard to obtain or grow here at Mountain High. Simple purchase of groceries requires a 2 hour taxi ride to town, a 1 km hike across town to the supermarket, purchase of the groceries and packing them in backpacks or large plastic tote bags, 1 km hike back across town to the taxi, a 2 hour taxi ride back to our mountain site and sometimes a 4 km hike from the tar road to the Hospital. Thus each item is carefully selected for size, durability and consistency with the meal plan for the week. No bags of chips on impulse or large roasts!

After many days in hotels over Christmas and recovery from wisdom tooth misery, Brendon decided to cook a celebratory South African dish on Friday night, “Bobotie”. This dish has Malay origins in Cape Town and is a fabulous concoction of beef or lamb, spices, fruits, nuts, chutney with a cream/egg topping. Originally it was cooked over an open fire in a special brown ceramic pot. Maybe the world’s best meat loaf or savory fruit cake! We found all of the ingredients and prepared the meat mixture. Trouble Hit! No eggs for the topping. It’s a long ways to run to the supermarket so I made a break for the Mountain High tuck shop. Every community in South Africa has a tuck shop, which is a very small convenience store, sometimes the back end of someone’s home. Alas although the shop sells shoe polish (good looking shoes and clothing are essential in South Africa), no eggs were to be found. A run to the Hospital kitchen and a plea for “Amakhanda” only drove the kitchen cooks into hysterics as I forgot the Click required to say eggs and instead asked them for chicken heads. They finally brought out 4 precious eggs and we were able to enjoy the Bobotie. This dish is a visual delight as the bay leaves stand tall in the custard looking like sails on the ship of good taste. Our first taste of Bobotie was in Darling where the satirist Evita de Perone had a topping that was thick and tasted of Mascarpone and Cream Fraiche. Alas his recipe not to be found.

INGREDIENTS:

2 medium sized onions, chopped
10 ml vegetable oil
40 ml butter
600 g ground beef or ground lamb
2 thick slices of stale white bread
125 g sultana raisins
60 ml flaked almonds
40 ml chutney
2 garlic cloves, crushed
10 ml masala (curry powder)
½ tsp turmeric
½ tsp minced ginger
½ tsp ground cumin
½ tsp ground coriander
pinch of cinnamon
pinch of nutmeg
3 cloves
salt to taste
ground black pepper
10 bay leaves

Egg custard:
3 eggs
150 ml milk

METHOD:

Preheat the oven to 200°C. Fry the onions in vegetable oil and butter over medium heat until they begin to brown. Add the beef and brown for a few minutes. Place the beef in a colander and soak the bread in the juice that drains from it.

In a mixing bowl, combine the beef and all the rest of the ingredients except the bay leaves. Press the bobotie mixture into a deep oven-proof dish. Spike the bay leaves into the mince.

Beat together the eggs and milk and pour over the top of the mince. Bake at 200°C for 30 minutes until the custard has browned.

Serve the bobotie with geel rys (white rice cooked with turmeric, raisins and cloves), chutney, chopped tomato and onion, sliced banana and desiccated coconut. Serves 6 - 8 people.

Clarens Views

2008-01-07T12:05:00.001+02:00

Secretary Bird Hogging the Road

Long Tail Bird in the grass at GG park
Left-Wild Protea on trail

view from our flat of the town and GG

The Berg Photos

2008-01-07T11:50:00.000+02:00

More Drakensberg Photos

2008-01-07T11:25:00.001+02:00

TIA This IS Africa

2008-01-06T13:39:00.000+02:00

Instead of plunging back into work at Mountain High Hospital at the start of the New Year, Brendon and I have returned to Pretoria for follow-up treatment of the infected wisdom tooth pulled last month. The dentist diagnosed the problem as “Dry Socket” and prescribed the antibiotic that will cure the bone infection so today I am on the mend-mending in comfort next to a beautiful swimming pool in a tropical setting. This morning we attending the Uniting Presbyterian Church in Hatfield which aptly describes the country-Uniting is in process; not there yet. Tomorrow a final recheck with the dentist and then back to Mountain High Hospital to assist the patients and staff.

The Occupational Therapy is continually in flux as patients are discharged and new patients are admitted. The last month had the men in the majority and they eagerly sewed shirts, beaded and made shoes from impala skins. Unfortunately, they spend more time at the hospital as they are less compliant with the drug and lifestyle regimes for TB and AIDS. So towards the end of December many women were discharged or given passes while the men remained confined to the Hospital. Both the men and women are amiable and fun to work with. In spite of their conditions, they never whine or feel sorry for themselves and seek to laugh and joke at any opportunity-especially at the absurd Zulu of their American handcraft teacher!

I have wondered why the blogs of my colleagues are not as full of wonder and insights as they originally were when we first arrived at our work sights. The problem is that the inane experiences and amazing sights are now old hat and we are failing to see the beauty and delight of the everyday as it has now become commonplace. The taxi rides are tedious and uncomfortable. The wonderful inguni cows and goats in the road are just a nusiance. (Our taxi driver Mr. Zulu purchased a long whip when he purchased his new van which he uses to swat the cows which will not move out of the road. The goats are smarter and scurry to the roadside when cars come). Being a pedestrian is fraught with danger and fear from drivers and muggers. 40% of all traffic fatalities in SA are pedestrian deaths. The drivers speed up in intersections instead of slowing down. The pedestrian does not have the right of way and has to scurry out of the road just like the goats. The attitude “TIA This IS Africa” was humorous at first but now the delays, slowness of pace and inability to get anything done creates a feeling of impotence and waste, albeit the status quo.

Employees in South Africa complain about the low wages but they appreciate the generous public holidays, paid leave, government medical care, tea time breaks, long lunch periods, no overtime required and secure employment. I have told them about work in America with 10 hour days, weekend work, no coffee breaks, intense competition for jobs, accountability for productivity, and customer service satisfaction. Plus if one cannot rise to the task there are dozens waiting in line for the job. Globalization requires that productivity must rise in order to meet world standards. The employees are incredulous about work standards in America but they also are incredulous that Americans would volunteer to come to Africa to work for nothing.

Family is everything to South Africans and that spirit of community or Ubuntu is the factor that is keeping the villages together in spite of all the deaths of parents and workers from AIDS. Everyone is an Auntie or Sister or Brother or Father and they do not hesitate to jump in and help care for the orphans left behind.

In spite of sounding jaded and tired of my experience as a volunteer in South Africa, there are so many things that I love about the country and its people. These blessings and pleasures are bestowed in so many ways in many places:
The beautiful smiles of the children in our mountain community and their eagerness to talk and run with us. “Gejima” (Run) I call, “Shesha” (Faster).
The over 900 varieties of birds in this country that create a landscape of color and sound. The gardens are landscaping in the cities are crowded with exotic birds with beautiful calls not to mention the ever present hadeda Ibis which scream at the top of their lungs in flight and are beautiful/ugly in their iridescent feathers and huge ungainly forms
Game spotting when you least expect it. Yesterday at the botanical gardens in Pretoria a young grey duiker was seen in a field of yellow wild flowers next to two guinea fowl, proud in their white spots and turquoise crest. Game is ubiquitous in South Africa, not just the national parks or game preserves. The fun is to spot and then identify the game and see what other species are around. Giraffes are never alone; zebras are often accompanied by eland or impalas. Baboons are always in a troop with the babies clutching the mother’s breast as she runs through the forest.
Learning many new cultures and customs finally getting the story straight. Last year when we arrived a minister announced that he had an impala to give away. We did not know whether he was referring to a car or a mammal but now we know that animals, hides, skins and antlers are all part of the cultures here not to mention biltong (jerky) which is made from every type of game including elephant.
The wonderful tribal clothing and uniforms that everyone wears from school children in their striped ties and colors to church ladies with blue and white started gowns or crimson with white crosses.
The hospitality and comfort of the lodges, backpackers and b and b establishments and the unique flavor of each. It will be hard going back to cookie cutter motels in America. (not to mention US food and wine prices Ugh!)

So there is a reason that Peace Corps service is only 2 years. After that the wonder and appreciation for the novelty and excitement wears off and one becomes part of the system here in South Africa. We will see how much of the US seems new when we get home and surely will miss many things about SA. See you in July!

Drakensberg South to North

2007-12-31T13:50:00.001+02:00

Clarens Cafe
Golden Gate National Park

Drakensberg Mtns-South to North

2007-12-31T13:44:00.001+02:00

Chime Craftsman on Midlands Meander

Tugela Gorge in Royal Natal National Park, Amphitheater

Geological Formations on Tugela Trail in Royal Natal

Happy New Year from Clarens SA

2007-12-31T09:44:00.001+02:00

Happy New Year to family, friends and neighbors! I am missing you very much but realize that 2008 brings our return home and reunion with our loved ones. Hopefully, you haven’t forgotten us and we can catch up on all of the news and cultural events we have missed. May God bless you in 2008 and give you peace and hope, the greatest of gifts! Service in the Peace Corps is a gift but it comes with sacrifices, not only for the volunteer but their family and friends who must fill in the gaps for them. The gaps cover everything from parenting (thanks Al for rising to the task), counseling grieving friends, paying bills and taxes, and taking care of rental property. No matter how carefully one plans for their absence, contingencies and crises arise that cannot be handled from 12,000 miles away. So we are very grateful that our family and friends have supported us and allowed us to abandon our roles in the US to serve AIDS patients in a mission hospital in Zululand. Sometimes we feel very guilty for shirking our place in our home community and our responsibilities as parents, but this has been a fabulous opportunity to use our skills and learn about South Africa. The motto on the blog site is “Do Some Good, Have Some Fun.” At this point in our service, our accomplishments may not be discernable but we sure have had a great time. Enough adventure for a lifetime!

This is the third phase of our Drakensberg Mountain road trip and we have spent the last four days in Clarens, the Free State at the north end bordering Lesotho. Clarens is an art town (don’t look for a pharmacy or supermarket) loaded with art galleries, ceramic studios, metal sculpture, foodie havens with every imaginable jam, pickle, cheese, condiment available (most homemade so I have had to put my Food and Drug training to bed), gourmet restaurants with camembert and fig in pastry, rocket and pear etc. The town is very charming with darling b and b or self catering facilities with oh so precious names like Cottage Pie and Toad House. The setting is at 6000ft next to Golden Gate National Park, aptly named for the fantastic red and gold geologic formations with green lichens growing up the mountain sides. The setting and artsy atmosphere reminds me of Sedona, if Sedona’s rock formations with blown up ten times the size. The park is full of wildflowers and birds this time of year, which is spring here in the high country. The activities here seem to be hiking the mountains or green valleys, touring the art galleries, or enjoying the restaurants and brew pubs. The town is picture perfect with a sandstone church with rooster weather vane, beautiful town square, open air shops and cafes and NO BARBED WIRE anywhere. The spot is great for coots like us but is also full of young couples and motor cyclists who drive from JoBurg (3 hours) for the day to enjoy the gorgeous setting. Tonight we will be celebrating New Years Eve at the Grouse and Claret, and open air restaurant where the evening temperature is 75 degrees. Perfect relaxing and enjoying the setting.

After touring the Midlands Meander for four days, we spent two days at Royal Natal National Park in the north end of the Drakensberg Mountains. The Amphitheater mountain formation stretches 8 km across and is 10000ft high. The light and shadows of the mountains change continually all day, creating mystery and awe. It begs to be climbed but is often shrouded in fog and mist. We caught glimpses of the forms, waterfalls, cascades and huge rock slabs as we hiked the Tugela gorge, a famous valley between the rock slabs. The Drakensberg is named for its sharp peaks like Dragons teeth; the Zulus named it after spear heads.

Tomorrow we head back to Mountain High to plunge back into our jobs and try to squeeze some productivity and sustainability out of the next 6 months. Our goal is to teach computer literacy to any staff member or resident that wants to learn how to use a computer. However, the teaching will be after work hours so it will be interesting to see if anyone shows up. As the weather grows colder I am hoping to have a marathon fleece hat sale, with proceeds slated for the continuation of the occupational therapy program after we go home. We are already feeling the imperative and push for limited time left and not much to show for our efforts. We have learned a huge amount from the experience and a different value system, especially pertaining to urgency and time schedules. We hope when we return to America, our new skills of patience and flexibility will go with us.

Happy New Year from Clarens SA

2007-12-31T09:44:00.000+02:00

Merry Midlands

2007-12-22T20:19:00.001+02:00

View from our Rondaval in the Midlands Meander

Merry Christmas from the Midlands Meander

2007-12-22T19:55:00.000+02:00

Giraffes and Zebras at Umgeni Reserve

Brendon eating Lithchi nuts on the porch of our Rondaval

Wildflowers on the trail at Umgeni Reserve

Merry Christmas! Love to You!

2007-12-22T17:56:00.001+02:00

Merry Christmas and Blessings to Everyone!!

Santa came early for Bondo! After almost two weeks of waiting, a fancy oral surgeon at a Medical Center in Pretoria pulled out the infected wisdom tooth in 5 minutes with no complications. When asked if I wanted general anesthesia (which would have to be scheduled later) or take my stint in the chair Now Now (means immediately in South Africa), I jumped at the chance to say goodbye to any wisdom remaining and get on with life. The doctor was skillful and professional; two hits with a chisel, two episodes of drilling and two twists of the tooth and it was out laying before me like a trophy. Of course today my jaw looks like Brendon has become a wife beater but all is well with the Bonds.

We started the Christmas holiday by holing up in a country lodge in the Midlands Meander at the foot of the Drakensburg Mountains. This artsy craftsy region consists of rolling hills, lakes, farms and cutesy towns with small craft studios, local cheese manufacturers, fishing and hiking trails. It is named after the Midlands area of the UK which it is supposed to resemble. Perfect for old coots or coot wannabees! Our lodging consists of a darling thatched rondaval with a flower studded porch that looks up at the Giants Castle formation in the Mountains. From our porch we watch long tailed birds duke it out with LBJ (little brown jobs) for territory in the long grasses by the pond. It is decorated in African style with a small ceramic fireplace, trendy Zulu fabrics and African motif tiles. Everything is spanking new and luxurious-even a microwave and café presse but is low budget by American standards. The hospitality industry in South Africa is a treat with small lodges taking on the unique personality of their owner. We purchased groceries for the next 5 days and will be able to have a real Christmas at our new home with the wonderful fresh ingredients available in the markets here. Much of the lodging in South Africa is “Self Catering” which means that you can really be at home while traveling as the digs have kitchen, living area and separate bedroom. After the Midlands tour, we will head to Royal Natal National Park to view the craggy rock formations of the Drakensburg. Then on to Clarens, another artsy community close to Golden Gate National Park. Summer has finally come with long warm days and afternoon showers.

To celebrate our health and this beautiful holiday, we went on a long hike at a local nature preserve, Umgeni. Howick is the closest town to our lodge, known for its waterfalls and boarding schools. Today we chose to go the nearby nature preserve instead of the falls and were not disappointed. What a thrill to arrive and see zebras lounging in the parking area. The hike starts on a high bluff and transverses a steep cliff to a grassy plain where giraffes were munching on tall acacia trees. The area is very green and lush with waterfalls and lovely creeks abounding with ferns and cycads. Flowers were in bloom as it is still spring on this high plain. During the 4 hour hike we passed only two other hikers who said they had spotted a cape buffalo, but alas it was only a blue wildebeest. Birds, bok and butterflies were in abundance on this fine day. Truly a gift of health and well being on Christmas 2008.

We wish all of our family, friends and neighbors a joyful Christmas and Peace in the coming year. We thank you for your support for our service in the Peace Corps and look forward to seeing you this summer when we come home. We love Africa (except when we hate it) and believe that we still have work to do here. We miss you all but are grateful for this opportunity to learn, grow and serve.

AIDS Day at Mountain HIgh-Patient Choir

2007-12-19T08:49:00.000+02:00

The Jabule Occupational Therapy Group formed a patient choir for AIDS Day and sang a Zulu song about positive living. Their skirts, shirts and beads were all hand made by them during the Jabule sessions each day. Materials for the clothing and beads were a gift from a US Peace Corps grant for care of AIDs patients.

Quality Day and View from Mountain High - Spring

2007-12-19T07:34:00.000+02:00

Dear Friends and Family, I am in Pretoria waiting to have my nasty wisdom tooth out tomorrow (12-20) so I hope to be a toothless wonder by Friday. Please say a prayer that the surgery will go well and I will be chomping on biltong (local jerky) soon. Love to you all and Merry Christmas. We have great internet here so I will publish more pics.
bondo

Safari Spa

2007-12-15T18:20:00.000+02:00

After a tumultuous week, Brendon and I are celebrating Reconciliation Day at a Safari Spa in Zululand, a unique concept that combines wild game park, nature preserve with natural springs and mud baths. Something for everyone! This morning was spent hiking through the game park enjoying the numerous acacias with flowers every color of the rainbow, at least 20 varieties of butterflies and indigenous green scrub covering the rocky mountainsides up to the river which is the source of the spa the verdant paradise that one sees. There are warnings around about the black mambas that lurk in the grasses- one bite from an affronted mamba brings death in 45 minutes. There are also green mambas whose venom is less deadly and whose bright chartreuse color is a delight to behold. (We have spotted dead ones on our dirt road at the Hospital). We hiked down by the crocodile camp which is actually recycled water from the four natural hot water pools. The crocodiles thrive in the warm water. We walked along the edge of the fence of the camp after watching the crocs cruising in the pond and came across two sleeping crocs at the edge of the fence. Their mouths gaped open and they looked like Disney fakes but one opened his eye and growled at Brendon, eyeing lunch for this day. Ironically crocodiles are not feared in the same manner as snakes, which are feared by all cultures in South Africa and given an inordinate amount of attention.

A small delight of the hike was two dung beetles doing their heavy work of rolling a small ball of dung up a slope to their nest. The dung was approximately 1” in diameter and the beetles were less than ½” across. One beetle would spin the huge mound around and the second would push the mound forward, capitalizing on the momentum from the first beetle. What a great allegory for marriage or any partnership where one plus one can be better than two. Their attempts were humorous as times as the huge ball would end up in crevices and they had to roll the ball down the crevice, loosing the ground they had gained. But they were unrelenting and unstoppable in their task of capturing that ball of dung for their common good or whatever it is that dung beetles do with their precious find.

The hot water pools are fun for soaking and meditation, not to mention getting the kinks out of old Peace Corps Volunteers. Tomorrow we may try the hot mud pool down by the river. Kids swimming in the water pool today related their experience. One lowers themselves into the mud which is warm on top but cold on the bottom. The mud feels great on the skin but is a nuisance to remove from hair and body orifices. The mud is like sand and does not stick but one cannot float around in the cauldron. But it sure is a lot of fun to throw at your friend or cousin, who is standing close by.

Trouble seems to strike in threes as last Saturday I woke up at 4am with an impacted wisdom tooth causing pain that throbbed, hissed, jerked, and banged at my jaw. Consultation with a local dentist showed that the half emerged wisdom tooth was infected and needed to be pulled. This is no easy task as there are no local oral surgeons and pulling wisdom teeth from the old (and supposedly wise) American is no easy task. Thus 9 days later I am facing another risk/benefit decision. Plus there is the additional problem of the Christmas holidays when most of South Africa is on their summer vacation.

Impacted wisdom teeth problems pale in comparison with the HIV crisis in South Africa. This week the Hospital driver who was just admitted to the male ward with Pneumonia died and broke everyone’s heart. He was a charming man who just last week won his first game at Bingo and clowned around making the patients laugh and forget their plight. AIDS Day was celebrated on Thursday with speeches, music, candle lighting and the admonishment that “It Starts with YOU”. The needless death of the driver was on everyone’s mind as the Hospital will be at a loss without this essential person and we will miss his friendship. The day was not without its bright moments as the patients in the Jabule handcrafts strutted out in their finest hand sewn skirts, shirts (yes the men are now sewing very trendy African shirts), hats and beading. They formed a choir and entertained the hospital with their four part acapella harmony. They were an inspiration to live not just positively, but to catch the joy of life, in spite of its travails.

Quality Day 2008

2007-12-02T12:31:00.000+02:00

Quality Day-2nd Time Around

2007-12-02T12:16:00.000+02:00

This week was another lesson in taking life’s bumps and grinds and enjoying the day anyway!

This year the KwaZuluNatal Zululand District Health “Quality Day Nov. 29” was a day to remember for Mountain High Hospital. Last year the Hospital attended as observers at the government hospital’s displays and award roundup. This year Mountain High “put forth its stuff” with photos, graphs, “Problem, Solution, Results” displays, patient handcrafts, and plenty of red, yellow and blue, the Hospital colors. For me the day was a culmination of a year of collecting photos of events (AIDS Day, Patient Fashion Shows, Before and After pictures) and telling the story behind the photos.

“Quality Day” was held at a District Hospital in Ulundi, a 1 ½ hour drive over dirt roads from Mountain View Hospital. The event was supposed to start at 9am, so I tried to round up the driver, vehicle and participants at 7:30am to be able to set up the displays before the speeches began. It has rained almost continuously for the past 2 months so the condition of the road was unpredictable. (The day before the nurse responsible for quality was stranded for 3 hours due to impassable road). The truck was loaded with the display materials and the diesel fuel for the trip was funneled into the tank from plastic carboys. At last we were on our way. In spite of the muddy potholed soaked road, we made the trip without a hitch and arrived at the hospital, which was formerly a Catholic mission. Our display was quickly assembled and we were all proud of our pictorial story with its theme “Mountain High Hospital-Advancing to Quality.” The speeches, dancing Zulus, choirs, and awards went on all day. This event caused a more severe case of TB (Tired Bottom) for those whose Zulu is not what it should be-even the lighthearted jokes were missed, except for a jab by an MC about the excesses of “Quality” exhortation-Even his smile was a “Quality Smile”.

After the last speech at 4:30pm and refreshments (which always consist of beef, rice, squash, curry) it was time to hurry home to do the potholes before darkness set in. I grabbed a large stack of fabric, photos, and handcrafts and headed to the truck. Alas the grassy parking area was full of holes and I felt my left foot twist down into the hole. The stabbing pain prevented me from walking any further so I called to Brendon and he helped me to the truck.

Thus I have spent three days in our one room flat behind the Hospital thinking about our experience here and what we have learned. Such confinement in America to my four bedroom home would have set off depression and anger. However, here I was happy to read – The Poisonwood Bible is an interested parallel to Peace Corps service; the missionaries sole purpose is to evangelize-Peace Corps volunteers are prohibited from proselytizing. However, Peace Corps volunteers and missionaries both make impacts based on relationships with others. So many misunderstandings occur each day but friendships and rapport do develop. Peace Corps service has provided me with a lifetime hobby-Zulu beading- which can be done anywhere, anytime and makes the hours fly. Beading is also a great way to meet people and teach Zulus how to create their culture. Who can resist an invitation to learn how to bead a ring in 2 minutes? So with the added pleasure of space radio and NPR the days have pleasantly drifted by and my foot is healing. A good lesson for the future when Father Time robs one of mobility and health. Happiness is not dependent on circumstances. This experience has produced an improvement in the Serenity prayer which requires one to accept the things that cannot be changed-it is better to not just accept circumstances but relax and enjoy the opportunity! Other Peace Corps volunteers agree that as soon as one realizes that they are stuck at home every night in this country, they develop new interests and learn to make bread, play cards and board games, and even write letters to friends back home.

Several other “calamities” occurred after the foot injury-a major storm knocked out the electricity for 20 hours on Friday and today we have no water (probably due to the electricity issue). However, it is a beautiful spring day and the water will come when it comes.

Thanksgiving at Ambassador Bost's Residence

2007-11-25T17:32:00.000+02:00

Thanksgiving with Ambassador Bost

2007-11-24T09:29:00.000+02:00

Peace Corps service is not all hair shirt and taxi ordeals. Due to the generosity of the American Ambassador Bost, Peace Corps volunteers were invited to his residence for an All American Thanksgiving Dinner! This feast assuaged the homesickness for the volunteers and marines who attended. Plus it was a wonderful party!

The long trip to Pretoria was worth the effort to be greeted by Ambassador Bost and his wife at their Dutch style home in Waterkloof. The residence stands on a bluff that overlooks the City with a tall American flag flying proudly. This was the first American flag that I have seen in almost two years and it made me feel nostalgic. The home was furnished in beautiful antiques and had that American feel to it that resonates with comfort, style and simplicity. The Ambassador cleared out all of the furniture in his living room to set up tables for the delicious meal that included every imaginable Thanksgiving menu item plus more-turkey, ham, dressing, waldorf salad, green beans, macaroni and cheese, beets and tomatoes, homade cranberry sauce, yams, mashed potatoes and five deserts including ginger cheesecake. The big-hearted Ambassador opens his home every year and knows the appetites of Peace Corps volunteers who are homesick for American cooking. What a gracious host! After dinner the music and dancing started. He and his wife encouraged everyone to participate and let loose on this special day. It felt good to be with Americans and their style of hospitality. The day seemed familiar and bespoke of many holidays at home. The memory will be treasured!

The day was not without its mishaps, however. We received our initiation into the crime of South Africa. Like Thanksgiving at home where Brendon and I go for a run or long walk in the morning after the turkey is in the oven, we set off to walk through the nearby botanical gardens with another PC volunteer. We had been told that the road had a tricky overpass just before the garden starts so were glad to enter a gate for a wetlands preserve next to the botanic gardens. I was determined to see the botanic gardens as the flowers are in full bloom this time of year. Brendon was getting blisters from wearing flip flops so I ran ahead to see if the birds and flowers were worth the effort. He and the other volunteer decided to turn back. After a short time I looked back them and saw that a man had come on the scene and Brendon was waving his arms and yelling. I ran back as the man took off. He had come from the road with a beer bottle in his hand and demanded food and money. He then broke the bottle into sharp shards and said he would kill Brendon if he did not give him money. Brendon and the other volunteer gave him their money and cell phone and the desperate man ran away. No one was physically hurt. However, our spirits were shattered and we felt very stupid for thinking we could take a walk in a nature preserve on a beautiful day. Wrong! Even in groups at 10am in the morning the city is not safe for walking. The crime element must be dealt with if South Africa wishes to have a free society. Security systems and protection for citizens have an extraordinarily high cost for this Country. There is no quick fix for the 50% unemployment as much of the population has no job skills and is poorly educated.

The rest of Thanksgiving weekend was spent with medical appointments and city pleasures. We caught two movies “Beowulf” and “River Queen” which were both delights.

Rural Mountain Afternoon

2007-11-17T20:22:00.000+02:00

Community HIV Outreach Project Replaces Capacity Builder

2007-11-17T20:10:00.000+02:00

Peace Corps volunteers, Susan and Brendon, explored the manifestation of their role as “NGO Capacity Builders” in a rural AID/TB hospital in Zululand, South Africa. This job title has mystified all volunteers in our PC group from the beginning of our service. After 1 ½ years of volunteer service, the jobs for our peers seem to range from receptionist at the NGO to Operations Manager at a rural hospital. We recently learned that the “Capacity Builder” job classification has evolved into a new project called CHOP “Community HIV Outreach Program.”

The week had it ups and downs, with one day experiencing deep satisfaction and enjoyment from our Peace Corps service and the next day, frustration and annoyance.
On Wednesday, Brendon and I hiked down into the Valley community to take photos of the Mountain High Mobile Clinic in action for an upcoming display at “Quality Day” for the District Health Dept. The day was stunningly beautiful with the Valley in full green, women carrying trees on their heads (twala) as they walked as talked and schoolgirls giddy with excitement as the school term ended. It was hard to believe our good fortune to be assigned to hike through the trees and rocky hillside as part of our jobs here. We met the Mobile Clinic as it came over the top of the mountain and parked under the large tree which serves as shade for the patients who come to receive treatment. The mobile clinic is one of the successes of Mountain High Hospital as it serves 14 extremely rural villages where there is no medical care available. Nurses diagnose, treat and care for many acute and chronic conditions, sometimes seeing more than 100 patients a day. Today the turnout was light at this first stop as the community had been given insufficient notice the clinic was coming, but the nurses did not get discouraged. The new nurse/driver turned the converted pickup truck around on the narrow steep dirt road and headed for the next site.

The next day the health department inspectors came to do an audit of the Hospital and the ambiguity of the Peace Corps role as “Capacity Builder” came to light. The director of the hospital was away for the day. Brendon had been sent to the monthly manager’s meeting for the district health. Thursday’s schedule for the Occupational Therapy Program for the patients is leather day with the men making simple sandals and the women small bags. In the middle of the lesson on how to glue the insole to the sole, the head nurse summoned me to the audit team to explain the hospital accounting/accountability process. I lacked the authority and responsibility to properly explain the process and was frustrated by being called upon to represent the hospital. Capacity building entails helping and supporting individuals that have the responsibility and authority to exercise those powers. The greatest satisfaction at this hospital has been teaching basic skills to AIDs patients and helping the administrative staff to learn modern office practices. This experience in dealing with health department auditors has given me great sympathy for the personnel in drug manufacturing companies in California who were called upon to answer for their corporate quality assurance programs but lacked the proper background to answer the complicated questions during the audits of my former career. I answered the questions in the most honest, correct fashion that I knew but was disturbed that I was not the best person to be doing this job and it was NOT capacity building as next year the auditors would be back and the Peace Corps volunteers would be home.

Today our positive experience in SA bounced back as we traveled to our shopping town to participate in our church’s annual bazaar held in front of the 150 year old historic church in the heart of town. I sold fleece hats and scarves while the church members held a “jumble sale” (rummage), cooked sausages/curry, and sold home baked goods and preserves. South Africa produces very delicious steamed puddings, scones, marmalades, cheese cakes and boers wors. The prices for the items at the jumble sale were low and lower so the customers left happy. The fleece hats for sustainability of the occupational therapy program at Mountain High also sold well so the day was a big success. The weather helped and the day was lot of fun.

A Day of Eland

2007-11-11T18:41:00.001+02:00

After a week of heavy rain, fog and mist we were hesitant to travel to our shopping town for a soggy weekend. Its charms are clearly outdoor activities like game spotting on the hill, hiking or bird watching. However, having business in town and needing to go to the post office, we got up at 5 am, looked out the window and sighed at more fog and rain. By 6:10 am Mr. Zulu’s taxi was almost full due to the high school students completing their examinations and wanting to go home. We were fortunate to get the last two spots for the ride to town. Mr. Zulu drove very cautiously, demonstrating his expertise that anticipates every curve and unseen obstacle. The road is treacherous under ideal conditions with cows, goats and pedestrians appearing from nowhere, stalled cars and taxis racing each other to town.

Halfway down the mountain the fog lifted and our mood brightened at the sight of the gorgeous mountains, forests, badlands, and new spring flowers of Zululand. By the time we arrived in town, the sun was shining and our spirits were soaring. After our business was done we headed up the Vryheid Hill to see the game and new spring flora. The short hike to the game preserve was amply rewarded with many beautiful birds that have returned from the north. The big surprise was the herd of eland at the top of the hill enjoying the new grass. Usually game spotting requires hiking to the summit and then continuing down the slope to a plateau. The game look like brown rocks from the summit which start moving as one gets closer. Today the elands and impala were grazing on the fresh green grasses at the summit. Two solo bucks startled us in their huge magnificent forms silhouetted along the mountain ridge. They are among the largest of the antelopes and dwarfed the zebras nearby. Farther down on the slope we spotted more “brown rocks” which amazingly was a herd of 50 eland with their newborn young. They were grazing with impalas as escorts. The new mothers watched us intently and began to move away. We quietly back off and headed back to town.

Such is life in Africa as a Peace Corps volunteers. When you are discouraged and hate the conditions, amazing events occur and your hate is replaced with awe and love. Each day brings new experiences that may be raw but make one feel alive in contrast to the dull routines of life in the first world.

A conversation with a group of British tourists on Sat. night brought the reality of life in the first world and the lack of understanding about the scope of the AIDS pandemic. The Brits were part of a tour group that stops in Vryheid to tour the Anglo Boer War battlefields. They were incredulous when we explained our work as Peace Corps volunteers at Mountain High Hospital. “Are there really people sick with AIDS in this country” was their query. They had been in South Africa for two weeks and had no inkling of the ravages of this disease. In contrast, the disease came even closer than the patients whom I only know as sick people. A handsome heavyset hospital driver who charmed everyone with his clownish personality has grown very thin and come down with pneumonia. An office mate has lost weight drastically and is on ARVs. Both of these men are my friends and I am hurt as their countenance is gloomy and their eyes have lost their sparkle. Who is next to be emaciated, plagued with skin ailments, mouth sores and severe diarrhea? AIDS seems to zap one’s personality as people in their prime years (25years to 40) become literal skeletons of their former selves. All South Africans should be tested, if only to reduce the stigma. Fear of being labeled as HIV positive prevents people from being tested. Without a test they cannot obtain the ARV’s that will keep them healthy and productive.

Test Market

2007-11-06T20:26:00.000+02:00

Going retail is not so easy as I discovered today when I took the stash of 100 fleece hats and scarves to the only local place of trade- Pension Day at Mountain High. For the last two weeks the Peace Corps funded sewing machines have been cranking out the fleece – hats and scarves in all sizes and prints with even dull navy for the school set. The endeavor is to make the Occupational Therapy Program at Mountain High Hospital sustainable after the Peace Corps volunteers go home. Selling 1500 hats and 1000 scarves before Winter (March 2008) would create a fund that will pay for the Volunteer Coordinator and handcraft materials for the AIDs patients for the future. Without a sustainability program, the patients, who are confined here for 3 months, will have nothing to do with their long days and may abscond.

The hats have unique finishing touches like pom poms or tailored buttons and are a great bargain at R10 for adult and R8 for the kids. ($1.50, $1.10). So with high hopes and boxes of newly created chapeau, I headed off to the Pension Day melee held at a tuck shop/liquor store 3km from the hospital.

A word about Pension Day! In South Africa the retired, disabled and unemployed mothers of small children must physically present themselves to a neighborhood site and sign for their stipends. Pension Day brings out the hawkers and thieves so the event is well attended by the marketeers ( including Mountain High Hospital with fleece treasures) and those wanting to take advantage of the populace receiving their pensions plus a coterie of welfare workers and security guards. Pension distribution points in very rural areas, such as our home, are defined by geographic features including large trees, creeks, or tuck shops. (very small mini marts). This seemed like a good place to test the market for the fleece hats, not to mention that the pensioners have cash in hand and come ready to spend at the displays set up on the ground around the distribution points. Pension Day is unmistakable in South Africa as a cow pasture next to a large tree is taken over by entrepreneurs selling fresh fruit, sewing supplies, underwear, children’s school uniforms, and always muti (herbal medicines).

The forum for the first sale of the fleece product seemed perfect – close to home, an audience that would be familiar with the Hospital, buyers with cash in hand, and cold weather to boost sales. However, the cold weather turned very wet early in the day. The Volunteer Coordinator showed up but had to go home with the flu and the day grew colder and stormier. The Jabule group had a Bingo Game as planned but many patients stayed in their beds on this cold wet day. I was not to be deterred from my test market and at 1 pm jumped at the chance for transport to the Pension Point, loaded with boxes and bags of hats and scarves.

By the time we arrived at the small tuck shop the rain was coming down in torrents and I was unwilling to join the hawkers with their wares laid on tarps next to the dirt road leading to the tuck shop as I did not want to get sopping wet and ruin the my stock. The driver let me off in front of the tuck shop. I grabbed the two boxes, one plastic bag of goods and the black plastic chair that I planned to use for display and ran into the small covered porch in front of the tuck shop. There was just enough room for the chair and me to stand in the crowd enjoying pension day. Unfortunately the tuck shop shares the porch with the only liquor store in the area and the patrons were already feeling the joys of Pension Day. I set up my small sign and samples of the beautiful fleece. Several well juiced young men sauntered up to see what was up. Trouble!!! The young men brought out the young women who started to titter. Flashes of fleece bolted before my eyes. Gales of laughter belted out. This was not the target market or optimal market conditions. One young man started a conversation about the hats while another skirted around the side. Finally, a go-go walked up and told me to stack all of the merchandise and put it back in the plastic bag. She helped me load in back into the containers and told me that she was the mother of the young girl who had tried to teach me Zulu a year ago when we first came to South Africa. She then held up the hats and made two sales. A man came forward and greeted me as Jabule, my nickname meaning happiness. He had been a patient at the hospital a few months ago and participated in the handcrafts program. Of course he was not interest in purchasing any fleece as weekly he sewed his own hats and scarves but his kindness was appreciated in this audience. After an hour, only a few more hats were sold. The driver from the Hospital appeared and it was time to go. I loaded my stock in the back of the pick-up and headed home. At the gate the driver stopped to let off some passengers. After he parked in the grounds I tried to retrieve my remaining stock of hats and scarves and discovered that one box was missing. The driver shook his head and pointed back to the gate. I ran to the gate and found the box sitting in the mud with the lid off. All of the hats were intact inside.

So how does the income generation project look at the end of this stormy day?
I believe my location was not the best as it was in direct competition with liquor sales but the afternoon was certainly a learning experience. Never do this as a solo! Never do this on a stormy day! Never get near liquor sales! And for sure try again as the fleece products were initiated by the local populace and meet a need.

Fog Blog

2007-10-28T22:31:00.000+02:00

This week was a lesson in P and F (patience and flexibility), the buzzwords of Peace Corps Existence. After a beautiful spring day last Sunday, the mountain turned into cold fog and mist. The view into the valley was a solid grey wall, revealing none of the life or sound in the kraals below. Each day, the moist air seemed to get heavier and colder as the dank wind blew through our flat and office. The air was so damp that even the duct tape we used to seal the windows slid down the window sill. We opened the curtains each morning hoping for a break in the fog so that we could get our washing done and the clothes would dry but the fog would not let up. Our Saturday trip to town turned sour as we missed the 6am taxi and had to hike to the tar road to hitch a ride or hope for the bus. All passing taxis were full and no one would stop for the strangers waiting by the side of the road so by 1030am we walked back to the Hospital to settle down for the day. Locals accept the vagaries of transportation and take the delays in stride and with good humor but us Americans think about wasted time and are annoyed with changed plans.

Amazingly we had a great afternoon in spite of the change in plans. The space radio was working in the fog so we were able to catch NPR radio shows including Click N Clack Car talk and Punchline. Surely passing patients wondered about the gales of laughter emanating from the flat behind the business office. This morning (Sunday) turned out bright and sunny so we tried again to head to town and caught a taxi on the tar road minutes after putting our index finger into the air bidding for a ride. Public transportation is doable-it is just uncertain and one has to be prepared to wait or give up when it just isn’t going to happen. The sad fact is that many unemployed people living here at Mountain High could get decent jobs in town but they cannot get reliable transportation to the job and there is no housing for them in town. So intelligent, capable men and women remain unemployed and unable to support their families.

The hat marathon is underway in earnest. By Friday 60 hats were sewn and ready to hit the market. By Friday afternoon the staff had scarfed up over 20 hats and were asking for more. (Of course some sales were IOU and some were layaways, known here as laybyes). But the enthusiasm is building and next week we will hit the pensioner market. Who knows, maybe even the taxi rank!!

Beading, Hats and Hikes at Mountain High

2007-10-22T19:02:00.000+02:00

Hats Are Happening at Mountain High

2007-10-22T18:30:00.000+02:00

This week started the campaign for sustainability of the occupational therapy program at Mountain View Hospital-Can income or funds be generated to keep the AIDS patient’s handcrafts going after we finish our service? To date around 300 patients have participated in the Jabule (Happiness) Sizabuntu Helping Project by learning dressmaking skills, beading a necklace, making a pair of sandals from black rubber soles, attending a cooking lesson or just playing bingo for the fun of it.

So how does a US Peace Corps volunteer make a US supported program for AIDS patients continue after the US money is gone and the Americans hurry home to resume their lives in Palos Verdes. The answer is HATS! Or at least this is the plan. For one year the beautiful fleece hats and scarves hand sewn by the patients have been the envy of the staff and visitors. Originally I envisioned selling the exotic Zulu beaded jewelry to provide funds for more beads and fabric but have since learned the age old problem with a product-Where is the market? However, all Zulus love warm fleece hats and scarves when Winter comes and they will pay for style and color. So with the help of the two sewing machines provided by US grant money a sewing marathon has begun to produce 1500 fleece hats with jaunty trims and 1000 matching scarves. The hats and scarves will be sold at pension distribution points and in local towns for R10 ($1.50) which will provide a profit of R6 to keep the program going.

A test market sample of 100 hats and scarves was underway this week. The Jabule Volunteer is anxiously awaiting the results of the sales campaign. What will be the big seller- The cute blue teddy bears or the Burberry knockoff plaid. What about the girly green and purple abstract stripes or the he-man blue, rust and diamonds? Are the hats beguiling enough to make the grandmothers (gogos) part with their scarce funds for a winsome chapeau for their favorite toddler? Will the cash generated be enough to employ the local manager of the program and provide craft materials for the patients? Is the price too low or too high? This experience is a lesson is starting up a small business and has all of the pitfalls of new businesses. However it also has the joy and creativity of making something from nothing, filling a need in the community and teaching a skill to people who want to learn.

Spring came to Mountain High this month! The hills are green as green can be. The Acacias are budding, the green grass is wet and heavy with dew and flowers are pushing their way up through the green carpet. Spring and summer bring the mist to the mountain but also the long-awaited moisture to the empty water spigots and gardens that were recently planted. A hike through the valley today was a very different experience than the last hike in July (Winter). Today the cows were munching the new grass and the matrons were gathered at the water faucets with their buckets. At last the water flows freely from the spigots - they are in a very good mood as it is a beautiful spring day in KwaZuluNatal. Likewise South Africa is also celebrating their green and gold win over Great Britain in yesterday’s rugby match!

Training at the Honeymoon Lodge

2007-10-14T11:16:00.000+02:00

It is Sunday and we have returned to Vryheid as the last leg in our 3 day journey to return to Mountain High Hospital after a week of Peace Corps training at the Honeymoon Lodge in Polokwane (capital of Limpopo, the northern province of South Africa). The Honeymoon Lodge was an appropriate venue as the setting was quite romantic with candlelight for several hours each day due to power failures. Ironically, most of our NGO Capacity Building Group of 30 volunteers are beautiful young women who were not impressed with the romance of the Honeymoon Lodge. The training was the mid-service component with updates on HIV AIDS in South Africa from the CDC and a glimpse into the lives of the other volunteers, professionally and personally.

Most of the volunteers have suffered from the mid-service slump and burnout. They told stories of being shot at in Durban and having the pellet removed, muggings in fancy neighborhoods in broad daylight, being robbed at Backpackers hostels, and Rohypnol lacing of drinks in a college town drinking hole. They also shared their disappointments and failures with their efforts to help the NGO’s and start up new AIDS programs. They have all experienced loneliness, cynicism and boredom. However, the group also discussed their successes with OVC drop in centers and feeding programs, production of an AIDS testing video for distribution in the high schools, lifeskills and empowerment programs for teenagers, computer training for boys in a sports program, and upgrading of administrative abilities at the NGOs. The young women who initially were coquettish people pleasers have matured into thoughtful, focused individuals who know who they are and can deal with unwanted attention and daily marriage proposals. All of us expressed resolve and determination to finish our service and to make the remaining months significant and productive. Brendon and I discussed not only trying to make our current projects sustainable, but seeking out a secondary project that would help the AIDS orphans in our community on a daily basis. We drew strength from the other volunteers as it is only another volunteer who understands the difficulties and triumphs of this remarkable journey.

The nurse from the CDC presented an overview of the current status of HIV/AIDs in South Africa. The good news is that the precipitous climb in infection rates (20% for all of South Africa, 40% for the pregnant women in KwaZuluNatal) is finally leveling off. When we arrived last July there was no end in sight and dire predictions were being made that the infection rate could climb to 50% or higher. The other piece of good news is that the infection rates among those under 20 years have dropped significantly. The lifeskills programs in the schools teaching critical thinking and decision making are credited for the big drop among teenagers. The bad news is that the rates shoot way up as soon as the teenagers leave home for university or jobs. Another aspect is the huge number of immigrants that are fleeing crises in their homeland. South Africa is absorbing many of the refugees from Zimbabwe and their lives are in chaos as they build shanty towns and form new alliances, contributing to the AIDS crisis.

The training was filled with laughter and gallows humor but also respect and awe for other volunteers that are very special people and are committed to using their skills to help this country. The three simple goals of the Peace Corps have not changed in 50 years: provide skills to countries that need help; develop understanding for the country; and help the country to understand America. We have learned so much about South Africa. What have they learned about America from us?

Spring Break at Kruger-Pics

2007-10-07T21:01:00.000+02:00

SpringBreak-Hyenas at the Watering Hole

2007-10-06T17:48:00.000+02:00

Our goal this week was to travel the length of Kruger National Park as we took leave from Mountain High Hospital with our son Erik. We also sought fine game spotting and the joys of life in the Bush. The Park is approximately 200 miles long, consisting of different ecosystems every 30 miles or so. So driving through the park is like traveling through thick acacia woodland, savannah, rocky red sandstone outcrops, riverine, mopane groves and grassland.

We entered the Park at the South end through the Numbi gate and headed for Pretorioskop Bush Camp, our home for a few nights while we toured the south end of Kruger. What a shock to see that much of the terrain in the lower half of the park had been scorched to the earth in the tremendous July fire. Being cut off from the media, we had no inkling of the fire’s extent, burning every tree and blade of grass to char. In some of the most devastated areas, shoots of grass were noted sprouting up in the blackened earth and impalas beginning to graze on the new grass. However it appears that even the seeds in other areas were destroyed in this horrific fire. We found routes that avoided the fire’s fury and enjoyed viewing lions at a waterhole, white rhinos feasting on the grasses, herds of cape buffalo grazing, six rare sable buck eating new shoots of grass and even a leopard sitting on the road during an evening game drive.

Pretorioskop Bush Camp has it own charms as impalas, wart hogs, vervet monkeys enter the camp daily to feast on the grass parklands and entertain the guests. A unique feature of the camp is its bare rock swimming pool which was refreshing on a hot day after game viewing.

Kruger’s Numbi Gate at the south end is a short drive to Blyde River Canyon in the Drakensburg Mountains. Blyde River Canyon is the South African equivalent of the Grand Canyon and certainly its equal in spectacle and magnificence. The canyon starts as a small river gouging out round “potholes” in the rocks with swirling eddies. Twenty miles away the river has cut a canyon miles deep with rounded Rondaval forms, red rock tables and dense vegetation The snaking of the river is visible far below the viewing point. The Panorama drive includes several waterfalls and stops in pleasant tourist towns with old pioneer re-creations and great locally grown coffee and pancakes.

However, the most fun was driving the length of the park, viewing the terrain and watching the game roll out. About two hours from Pretoriokop the parades of elephants began with the females and babies traveling in a train and the bulls solitarily gorging on trees by the road. Viewing game at this close distance brings awe and some anxiety to the viewer. Elephants are known to become angry and attack vehicles when they are disturbed or threatened. Their tusks can easily penetrate the side of a car. The situation seems benign but there is an element of fear. Baboons appeared in tandem with the elephants as the troupes ran along the road with the babies hanging onto the mother’s bellies. They are charming to watch but can also be very dangerous when aroused.

A side trip to a watering hole brought the drama of a lifetime! A flurry of fur and activity were spotted at the edge of the watering hole. Six spotted hyenas were pulling at the carcass of a male kudu with the giant spiral horn jutting boldly into the air. Ten brown vultures lay in wait for their turn at the kill. Every few minutes a vulture would venture closer to the carcass-a hyena would then charge toward the vulture and force them back to wait. The hyenas grew hot as they worked at meat pawing and clawing. They jumped into the watering hole and splashed with glee just like dogs at the beach. Then back to work. Off in the distance a stork waited for its turn to enter the watering hole but was no competition for the hyenas and vultures. One brassy hyena got hold of a Kudu leg and tromped off into the bush with his luscious treat leaving the others to push pull and grab. Then splash down to cool off in the muddy water.

Our destination for exploring the northern half of the park was Mopani Bush Camp, named after the mopane trees that cover the landscape. Accommodations consisted of a self catering thatched rock house with full kitchen, sleeping for 6 and a covered patio. The camp is situated above a dam where game come to drink and hippos lounge in the dirt. The camp is the real mopane bush with an electrified fence around. It felt and smelt like the bush as opposed to the older Pretorioskop in the south with grass parklands inside the game fence.

Game viewing from the car or jeep is fun but the sights, smells and feel of the bush demand that one hit the dirt. The national parks offer day hikes in the bush accompanied by nattily dressed naturalists armed with rifles, just in case. So at 5am we headed off in a jeep with two naturalists and two rifles to experience the bush on foot. We drove a few miles from the bush camp, crossing a river with crocodiles swimming through the water and a hippo clan dozing in the center, looking like rounded rocks. As we got out of the jeep a twinge of fear hit but also a sense that we finally had the opportunity to explore and experience the real bush in a slow way. The guide explained that we would walk single file in silence three hours through the bush and could click our fingers if we wanted any explanation of the flora or fauna. Hiking is my favorite pastime so this sounded like great fun. We set off down a riverbed next to the mopane trees. The landscape was dotted with termite mounds and dung of all sizes, shapes and freshness. Dirt for the termite mound is dug below the ground and combined with termite saliva. Then Amos, the senior naturalist, described the source of the dung (giraffe-small elegant; elephant-profuse, wet and fibrous; impala smaller and used as territorial markings) the significance, and the next customer who will use the fresh dung for food. The guides also tore off leaves from the bush plants to smell; one like cat urine, one sweet, and a wild mint. The guides knew the names and calls of every bird and their peculiar habits. The female lays her eggs and finds a new mate; the male guards the eggs. We walked by impalas who quickly ran away, scared by our scent. Ironically, the game are not intimidated by vehicles and are accustomed to the sound of the engines. Man on foot is another story.

Our guides took us to a small rocky mound where they pointed out a large grey object that looked like a rock in the distance. In fact it was an elephant and they turned toward the mark. We walked for about a quarter mile across the bush silent in our single file trek to the game. We came up on the bull elephant and its bull companion tearing mopane trees with their trunks and stuffing the branches and leaves into their mouths. This certainly was more thrilling and more ominous than viewing from a car. Plus the experience of walking through the bush and coming out of the trees upon these massive creatures eating and living their lives was both exciting and humbling. We watched in silence from 30 meters trying not to anger them or scare them. These were older bulls, massive in size. We headed off on our trek and sat down on some rocks for snacks. Off in the bush we spotted two hyenas darting off to find what they could scavenge for the day. They look and move like very large dogs with long fur and rounded features. We arrived back at the jeep and felt safe again to be protected by man’s inventions but missing the closeness to the earth and its smells and sounds.

After the game hike we tried another drive through the back treks of Mopane, crossing the Tropic of Capricorn line. The drive seemed insulated compared to the hike but when the stalking leopard crossed the road I was glad to be safe in the car. The back roads yielded beautiful birds; ostrich, ground hornbills, yellow hornbills, vultures and hammerkops. The delights of Kruger are too numerous to mention. Last year the sight of an impala or zebra was enough to titillate; after spotting leopard and hyenas devouring their kill one realizes that man is easily jaded and always looks to the next level for excitement.

Weskus Wonders-pics

2007-10-01T11:34:00.000+02:00

Weskus Wonders

2007-09-29T10:22:00.001+02:00

The Bond’s hit the road again to celebrate Heritage Day and the annual flower explosion on the West Coast of South Africa. Timing for the flower event is a bit tricky as the best viewing changes from year to year and on cloudy days the flowers fold up. We flew to Cape Town after attending the 10th Anniversary of the Peace Corps in South Africa and the new volunteer’s swearing in ceremony in Pretoria. A great kick-off for the botanical tour of the West Coast was a stop at Kirstenbosch Botanical Gardens in Cape Town, a world heritage site. The garden starts low and extends up the side of Table Mountain with acres of protea, succulents, cycads, fynbos and wildflowers, all in bloom. What is your favorite protea? The tiny red pin cushions, the vibrant orange and yellow or the obscene pale pink King with large beetles consuming its pollen? The panorama of Cape Town unfolds as one strolls up the grand grey mountainside.

We headed for the West Coast with no plans or itinerary. However the stay provided a rich assortment of sights and entertainment. The West Coast of South Africa is scenic, unspoiled and lovely. It reminded me so much of the Central coast of California with huge stretches of sand dunes, wildflowers, wild bluffs, breakers and little development. I felt at home and at peace in our small cottage by the sea in the fishing village of Paternoster, named after the prayer said by all fishermen as they go to sea. Paternoster is a 2 hour drive north west from Cape Town along the coast, going through wetlands, very small villages and unspoiled beaches. Paternoster is composed of whitewashed cement houses with tin roofs that look directly out unto the bay and sand dunes. The beach is covered with white and black clam shells that break down into fine sand. Hot pink wildflowers with black centers provide gaudy decorations for the scrub growing in the dunes. The beautiful beach is perfect for long walks to look for right whales, and enjoy the surf and the interesting white rock formations in the bay. After being confused for a year by the sunsets on the east coast of Africa, the sun set over the ocean providing beautiful sunsets and a sense of familiarity for a homesick So Cal Gal.

Paternoster was a great base for exploring the Weskus (West Coast). The first day was spent seeing the miles and miles of wildflowers and beach at the West Coast National Park. Yellows, purples, pinks, whites and oranges in beautiful tapestries silhouetting the rolling hillsides and beach. The northwest corner of the park known as the Postberg is open only during flower season. The fields of flowers are accented by the huge breakers crashing against the rocks in this rugged area.

Sunday we stumbled on the Cultivara Festival in Paarl. This is a three day festival of the arts combined with a food and wine festival. (a great play on this wine production area and the arts). We missed the Messiah by University of Stellenbosch but were able to get tickets to see the Two Blondes, Beethoven to Abba. The two fair haired damsels played classical and popular hits on two matching grand pianos with a running commentary in Afrikaans. Great listening and great music! We headed over to the Food and Wine tent after the piano concert for some live jazz, west coast wine tasting, chicken curry and strawberries with wonderful thick cream that has no rival in the US. The whole town of Paarl is used as a venue for the festival; the piano concert was held in the auditorium of the police academy. Paarl is named for the rounded granite peaks that surround the city that in certain light look like pearls.

Heritage Day (Sept. 24) produced surprise entertainment in Darling (wildflower central) and a confirmation that one person can change the world for the better, albeit in a quirky way. Pieter-Dirk Uys holds stage in the Darling train station (Afrikaans Perron) as Evita se Perron with satire that helped bring down Aparthied. He has daily shows with his monologue about world politics and injustice, always peppered with plenty of humor. He is dressed in full formal drag and is convincing as the saucy aunt that tells it like it is. Some of his best quotes “Apartheid is the pigment of the imagination”, “Hypocrisy is the Vaseline of political intercourse” , “The Future is Certain, the Past is Unpredictable.”

The Cederburg Mountains loom and beckon to the north of Paternoster so our last day was spent driving to the Cederburg for a rugged drive through the peaks and a hike to view the San cave paintings. The dirt road traversed wild geologic formations to a high plain where the caves were found. The four km trail leads to 10 cave sites with painting of mythical people and animals. Amazingly they resembled the cave painting we viewed in the Drakensburg Mountains 1000 km distant. The viewing is like a treasure hunt- the stone walls are intimately examined until the forms take their shape. Many of the paintings have several figures superimposed on each other. Dates are between 200 and 3000 years old. The San people were killed with just a few survivors remaining and very little known about the ancient culture or the significance of the man-beast forms. However, it is great fun to explore the caves and hunt for the treasure.

This trip had no preplanned itinerary or must-do requirements. It may be that the Peace Corps experience has taught that serendipity can be the most rewarding experience in life. The flowers may have been a little late for best viewing but we had a ball! We look forward to a trip next week to Kruger National Park with our son Erik for game spotting. Keep you posted!

Transport Blues and Bodies

2007-09-16T08:32:00.000+02:00

One might think it is depressing living and working in a hospital for AIDS. Actually one hears very little whining and a lot of laughter. And some of the incidences involving death are outrageously funny. So I apologize for the following stories from our lives. They are not meant to disrespect the dead, only to pass on the absurdity of life and death here in KwaZuluNatal.
The Zulu culture places great emphasis on respect for the death and burial rituals. Cremation does not seem to exist in our area; the dead are given decent funerals (which are very costly to the families), buried, mourned with families wearing black for a month and a stone laid on the grave in a formal ceremony. The AIDS epidemic has created a huge industry for dealing with the dead. Tombstone stores crop up in minimalls next to bakeries. Companies that deal in cement and construction supplies open up side businesses to manufacture the gravestones. Zulus that spend their lives riding in crowded 16 passenger taxis (often loaded with 19) finally are treated to a ride in a white Mercedes hearse for the final trip to their resting place if the family can afford the cost. If not they hire a driver and pickup truck with a small coffin sized trailer to transport their loved one to the burial ground.
Transport issues oversee the length of one’s life here in Zululand. From birth to death transport is always a problem. Critically ill patients are transferred from Mountain High Hospital to a better equipped public hospital in Vryheid when they need critical care. Some of the patients die down in the upgraded hospital. Thus the families have the problem of how to get the body back to this isolated rural mountain site when they have no car and limited financial means.
Three months ago a local family arranged to have a small pickup truck (with coffin trailer) bring back their dead relative to the valley 1000ft below Mountain High Hospital The dirt road from the paved road to the Hospital is tricky to navigate and bare rock in one area but the next section that goes from the Hospital over the mountain and down to the valley is tortuous in its steep slippery grade, rough rocks and potholes. The truck and small coffin sized trailer picked up the corpse in town and had no problem transversing the road to the hospital. However, the wheel got stuck in one of the potholes and it could not go down the mountain. The driver and helper tried to dig the truck free and in doing so the trailer came loose and flew down the mountain, hitting the driver, who was seriously injured and was the second casualty in that brigade. Irony was that he brought to Mountain High for first aid and then had to be transported down to the hospital in Vryheid for his injuries.
On Friday, I inquired whether a driver was going to town - the night duty nurses were urgently asking for flashlights (power was out on Thurs. night with no relief in sight). Toner for the printer had run out and the payroll needed to be printed. The driver was noncommittal in his answer as to whether he was in fact headed to town. He asked me to follow him to the hospital pickup truck and take a look. I headed over to the loading area by the gate and immediately understood his dilemma. A white coffin was parked at a 45 degree angle sticking up 2 feet over the tailgate in the back of the pickup. It was too long to fit into the bed of the truck. The driver stated that he had orders to go to Vryheid to pick up a corpse and return it back to our site. B The driver was agitated and did not want to buy flashlights or toner with the corpse tilted in the back of the truck. A suggestion that he run the business errands first and then pick up the body was not well received. A quick search was made of the laundry room and stores to find a plastic tarp to cover the white coffin, whose identity was plain and clear to any passersby. The driver was concerned that he might hit a bump and lose his cargo. Plenty of rope and a few words of encouragement were uttered for his task.
In many ways life here is very similar to life in the 1950’s when not everyone had a car and you were dependent on your neighbors and friends to help with transportation, shortages and family crises. Although local residents squabble among themselves they are quick to forgive and forget as tomorrow they will need each other for urgent needs.

Zulu Reed Dance Photos

2007-09-09T23:22:00.000+02:00

Reed Dance

2007-09-09T21:25:00.001+02:00

This weekend was the climax of Zulu cultural life in the 21st century with the Zulu King Goodwill holding the annual Reed Dance for Zulu Maidens in Southern Africa. This event has been going on for 23 years at his Kraal (ranch) close to Mountain High Hospital. Originally only 25-30 young girls danced with a bamboo pole in front of the king, showing their grace and beauty. He could select any of the maidens to be queens and they were locked into royalty for life. The King currently has 5 or 6 wives and does not seem to be actively interested in acquiring more, but one never knows. On Friday at work I teased my colleagues that if I did not show up on Monday, look for me at the Palace; maybe I got lucky!
What a surprise when we arrived at the Palace grounds and saw thousands of beautiful young girls milling around waiting for the events to begin. (Don’t worry Mountain High, I will be back at work on Monday morning-too much gorgeous competition from the young). They arrived by bus, taxi, private car and on foot from all over Southern Africa. (The King of Swaziland holds a similar event and now has 200 wives). Each girl makes her own costume out of beads, feathers, skins, Zulu fabric with the King’s face or whatever she and her friends cook up. Of course the costume does not require much material as it is bottoms only with a few beaded ornaments for the upper half. The girls are housed in huge tents for the two day event which had the atmosphere of the Rose Parade, beauty pageant, and revival meeting combined.
To see 5000 young girls begin marching in unison with their reeds held high singing a song of affirmation was truly a lifetime event. They danced in rows of 20 across waving their reeds as they became one entity that announced “We are Zulus and we are proud of our beautiful culture.” The parade continued for 2 hours as they swayed up the road to the palace and laid their reed at the king’s feet. They then danced down to the stadium where they danced again for the waiting crowd. Besides their bare chests they wore no shoes- the day was warm but their singing and swaying did not hesitate. At last all of the girls had finished their moment with the King and the program started.
The minister preached, the politicians spoke; the educators ranted and then King Goodwill took the podium. The speeches were empowerment messages for the girls. Stay AIDS FREE for life! Abstinence is Cool-Its Ok to Wait! So instead of this amazing gathering being a bacchanalian tribute to polygamy and the King’s powers, it has become a means of asserting and affirming the young girls. Every girl was viewed as a Zulu princess, possessing the intellect and self-esteem to become a respected member of the Zulu society. The speeches probably grew long for the girls and many were there for the fun of the day and the traditional dressing, but the collective power of so many sisters making a stand to develop their potential and stay AIDS free must make a big impact.
The logistics for the event were remarkable. The Kings Kraal is 20 miles from any town so transport had to be arranged for the girls, the families of the girls, the matrons that looked after and coached the girls on the dance and behavior required. As we sat waiting for the program to start, trucks arrived with 7 brown velvet wing chairs and 10 carved seats for the royal family. King Goodwill arrived attired in leopard skin and feathers as were the males in his entourage. He was educated at Oxford but speaks in simple Zulu with the message that the Zulu nation should be celebrated and that AIDS must be eliminated. After the speeches the girls danced again. A poignant moment was the dance by three of the King’s current wives in their elegant white brocade attire.
I was thrilled to be a witness to such an exciting, beautiful day. I was also encouraged as an individual actively involved in dealing with AIDS patients that the Zulu King has seized a cultural event to get the AIDS message out and put it into the hearts of these very young girls. His message was that each young girl should have a plan to stay AIDS FREE for life. The South African government provides financial support for the Zulu King but they are getting a great spokesman for the AIDS health messages as well as a classy statesman who sure knows how to put on a party! Sad that there were so few tourists in attendance as it was a unique view into this special place and the commitment that community leaders are making to combat AIDS in South Africa.

The Call

2007-09-02T22:10:00.000+02:00

This week was an affirmation of our Peace Corps Service but also a lesson in our limitations and weaknesses. Last weekend as stocks of fabrics grew thin for the occupational therapy program for patients at an AIDS hospital, I purchased many new fabrics in our shopping town. Monday is the sewing day for the Jabule group (occupational therapy) where the fabrics are chosen by the luck of the draw, patterns assembled and the fabrics cut to meet the requests of the patients. (hat, scarf, long or short skirt, t-shirt, pegs bag, cushion). The men meet from 9:30am to 10:30; the women then arrive till around 12:15 when lunch is served. I display the fabrics on the benches in the chapel, help them lay out the patterns on the fabrics and cut them on the floor to meet the customer’s request.

On Monday the men did not arrive at 9:30 am as they were late in receiving their medications. By 10 am they started to trickle in and took their time looking at the available handcraft project possibilities. Around 10:15am the women gathered at the windows of the chapel to see what the Jabule experience had to offer for Sewing Monday. (I had earlier told them that the Women’s group would start at 10:30am.) Promptly at 10:30 ten women entered the Chapel and in agitated, aggressive voices wanted to start their program and extricate the men. Fortunately, the Zulu volunteer assistant for the program was able to tell them to come back in 10 minutes when the men’s' requests for projects were fulfilled.

Ten minutes later the women showed up again at the door, this time greatly agitated and chanting in Zulu. I could not understand the words but clearly got the sentiment. One woman finally yelled in English “Women First!” I was floored by this rancorous response to the handcrafts project as each day and each week every person’ s request for craft supplies was handled by a picking a number and attention to their request. The women were slotted in the 10:30 hour because they receive their drugs at 9:30am and are not available until midmorning. I asked them for “Uxolo” (Peace) as this is the only Zulu word I know for harmony. Then I quickly asked the Zulu volunteer to tell them that peace must resume or we would close up for the day. He muttered something to the women and the handcrafts program finally began.

This was a cultural misunderstanding that I do not fully understand. Were the women truly agitated or were they just teasing me because the week before I suggested during the pizza cooking session that the women be served first. They women in Africa bear a tremendous burden as you often see them with the baby wrapped in a towel on their back and water or wood on their heads. They are generally submissive to demands from men which may be part of the gender issues causing the AIDS epidemic. I asked the male volunteer assistant why the women were agitated and he answered “Angawz” (I don’t know).

So with this rocky start for the week I thought about my place and purpose in South Africa. I began to understand the patient’s impatience to start the Jabule program and their promised handcrafts and sewing projects. What if an American was sent to an isolated rural hospital with limited recreation opportunities? Or were the female patients just having a good joke?

This brought to mind the reason why we are here in South Africa. Our service has many ups and downs but even in the deepest downs there is a conviction that we are needed here. Last weekend I received a request to explain the “Call of God” from some boys in my church in Palos Verdes. The following summarizes my experience with the “Call”:

In the early 60’s President John F. Kennedy started the Peace Corps with the caveat, “Ask not what your country can do for you, but what you can do for your country”. As a little girl I was interested in the Peace Corps as the media was full of information about this new government program. I was not able to join until I finished college, worked for the Calif. Health Dept, raised two sons and retired but I kept Peace Corps Service in the back of my mind as a future possibility and followed the progress of the organization.

God’s call has come to me throughout my life as a whisper in my ear and a steady voice that says “You should do this” whenever an opportunity for service has come along. The call has a persistence coupled with open doors that enable the service to happen.

My interest in international mission service was piqued by hearing stories from missionaries as a young girl, the opportunity to travel, love of adventure, and the mission program at St. Peters by the Sea Presbyterian Church. When retirement came early, I sought a way of using the free time and my skills to help others. Christian service is the opportunity to use the creativity and imagination that one possesses for blessing and pleasure to give meaning to life.

The process of applying and being accepted to the Peace Corps was a challenge that took two years. Some of their requirements were medical, dental, financial and legal clearances as well as interviews and recommendations. At one point an obstacle was their requirement that my wisdom teeth be removed and an oral surgeon refusing to take them out due to risk. Other difficulties were getting rid or storing all of our belongings including our vehicles, renting our house, finding a place for our son to live, and arranging for management of our finances. We also had to say goodbye to our family, friends and neighbors for two years. However, the tasks were not too onerous and God provided steady wisdom, guidance and peace of mind through the process by that quiet voice.

The doubts we had about joining the Peace Corps or completing the service are better defined as concerns that we are up to the task, we can stay healthy and we can help South Africa. When the water or electricity does not work or we have no transportation it is easy to think of America and the comfortable life in Palos Verdes. However, God has given us a sense that we are in the right place and doing meaningful work. We trust him every day to give us the courage and strength to fulfill that day’s service and a positive spirit of love for the Zulu people.

What's Ahead-Zulu Tutor and His Challenges

2007-08-26T18:26:00.000+02:00

We are now on the downward half of our two years of service; around July 2007 we will be heading home to resume our lives in Palos Verdes. The next year we will be making plans for our future lives-Will we go back to work? Will we find meaning in middle class life? Can we relearn how to drive on the right and look left when crossing the street? Will we get lost in our suburban house? Has the neighborhood changed? More important than our readjustment back to American is the sustainability of the work we have done. Will the hospital continue with the Occupational Therapy program? Are additional camps for AIDS orphans and vulnerable children in the wings for this beautiful site? Many returned Peace Corps volunteers say that as soon as they left their host country, their projects withered on the vine.
In that effort, thoughts are directed toward how the occupational therapy program can continue and flourish after our service is complete. One step has been accomplished to assist in the task- an assistant occupational therapy organizer came to work as a volunteer this month. Since the program started last Dec. I have been looking for someone to help with the daily program, learn to teach the beading, sewing and shoemaking skills and later manage the program. An added plus is that the volunteer assistant is a sorely needed job in this community. After talking with many candidates who showed initial interest but did not come to work, a 27 year old man came forward and is up to the task. He helps me set up the daily activities with Monday sewing projects, Tuesday bingo, Wednesday beading, Thursday shoemaking and leather work and Friday cooking instruction. He is also very good with the patients and is learning all of the skills. Plus he can translate when hand motions and pointing are not effective.
The plan for sustainability arose from the requests and demands from the patients for fleece hats and scarves. Initially the Jabule (happiness and blessings) Occupational Therapy drew mainly women together to sew and have a time of sharing. As soon as the weather turned cold, I introduced patterned fleece (plaids, geometrics, Ferrari cars) that could be sewn into hats and slippers. The fleece was a big hit with the women and each sewing day the fleece was the first fabric to run out. One morning 8 male patients came to the business office and requested that they be given fleece to sew warm hats. Thus their program began in earnest with the men meeting together before the women. One enterprising man asked to make a fringed scarf out of the fleece. After that almost every ambulatory male arrived requesting fleece to sew into hats and scarves. A meter of fleece can make 9 hats or 6 scarves. Thus the idea has taken hold that before next winter hats and scarves could be made in bulk and sold in local towns and at pension points. The profits could then be channeled into a stipend for the volunteer manager and purchase of materials to keep the program going.
Even if our projects are not sustainable, a few people will remember us after we go, namely our Zulu teach Gobese. For six months after we arrived at Mountain High we sought a Zulu teacher to improve our effectiveness. Teachers at the local high school and primary school were approached but they could not be motivated by the wage of $1.50 per hour and the difficulty of dealing with foreigners. Nurses and staff were approached but there were no takers. Finally while waiting for the bus to our shopping town I approached a high school student who had a big smile, confidence and perfect English. He agreed to teach us Zulu but like the others, did not arrive on the appointed day. (He later said he thought we were kidding and that hospital managers from America did not usually want a high school student to teach them English). I saw him on the road several weeks later and told him we were serious about learning Zulu and that he could help us. So in February we began tutoring sessions with an 11th grade high school student. He comes to our flat two days a week and teaches, cajoles, teases, jokes, reprimands, charms, entertains and goes to the utmost extremes to drive the Zulu into the heads of two old people. He doesn’t understand that repetition is the name of the game and tries to introduce new vocabulary and scenarios to students that promptly forgot the previous lesson. Zulu has 16 noun classes; all verbs, adjectives and pronouns must be in concord with the noun. Progress is very slow but he never gives up. He started bringing his chemistry homework for assistance and the reality of education in South Africa hit us hard. (Ironically the local high school is one of the best with 100% passing rate). He does not have a text book, only a worksheet for chemistry lab. However there is no chemistry lab (nor library nor computers/internet) so the results of the lab sheet must be worked out on paper (we used to call this dry labbing). He never gets discouraged at the lack of resources-he just plunges ahead, tried his best and asks for help from any resource. He was the star on the debate team but had to research his topic by asking questions and opinions of those around him. These new ambitious and energetic students are the hope for South Africa. They have seen the destruction of AIDS and apartheid in their parents lives and they are determined to have better lives and build this new nation.

Photos from St. Lucia, Umfolozi Game Park

2007-08-25T22:02:00.000+02:00

Face of AIDS in South Africa

2007-08-19T22:43:00.000+02:00

KZN (province of KwaZuluNatal) is a gorgeous region for Peace Corps Service-beaches, Zulu culture, fantastic mountain ranges and sunsets, mild climate, and several World Heritage Sights. This week we returned from a long weekend in St. Lucia where AIDS in Africa did not enter our minds. However the return to the Hospital on Monday brought the AIDS epidemic close and jarring.

On Monday two boys that are both twelve years of age and have been patients for 3 months were discharged. They have participated in the Jabule handcrafts program and made wire cars, beading projects and shoes. Initially they were silent but after several weeks started speaking in lucid English. They were always big winners at Bingo on Tuesdays. I was elated that they were cured of their TB and could go back home and resume schooling. One of the boys came to me and told me that he was going home. I told him that I was so happy that he could go back to his village and be with his parents. He started to get very emotional and stated that he loved being at Mountain High Hospital and that he was very sad to go home. His father is very sick with AIDS and his mother cannot take care of the family. I initially had difficulty understanding how two boys could be sent to an adult hospital but changed my views when I saw how the staff and patients cared for the boys, who appeared much younger than their 12 years. The two boys became great pals over the course of their treatment and never whined about their confinement. AIDS is a social disease in Africa and affects every family member.

A ward assistant (nurse’s aide) in her thirties died this week and a spokesperson for the ward assistants collected money from all staff to pay for taxi rides to the funeral. No one would speak of the cause of death or the circumstances. Friends, relatives and coworkers “Pass Away” and people grieve.

A staff member who is HIV positive announced that she is pregnant. She is having a baby to leave something “Behind” when she gets sick.

A patient that has been crocheting squares for Afghans for the hospital beds as part of the Handcrafts project died. Each week as she came to the Jabule group she was weaker and thinner with the last week showing up in a wheel chair as one of the male patients wheeled her in to participate. She asked for more yarn to complete the Afghans a few days before she died. She was a beautiful young woman in her 20’s with determination and courage but the disease sapped her strength and being. At the end she just wanted to crochet the beautiful squares for the beds.

Bingo is a big hit here on Tuesdays with 10 men and 20 women participating. This week a nursing instructor wheeled three patients into the bingo melee to take their minds off their illness and have some fun. One of the women arrived leaning on a cane and the nursing instructor’s arm but grabbed a bingo card and won the first round. A few minutes later another patient was arrived in a wheel chair and also had beginner’s luck and won on the first round.
Friday is Cooking Lessons for the patients and this weeks menu was American pizza with groans when the garlic burned in the olive oil but rave reviews at the final product. Zulus love slapstick humor and enjoyed seeing the pizza dough stetched “Luci” style to fit the pan.

No Opportunity for silliness or entertainment goes wasted here at Mountain High. Bingo Games need break times and laughter which was provided by teaching the patients the Hokey Pokey and the B I N G O song this week. Of Course “See You Later Alligator, After While Crocodile” is also a big hit and especially appropriate after seeing crocs more than 140 years old in St. Lucia last weekend. Wish I could take the patients out for a weekend!

St. Lucia Weekend

2007-08-14T21:55:00.000+02:00

Last week’s blog recounted my embarrassment when I was alarmed at the fire along the dirt road leading to my home in Kwa Zulu Natal, Mountain High Hospital. Ironically, the fires and wind were in fact true menaces that destroyed thousands of cattle and trees while we were gone during our trip to the Northwest Province last week. For three days the Hospital was without power as the wind blew down trees, power and telephone lines and the fire raged through Zululand. Fortunately the Hospital buildings and land were not harmed but the staff was worn out by the ordeal and told of their frustrations living without power or phones for three days when we returned. This week has been an effort and exercise in creating fire breaks around the property.

This weekend we are in St. Lucia, a UN World Heritage Site, to celebrate Women’s Day August 8. By taking one leave day on Friday, we are able to have a four day weekend in this wetland which encompasses five ecosystems including estuary, ocean beach, Game Park, sand dune and river. The small town of St. Lucia is situated on a narrow peninsula between the Indian Ocean and Lake St. Lucia, an estuary with hippos and crocodiles its native inhabitants. One can view the hippos from the shore or take a boat ride to their favorite hideouts along the mangrove estuary. Hippos take shelter in the water by day and run ashore at night to feed on grass. Reportedly, hippos have been seen running down the streets of this small tourist town and are unstoppable in their chosen path. Baby hippos will ride on their mothers back in the water. Crocodiles as old as 140 years lounge along the sides of the estuary, content in their place in this grand ecosystem.

The game preserve is a fantastic site with palm and acacia studded hillsides sheltering impalas, zebras, nyala, and waterbuck. Our game drive through the preserve was rewarded with a sighting of a new rhino mother and baby tagging behind. The baby grew impatient with the mother’s speed and leapt ahead, splashing mud at her mother. Just before exiting a herd of Cape buffalo was spotted near the road grazing on the new green grass. They are magnificent animals with broad curled horns and huge black bodies.

St. Lucia is a tourist town like Carmel in California but on a much smaller scale. It can only be reached by crossing one bridge so it is somewhat cut off from the rest of Africa. From the water it is invisible as it has no tall buildings and the estuary and ocean have no commercial buildings. The guide on the boat stated that a study was done to determine whether to develop titanium or tourism in the area and the outcome was that tourism would be more profitable and create more jobs. The town has a bird preserve and many parks with tropical vegetation. An African pleasure is to walk through the bird preserve, listen for the bird calls and quietly look for the bird lodged in the tree above the trail.

In town I gained a personalized Beading class as a kind Zulu woman at the Crafts shelter took the time to teach me the more intricate beading stitches. She demonstrated the beautiful lattice work in black, gold, off white and brown small beads and then watched as I tried to recreate her stitches. Both of us beamed up in delight when the student caught on to the master’s instruction and true learning had occurred.

We left St. Lucia by way of the famous Umfolozi Game Park and were rewarded with close game viewing of White Rhinos, a herd of Cape Buffalos, Waterbuck, families of Giraffes, Nyala, assorted buck and warthog-bush pig but who can tell the difference? The game were as frequent and familiar as the wildlife in a zoo in a major city but how can one ever imagine viewing animals behind protective structures after this extraordinary experience in Africa?

New PC Recruits Hit the Northwest

2007-08-04T10:01:00.000+02:00

This week brought us full circle as we traveled to a remote village in the Northwest province to assist the Peace Corps training program for the 90 new recruits (including four over 70 years of age) that landed in South Africa on 24 July. The journey back to the village took three days- a trip down the mountain by taxi, an 8 hour greyhound bus ride to Pretoria, and a four ride in a Peace Corps van to the training site. Although our original training village was in Mpumalanga and this year’s center is in the Northwest Province, the villages share similar topography and the same problems-poverty, lack of water, dirt roads, no infrastructure, and remote location. Perfect for Americans who want to learn how to get along in rural South Africa.

The villages in the Northwest had some dissimilar features as several donkey carts with two donkeys pulling the cart chariot-style were noted hauling water. The kraals (small ranches) had fences made of thick tree stumps rather than the thin sticks in the south. Some of the fences were layered with heavy thorn bushes for added protection.

The new Peace Corps Trainees were a serious group of volunteers who voiced intelligent opinions and seemed committed to the task ahead, whatever that might be. They had the same concerns that we had a year ago-Can the language classes be mastered? Can one live on the Peace Corps stipend? What about loneliness and the isolation? How does an American cope with all of the changes and inputs from the Peace Corps trainers? What about Food-Do Peace Corps volunteers really live on Pap and porridge? By the end of our stay, 6 of the new recruits had decided that Peace Corps was not for them and were on their way home. The decision was very hard for them as they worried about facing their friends and family but the prospect of spending two years living with new faces, customs and separation from the familiar was overwhelming.

I am not sure that I could have handled Peace Corps without my husband and my faith in God. The job is 24-7 and requires diplomacy, tact, kindness, and discretion all of those waking hours. The new recruits include 11 married couples- having a spouse may be the best thing that they brought to their Peace Corps experience. I admire the young singles who can decipher how to get from A to B, handle unwanted attention, fit in with their host family with little privacy or down time, and perform in an excellent capacity at their work site. Older persons (the Peace Corps now refers to us seniors as OPs (old people) are given a measure of respect in the local communities. Of course being an older man is even more advantageous, but being seen as a Gogo (grandmother) carries some weight.

We tried to encourage the new recruits and allay their fears. The adventure, travel opportunities and sense of fulfillment more than compensate for the uncertainties, discomforts, and sacrifices. However, even after one year living as a rural citizen, I continue to misunderstand the culture, customs and rythmns of life. Just before we left for Pretoria, I took a walk after dinner down the dirt road leading away from the Hospital. Smoke and fire raged across the fields from the controlled burn conducted on the neighboring farmer’s grazing land. (When we arrived at the Hospital last year we were amazed to see Burn Schedules and Maps for the KZN province). After one year we have learned that controlled burning of grazing land is part of the agricultural plan to increase nutrients in the soil and retain water, a scarce resource. The burns ignite the old grasses and within a few weeks new sprouts of grass create fodder for the livestock and reinvigorate the land. By burning the land is made new and the rain water is stored in the ground. Driving across South Africa at night is an amazing sight with tall flames outlining the horizon, stretching out across the land.

After walking about one mile I had to turn back on the dirt road as the grass fire had cranked up now reaching the dirt road with flames 10 feet high next to the road below the telephone wires. The fire started heading toward the indigenous forest in the direction of the Hospital. I was alarmed at the speed of the flames and the fact that no one was around to monitor the course and fury of the fire. I hurried back to the Hospital and contacted the Security Guard about the fire on the dirt road. He seemed unconcerned but contacted a driver to inspect the situation. I asked about calling the fire department but that option does not exist in our remote location. Out of control fires are dealt with by borrowing a water tank truck from the timber mill, 6 miles away. The driver finally arrived and we went down the road to inspect the fire. Boy was I embarrassed when we arrived at the danger point where 30 minutes previously, the flames were leaping back to the hospital and up toward the power line. The area was black char with the indigenous trees untouched from the blaze. (I later learned that the indigenous trees are flame resistant). I apologized to the driver for my concern and he graciously told me not to worry. Such is the reaction from a So. Cal Gal coming from a fire zone in the hills of Palos Verdes. After one year here there is still so much to learn!

Zesty Zanzibar Photos

2007-07-27T15:56:00.000+02:00

Alleyways in Stonetown

Seaweed Drying on the Beach

Zesty Zanzibar

2007-07-21T20:43:00.000+02:00

To mark the halfway point in our Peace Corps Service, Brendon and I hustled off to Zanzibar (Spice Island) for some fun in the sun at a beach resort on the Indian Ocean. Travel from South Africa to Tanzania was only 4 hours but the countries seem like world’s apart.

We flew from Johannesburg to Zanzibar via Dar Es Salaam, arriving at night to an airport right out of “Casablanca”, with old lettered signage and a few tired government types to issue visas. Our checked luggage was hauled off the airplane and hand carried unto some flat benches so in minutes we were on our way to our beach hotel, one hour north of the airport. Zanzibar, an island about 40 miles long and 15 miles wide, is a UN World Heritage Site famous for the palaces in its capital of Stone Town, built 150 years ago from the riches of the Sultan’s slave trade. Zanzibar is reportedly one of the safest places in Africa and a winner for travel because of the gorgeous beaches, the warm water and the historical treasures of Stone Town.

The Oman Arabs and British colonial rule have both left their imprints with many of the Victorian-Arabic monumental buildings designed by a British architect (Sinclair) who “went native” and increasing used Arabic themes and appointments in his designs. Since a revolution against the sultans in 1964, the numerous palaces and government edifices have fallen into disrepair but philanthropic groups are beginning to restore the grand old dames. The impressive government buildings and waterfront palaces are jettisoned with tiny alleys, making shopping in the byways interesting, albeit a bit touristy. The island is flat, verdant, and fertile with spices grown on small farms in the interior.

For two weary soles coming from a country where everyone is home at night due to worries about crime, our after dark trip from the airport was a delight watching the locals hang out on the street shopping, gossiping, meeting friends and enjoying the warm air. The streets reminded me of islands in the Caribbean with small stalls and restaurants facing directly onto the road. Piles of fruit, curries, bicycle tires, mealie and household staples were offered to passerbys. The women create a mélange of color and movement in their colorful geometric two piece kanga skirt and veil, which often has a Muslim proverb on the facing.

Zanzibar is situated on the equator and has year round warm temperatures, welcome to folks from winter in South Africa. The resort seemed to be in harmony with the local villagers as they both benefit from the sea and the hotel provides employment for the village. Although the beach resort had an international flavor with water sports, beach lounges, pools and amenities including tea at four attended by a cheerful woman making crepes with chocolate sauce, it shares the beach with the neighboring fishing village. When the tide is out the local woman tend their seaweed crops, which cling to small sticks imbedded in the sand. The men fish from the reef with traps, spears, and line. When the tide comes in all evidence of the seaweed farms disappears under the surf and the hotel residents swim in the warm water. A walk out to the reef at low tide gives great pleasure from tidepools with colorful small fish, starfish, coral, the dhow (handmade boats) sitting still on the sand and perfectly clear water. The seaweed industry is nonpolluting and an added interest to the amazing visual scene of swaying palms, perfect white sand, turquoise water, beautifully dressed Muslim women sitting in the shallow surf harvesting their crops, marine blue skies studded with billowy clouds. In short fashion the white billows turn to black storm clouds and light rain passes over the island.

The resort is international land in one of Africa’s poorest countries. For folks in the Peace Corps, the high prices catch one off guard. The dollar is king and it is ironic that our first job here was to change rand into dollars. A second shock came when the posted price for a cab to historic Stone Town was $60 one way. This is where Peace Corps experience came in handy as a 4 km walk down the road to the local village produced a ride to town for less than one dollar in a Daladala. The Daladala leaves every 10 minutes and is always full. An open air truck is converted to convenient, economical transportation by decorating the sides with wrought iron, adding a canopy with floral designs and horseshoe benches for the passengers. Passengers greet one another and slide together to make room for the trip to town. A young conductor stands at the back on the fender and bangs the truck three times when it is safe for the driver to proceed. Interesting to note that most countries of the world provide cheap, efficient transportation for local residents whether it be jitneys, tuk tuks, combies, or DalaDalas and are available for adventurous tourists to connect with the locals.

No trip to Zanzibar is complete without a tour of the spice farms. The spices grow in the jungle and are harvested for cash crops. Nutmeg is king but annatto, cinnamon, garlic, vanilla, ginger, and cloves thrive in the humid climate. The tour consists of a guide leading one through the forest to a stand of trees, breaking off a fruit, vine, flower or bark and crushing the substance with the question as to what spice was in his hand. One surprise was cinnamon where the bark, root and leaf all have uses and distinctive smells. Prickly annatto flowers were crushed producing a beautiful red powder used for cosmetics and hair dye.

Zanzibar contrasts with South Africa in that there are no industries on this island and the residents are much poorer than SA’s. Prices for food are very high. The village people live in mud and rock huts with thatched roofs. The Country has developed tourism as a quick fix for its poverty but the development has caused deforestation of many areas. . As in most Muslim countries in Africa, the HIV infection rate is lower than the non-Muslim countries but HIV and Malaria are serious health problems. No vaccine is available for malaria although it is one of Africa’s biggest killers. Prevention of malaria requires sleeping under mosquito nets, spraying, prophylactic medicine and insect repellents. All of these measures are available to affluent tourists, but the locals do not have these preventive measures at the ready. Malaria can be eradicated from a country with a will to stop this killer disease- better yet, drug manufacturer’s could develop a vaccine. As it is, Malaria debilitates the working poor and is a frequent killer of the population at large.

Zanzibar is a pleasure for tourists as the local residents are very kind to tourists and the mix of the exotic plus the familiar is welcome. Beaches and cities seem very safe and one quickly stops looking around for unsavory characters who might want your bag or cell phone. A beautiful island getaway!

Halftime!

2007-07-10T22:36:00.001+02:00

One year ago on July 10, 2006 we vacated our home of 20 years to join the US Peace Corps as NGO Capacity Builders for AIDS in South Africa. Time has passed quickly with enjoyable experiences but many days are challenging with annoyances, frustrations and inconveniences. At the beginning of the training, we were somewhat incredulous that we could survive two years living in poverty conditions in a complex country. However, after reaching the half way mark and four seasons it looks like we are on our way to finishing our two years of service. Now is a good time to take stock and see what has been accomplished, where we have failed and how we have changed.

During our last days of training we were asked to write down our expectations for our service and then were told to take the paper, put it in a trash can and light a match. So many of us volunteers aspired to “Help the poor”, “Make a Difference”, “Use our Skills” or even in jest “Save the World.” In fact Capacity Building has often been a series of failed attempts at new projects or improved processes/procedures. Sometimes our presence has been a nuisance for the NGO as we do not understand many South African business, employee, or social customs, not to mention the language difficulties. Our style of attacking problems is different than the NGO and our attempts to create Tables with Itemized list of Improvements, Repairs, Purchases and Prioritization have not been embraced.

An attempt to grow food was a failure in spite of countless hours shoveling the hard sod, hoeing, and weeding. Travels and an invasion of goats wiped out all of our efforts. However the hospital manager took notice of the potential for food production and properly plowed the land, amended the soil, hired workers, repaired the fence and planted cabbage and spinach which are growing beautifully. Is a failed gardening attempt Capacity Building? Maybe in a small way

Our attempts at organizing the renovation projects in the hospital with prioritization and work schedules were met with sigh and silence but slowly the improvements have been made, with a different timetable and sequence of events than we envisioned but progress becoming apparent.

The two successful projects at the Hospital, the AIDS Orphans and Vulnerable Children’s camp held last week and the Occupational Therapy Program for patients were not conceivable as activities that might be the work of Capacity Builders or work that we might do. However these two projects (funded by US PEPFAR) have been the most satisfying part of our service, with tangible results. The compelling need for a way of dealing with the psycho-social problems of AIDS orphans and the lack of any activity for confined patients drove the projects to success. Although the seed money for these projects came from the US, the style of the outcome was distinctively African with a rolling, zigzag motion rather than a conscripted detailed Gann diagram.

The OVCs camp was a lesson in the goodwill of the Zulu community and their care for each other. Most of the labor was donated; the counselors committed to 5 days of training before the camp began. This was the first camp for OVCs in our area but the need is great. 51 out of thousands of children were able to attend and benefit from the life skills and empowerment. Our NGO has a history of helping the needy around the world so this job of helping young people find their way in life without parents is not a new story. The NGO does not believe in coddling the children. Rather they are given practical lessons in life, presented with physical challenges they can succeed at, joined with each other through team building, and empowered with the knowledge they are not alone in this task. Many others are in the same situation or even worse circumstances.

So if this sounds dry and like social babble, the camp was NOT! The kids were fun, enthusiastic and bonded with each other in a remarkable way. The older children helped the younger children. Not one child went home with even a bandaid on his finger. No complaints and No Behavior Problems! Hopefully this will be the start of an ongoing support program for the local OVCs. A drop in center with food and adult supervision is sorely needed. One hundred years ago Christian organizations provided schools and hospitals to remote communities in South Africa. Today the need is for care and empowerment for a new generation of children who will grow up without parents due to the AIDS crisis.

So, after one year how has our life changed? We are living a much simpler life and lifestyle. For example:
· We do not have insurance, car repairs or gas bills to pay
· When we travel we do not have to stop the mail, newspapers or worry about the yard
· We do not spend time in traffic jams or commuting. Our home is the back room of the office.
· We have no utility bills to worry about and our trash is burned
· Our trash is limited to two small plastic bags per week. In Palos Verdes we used to fill up three large cans per week plus one recycle container.
· In the last year we have used only 3 rolls of paper towels and one roll of plastic wrap and aluminum foil.
· Our one room flat can be cleaned in one hour. At home it was an all days job with four bedrooms, three baths and numerous knick knacks to dust
· We have one set of sheets for the bed and two towels rather than a linen closet full of sheets, towels and blankets. Guests are on their own
· We seldom work past 4 pm and have time to take beautiful walks through the mountain and forest trails surrounding our new home
· Homeowner jobs are not on the agenda. The only project we tackled was sealing the rotting windows with duct tape for the winter.
· Grocery shopping is a snap as we are limited to what we can carry down the dirt road and very simple cooking on the two burner hot plate
· Medical and dental care. Not an issue as we have not had a sick day since our arrival.
· Entertainment is simple and plentiful as we are plowing through the two boxes of books we shipped from the US
· Although Palos Verdes is a very quiet place to live it cannot compare to our new home with no telephones, television, stereo, UPS trucks or racing cars. (Of course PV does not have the 2am roosters that are the fly in the ointment)
What is the new worry? Many returned Peace Corps Volunteers state the return to the US is a big adjustment. We will see!

Beached Pleasures

2007-07-01T22:29:00.000+02:00

This weekend was an experience in Patience and Flexibility and Serendipity and Joy as the escape to the coast turned sour but the discovery of what is underfoot was explored and embraced. This is an allegory for life as oftentimes the Promised Land is delayed and the manna at arms length is available for the willing and able.

After a week of work at the hospital and facilitating the OVC (Aids orphans and vulnerable children) camp at our doorstep, we were ready for a break plus grocery shopping. Our plan was to catch the only bus out of town to the coast and hole up in Richards Bay for the weekend to get some warmer weather and civilization. After an hour of waiting for the Greyhound we were sorely disappointed to discover that the bus was fully booked and our escape from Vryheid was not going to happen. What to do for the weekend? A look at the local paper to determine the status of the government worker’s, teachers and nurses national strike brought an advertisement to our attention- Mpofini Game Preserve- Lodge 5 km from Vryheid plus lodging and hiking trails. A call to the Preserve landed us a booking (reservation). Transport to this lodge embodied the pleasure and burden of the Peace Corps. No car or private transportation was available but our site is in close proximity to amazing natural wonders. A call to the only local taxi company in our town brought some language and geographical confusion but within 30 minutes a taxi showed and we traveled the short distance to a remarkable and amazing game preserve/lodge. Plus the added benefit is that it met Peace Corps budget restrictions (R420 a night for two including breakfast - $60).

We arrived at this guarded, gated (electrical fences for the 12,000 hectares of private game park) and somewhat isolated game park by taxi to find an amazing collection of game, geology, and terrain. A family has held the property for 80 years but has recently developed it into a game preserve with rhinos, hippos, giraffes, impalas, warthogs, nyalas, and bok. In South Africa one can check into a hotel room at 8 am so we got out of the taxi and walked up through the thatched gate to the reception station. The clerk at the desk welcomed us but stated that there were two problems with the lodge accommodations and preserve- first, if we wanted to hike through the huge preserve we must be careful about the rhino couple as Mrs. R had just had a baby and she was very protective. The second problem was the Bush Wedding scheduled for 11am in the Wild Bush which would entail much of the staff. She also added that the Preserve would provide game drives if desired.

We walked the short distance from the Reception to our chalet, one of four perched on a hilltop high above the huge expanse of crater, rocky hilltops, plain, and acacia/succulent hillsides. This was the sounds of Africa-bird calls, brush and quiet. After leaving our Beach belongings (shorts, swimming attire, t-shirts) in the beautiful African decorated chalet (full bath, bed, deck overlooking the savannah) we traveled down the road to the bottom of the crater. Numerous impala and nyala jumped away in surprise. In the field many game were feeding without regard to our presence. We hiked up the side of the crater finding herds of zebras, which are skittish, shy and will run off together. Wart hogs chomped on the grass and were very fast on their feet as we approached. A trip though the wilds produced many herd of game. A herd of 12 adult and baby giraffes turned up at one road bend. The giraffes defend themselves by become motionless large bush trees that stared at us the intruders. We trudged back through the side roads and came upon the vehicles for the wedding. We did not want to intrude upon the wedding but could not help but take a peak as we spotted the site with a huge termite mound decorated with flowers as the altar, a pathway for the bride strewn with fall leaves, seating for the guests consisting of hay stacks, and the brides young attendants adorned in orange net fairy skirts. A Great Fall Celebration!

What could top this amazing hike through the preserve? At two pm the prospective son-in-law of the owner of the property showed up a jeep to take us to the back reaches of the property to see the newly acquired hippos. Game drive for R180 ($20). He explained his family’s plans to develop the property so that the property could be sustained in a natural and historical way as a place where game and man live in coexistence. (Game preserves are also a way of preserving land ownership). He drove us to the back reaches of the preserve where a family of three hippos live in a deep pond and appear to thrive with no natural enemies. They were enjoying themselves sunning on the bank of the pond and paid the vehicle no notice. Hippos actually kill more humans in Africa each year than lions but this family grouping seemed very benign. Their footprints around the pond were as big as soccer balls- the driver stated that they weigh 2.5 tons.

The high veld (higher ground) on the preserve also presented the corps of marching ostriches as 8 ostriches descended on the jeep in V formation. They danced in front on the jeep with their small heads held high and large bodies rambling along.

On the last part of the drive, the lookout was for Mrs. R and her baby. The driver explained that the rhinos cannot see very well but if they catch sight of an enemy, they can be very aggressive and dangerous. (This park has 3 white rhinos which are much less aggressive than the black rhinos). On the drive back we searched up and down and high and low for the rhino, but she was hiding for the day. Perhaps the wedding in the bush was too much for her.

Back in our chalet we perched on the deck and watched the night unfold. A full moon in the bush with the sounds of Africa providing the entertainment. A question came up-What if we had caught the bus to the promised land of civilization, warmth, shopping malls and first world conveniences. Do we often miss the most exotic and rewarding opportunity for the promise of comfort and entertainment?

The trip back to town today was also scary and challenging to determine if the private taxi would come a short distance and take us back to town. A call produced an almost unintelligible answer but in short order a taxi arrived and drove us to town in time to get Mr. Zulu’s taxi back to Mountain High before the rainstorm hit. (this week has been record cold and snow in SA).

What to think of private game parks and lodges? The land is preserved and the ecosystem is brought into balance (albeit an absence of predators). The animals are free to live in their habitat and appear to prosper. Opponents of the private game preserves stated that they are tax dodges for the landowners or ways of avoiding land distribution. On this weekend we enjoyed the beautiful scenery, the hiking opportunities and the low cost convenient way to enjoy nature so close to our shopping town.

The Campers Are Coming! The Americans Came!

2007-06-24T19:28:00.000+02:00

This week was a flurry of activity and fun as preparations began in earnest for the 50 AIDS orphans and vulnerable children that will arrive at Mountain High this week for “Camp Be a Hero”. The children are coming from 5 local villages for psycho-social support, group bonding and recreation. The camp is free to the children and has been financed by a grant from the US (PEPFAR), community volunteer contributions, and the NGO backing the Hospital. The children will participate in workshops dealing with lifeskills and their social needs in the morning; handcrafts, team building and recreation in the afternoon. One week of support seems like a band-aid approach to the problem of losing one’s parents to AIDS but the intent is to empower the children and follow-up after the camp.

South Africa is home to 500 new AIDS orphans every day. Over 2 million men and women have died of AIDS in South Africa with most being in their prime parenting and working years. This problem will continue to plague the country until a cure or vaccine is found. ARV therapy is starting to become available which would prolong productive life but access to the drugs requires an HIV test. Many adults are in denial and worry about stigma if they are tested so they refuse.

The Ubuntu spirit in Africa (community caring) mandates that the orphans remain in the village with the grandmothers (gogos) or other relatives stepping in to provide care. The unfortunate problem is that in many households only the gogos remain and the children become the head of household with the entire family dependent on the gogo’s pension. AIDS is truly a social problem as well as medical tragedy.

The plan for the camp involves moving the OVCS into the boy’s boarding school dormitory, which has been vacated due to the teacher’s strike. We worried last week about the boys returning to the dorm if the strike was settled, leaving the campers homeless. The news this week is that no settlement is eminent and the students will not return until the new term starts in July. The next problem was constructing recreation and challenge equipment for the campers. Brendon and I had an interesting shopping trip to town to buy poles and ropes for the challenge course with the tall poles attached to the roof of the pickup for the trip back up the mountain. The truck was loaded with soccer balls, nets, crayons, craft supplies, and liters of catsup for games. (Who knows what the camp director has planned)!

After one year of living on the mountain with only Zulus for company, two groups of Americans arrived this week. On Monday the NGO that runs the hospital sent 8 American college students to Mountain High to assist with preparations for the camp and get a whiff of life in a mission hospital. On Monday night the Bonds went to the chapel to meet the American students. My heart welled with emotion as I entered and saw their distinctly American faces. They laughed and joked as we introduced ourselves. “How about them Dodgers?” (I thought to myself) as here were people who could understand my humor and accent. Although they were from the Midwest and I am a Californian, I felt this intense bond and familiarity with the kids. They looked, talked and acted like home and I am homesick for my kids. These kids had a work ethic and volunteer spirit. By the next day they had put together the craft program for the camp and were busy learning Zulu beading. They participated in Tuesday Bingo which was hilarious with a crowd of 40 Zulu patients and American college students. Both groups were keen on winning and the stakes were high. Each group presented a song and joined in bingo silliness.

Ironically, a group of 6 Peace Corps volunteers arrived the next day for a pajama party at the Bond’s. Almost 20 Americans in this obscure corner of the universe-what to think? The PC volunteers stopped by on their way to the game preserves and St. Lucia on the coast. It was fun to exchange stories and hear about their sites and experiences. I compared the two groups of Americans in my mind and realized that the Peace Corps volunteers had changed in the course of a year. The idealism of our first weeks together had mellowed into realism about their impact and discussion of more mundane issues such as how to live and travel on the Peace Corps budget. The warts of NGO’s and government programs become apparent after working inside of them for a year. The loneliness, discomforts, sacrifices and isolations of the posts take their toll on the enthusiasm and altruistic spirit that we knew during our initial training. However, the giddy volunteer spirit has given way to a more mature stance and a commitment to complete the task, whatever that is or might become over the next year. Although I feel an intense bond with the PC volunteers, they did not move my emotions like the college students. Perhaps the college students represented the place where I was at one time or the Americans that I would like to know. Perhaps they stand for what is good about America- the willingness to go 12,000 miles on a plane, jump off and immediately start helping with a positive can do spirit. We offered one girl a chance to use the internet but she declined saying that she could not accept a privilege that her friends could not access.

The 6 Peace Corps volunteers had dinner and spent the night in our flat. It was challenging (and fun) to cook for 8 people (plus 3 local residents who turned out for the party). Guacamole, (made by a PCV) Homemade Pizza, Spaghetti, Salad and Chocolate Chip cookies for desert. (The chocolate chips were a unique find in Durban). Then the shuffle to find floor space for the bodies and breakfast the next morning. Dishes and utensils just barely made the grade. Not the same evening as dinner parties at home but very special and memorable. At 7 am the hospital workers showed up at the office door so all bodies had to be neatly stored away and order returned. It was a great evening and a true pleasure to communicate with people that have had this unique experience.

Mountain High Pics

2007-06-17T10:21:00.001+02:00

View of the valley from our back yard

Mr. Zulu, our intrepid taxi driver

Acacia trees create the fantasy landscape

Kraal in the Valley with Mountain High Hospital on the hill.

Saturday in KwaZuluNatal

2007-06-16T17:33:00.000+02:00

After a shopping trip to Durban for patient handcraft supplies last weekend and an unexpected trip to Richards’s Bay on Tuesday due to the government worker’s strike, the Bonds were happy to stay at our Mountain High hospital home for the weekend. Today was a beautiful fall day with warm blue skies, the red aloes and coral trees in bloom and the birds abundant and full of song.

Today seemed like a special treat to be able to sleep past our normal 5 am when our taxi driver Mr. Zulu heads out and just enjoy the beauty of this unique natural setting. During Peace Corps training we were told that the usual Sat routine for South Africans is to get up early on Sat. Morning and clean the house from top to bottom with sweeping, dusting, mopping and heavy doses of Handy Andy. (Ironically this was the mandatory program when I was growing up like so many customs in South Africa). We reversed the program and stayed in bed till 9, made delicious filter coffee and toast with Umsoba (berry) jam and headed out to hike the Mountain to Valley road. The hike goes from the hospital, through the grove of cypress trees that line the dirt road to the boy’s boarding school. The boys have all gone home due to the teacher’s strike so the dilapidated buildings were eerily quiet. From the boarding school the dirt road heads straight up through the indigenous forest. Unfortunately the trees closest to the trek have been butchered for firewood by the local citizens without thought for replanting or future generations. At the top of the ridge the road levels with nonnative trees for about a half km until the road opens up with a view to the entire Zulu kingdom – layers of silhouetted rounded hills one after the other with deep canyons, interesting red and grey rock geological formations and tiny, scattered villages on the sides of the hills. From here the trek becomes downwardly very steep and enters into the Valley where my nearest neighbors and coworkers live.

The valley is not exactly a village but a series of very small farms or Kraals as they are called. The kraal contains several mud hut dwellings with at least one rondoval with a thatched roof. The kraal is surrounded by a fence composed of barbed wire and wood branches. Usually there are some stalls for goats or cows made of tree branches. Roofs for the square mud dwellings are made of tin with rocks or tires on top of the tin to protect from lightning. Multi generational families live in the buildings and share cooking, wood and water gathering responsibilities. The houses have no electricity, indoor plumbing, immediate access to water (there are outdoor faucets every 500 ft or so but the supply is unreliable), radio or TV. Clothing is washed by hand outdoors and hung on the barbed wire to dry. Some homes do use car batteries for charging cell phones and energizing boom boxes. A few of the Kraals have mealy (corn) and other crops but the Zulus primarily raise cattle and goats for their existence and the land is very dry and arid. The residents of this village are my neighbors and coworkers. To get to work they don their smart, stylish clothing (which is always ironed and immaculate) and hike up the cement path (shortcut with 20 % grade straight up to the hospital). They venture from a difficult, rough life, with no conveniences, up a steep path to the hospital where they work all day with electricity, running water, telephones, high tech computers and medical equipment. I thought my life was confusing jumping between first and third world on a weekly basis. My coworkers are intelligent and reliable and can speak at least three languages. I respect them for their commitment to Batho Pele (patient’s first) philosophy of the hospital but moreso to their ability to go into the forest with their machete, cut down trees so that they can cook food and stay warm, haul the trees on their heads, keep track of their animals, haul water from distant springs in wheelbarrows when the taps are dry, enjoy endless daily banter and camaraderie with their fellow Zulus and also fufill their first world duties in a hospital subsidized by the government with numerous regulations and data requirements.

The hike through the valley is a rewarding special experience. Someone calls out to us at each Kraal and asks how we are. About halfway through the hike three cars venture down the steep almost inaccessible road. They are hooting (honking) their horns and laughing. The wedding party is arriving. The bride is decked out in white gown and veil with orange bows and streamers decorating the fancy black car. Everyone is glad to greet us and we are glad to see such an amazing parade on this stretch of almost impassable road. What a great sight! Marriages and life continue in this Valley in spite of life’s difficulty and the curse of AIDS.

We spent the afternoon sitting in the warm African sun looking out at the Valley that is our home. The rock formations make a face of a Zulu and are contrasted by the series of hills, acacia trees, aloes, forests and the birds with their choruses. A perfect afternoon in Zululand!

Bingo Fun

2007-06-13T17:42:00.000+02:00

Teacher's, government worker's and public hospital employee’s strikes have hit South Africa-Today is the “Big Push” with marches and demonstrations (here called Toyi Toyi) in every city. This is the first nationwide strike since the end of Apartheid 14 years ago. Peace Corps policy requires that volunteers avoid any political demonstration or activism for personal safety and to prevent the appearance of taking sides. So yesterday we took the Greyhound bus to a quiet b and b to sit out the Big Push Day and attempt to recover my dead laptop from the computer service center. (Mountain High Hospital is not affiliated with the same union as the government strikers, however this week the employees came to work in street attire rather than uniforms). We packed in a hurry yesterday, not knowing how long we would be gone from the Hospital we now call home. The patients were unhappy to see us go as the promised “Bingo” game with new prizes had to be postponed until another day. We were able to go to a movie in our hole up town and enjoyed seeing “Amazing Grace”, the story of William Wilberforce, the abolitionist who worked for 25 years to accomplish his goal of eliminating British slave ships. The movie is beautifully produced, a pleasure to watch and a lesson in how spiritual activism and commitment to purpose can change society.

With a combined men and women Jabule group, Bingo was introduced for Tuesday fun a few weeks ago. No patient or staff was familiar with the game but they caught on fast and enjoyed the action. For some time I have been trying to find a social activity that didn’t require complex language skills but would occupy time and entertain the fun- loving men and women. Bingo is played by 5 year olds to 85 year olds and uses numbers rather than words. The 30 patients got excited about the prospect for winning and managed to keep track of the numbers called. The concept of yelling "Bingo" when one had a winning card took a few games, but they heartily uttered the coveted word in their Zulu accents. They looked longingly at the chocolate bars and soaps that I had cadged for prizes. They had laughs and cheers when one of their friends won big. Brendon created the game boards from an internet site and used excel to produce random numbers. (Of course part of the Bingo thrill is the roll out of the balls but patients here have never had this thrill so they were not disappointed by simple read out of numbers). The Peace Corps is ambivalent about bringing laptops and high tech gizmos to third world sites but their usefulness is invaluable and has enriched our volunteer experience/contribution. Better that we could present adult literacy classes or Zulu culture but lacking knowledge or helpers to coordinate this type of enrichment, I am happy to create diversion and fun for a few hours with Bingo.

After a shopping trip last weekend to Durban to obtain Zulu beads, fabric and shoe making supplies the men (and 6 women) showed up on Monday to make sandals from tires. In Durban we located an industrial cobbler supply shop with rubber soles, goat skins, leather, and glue at wholesale prices. Beading supplies were replenished as men and women have been prodigiously making beaded jewelry and trinkets. Best of all was the discovery of a fabric store closeout with many bolts of beautiful fabric for 4 rand (60 cents) a meter. The women love to make skirts and will sew or bead in their beds long after the Jabule group has disbanded for the day.

Sad news, after taking my Compaq computer to the only authorized HP service center in KWA ZuluNatal, it has been officially declared dead, both hard drive and main board. So as they say in South Africa, “Borrow Me your computer” will be the mantra.

Two Weddings and a PC Death

2007-06-02T20:17:00.000+02:00

So, what are some of the downsides to Peace Corps service other than the discomforts and communication frustrations? This weekend is cold, grey and miserable as we are huddled in our bed at a B and B in our shopping town. Our thoughts are centered 12,000 miles away in California where our niece is getting married tomorrow and we will not be there. My sisters have been writing and calling with all of the details, plans and excitement about the wedding. I am missing my family and two sons. The obvious sacrifices in the Peace Corps are easy to adjust to but the intimate family parties and events cannot be replaced and weigh heavily at this point in time. Travel to the US for a wedding is nearly impossible as it is a 3 day trip each way and Volunteers are allowed only 2 days off a month. So we are thinking of Debbie and David and their families and wishing them the very best wedding and a wonderful life full of joy and discovery, and happiness.

Ironically, today a driver from the hospital is also getting married, no easy feat in South Africa. He paid the 11 cow dowry (called lobola) and finally is able to tie the knot. The wedding will go on all day but like the wedding in California, there is no transportation to the small village so we cannot attend. (In addition, Saturdays require travel by taxi the 80km to our shopping town for groceries and by the end of the week we are sorely in need of food, a change of scenery from the hospital, and a break from our own cooking.) Lobola may contribute to the AIDs problem in South Africa as it is a hindrance to marriage and causes many men to travel to distant work sites to earn the money for the cows thus creating havoc in relationships.

On Monday the hard drive died on my laptop computer so I am now a PC volunteer without a PC. The boot up was getting slower and slower. Monday brought only the cursor light with a dim blink. Total vegetative state! All of those admonitions about Back Up are now ringing in my ears as I am a computer dependent spouse and have lost a year's worth of photos and docs. Repair of a Compaq hard drive in a remote rural town is no easy task. After many emails, Compaq has directed us to a repair site in Durban, an 8 hour bus trip from our town. Further bad news was that the warranty ran out two months ago so we must navigate the repair and trip to Durban. Might as well make lemonade out of the lemons so next week looks like a trip to Durban with shopping for the patient’s handcraft program and laptop repair. Maybe we will venture into GAME (the South Africa version of Target) to look for the two sewing machines included in the Occupational Therapy grant.

A bright spot on Friday was Vusi’s return, the cobbler guru strikes again. This week he taught the patients how to make sandals out of impala skin and fur. Impala fur is part of the Zulu culture and clothing/shoes are made out of the soft skin which is white, tan and brown. He demonstrated cutting strips of the fur and gluing them to vinyl, then nailing them to the soles made of discarded tires. Old whitewall tires were cut into strips and separated so that an interesting white strip bounded the tire sole. Another style of sandal was made from tire strips covered with white vinyl. Interesting geometric designs were cut into the white vinyl, revealing black underneath. Vusi was a true craftsman and took great pains with his astute skills to make the sandals sturdy and lovely. Next week the patients will give sandal making a try. I worry about accidents from the matte knives but the men (and women) have strong capable hands and know their way around knives as they must venture into the forest and cut wood for their stoves at home.

2007-05-27T18:55:00.000+02:00

Birding Trail beside Natal Spa River

Coot Fun

2007-05-27T18:43:00.000+02:00

Attention is being paid by the US Peace Corps Director and South Africa County Director to the huge pool of potential volunteers represented by the over 50-year-old baby boomers. Brendon and I often tease each other about what class of late middle aged folks we fit into – Are we coots, codgers, geezers, or just plain Old Farts! Likewise for old ladies we have the old bags, dowagers, old bittys and old bats. Some days all categories may fit the wearer. However, whatever our label, the Old Folks (as we are known in the Peace Corps) have numerous skills and resources that may compensate for the lack of energy and enthusiasm manifested by the young. At the beginning of our Peace Corps service the age difference between the more populous 20 year olds and the over 50 year olds created cliques and some separation but as time has gone one the similarities in our experience and hardships have mollified the age differences.
Last week was truly a Coot experience as we joined a trained Bird Watching guide for a hike through the country side near the Natal Spa. We showed up woefully unprepared without binoculars, Sasol’s Birds of South Africa and notebook for recording the sightings. Simon is a Zulu of short stocky build wearing the South African trekker’s togs of two tone khaki shirt and pants, neatly pressed and creased. He discussed the available trails and the common types of birds found in the area. South Africa is home to over 400 species of birds, with many fabulous coloring and shapes that are new to Americans. We set off on the Red Trail which meandered through an exotic gum tree forest to a ridge of the rolling hills around the spa with sightings of the famous river formed from the spring. Simon led us slowly and quietly, looking up at the trees and listening for calls. “Work Harder, Work Harder, Work Harder” was one bird’s call. The Ha De Da Ibis’s swooped above us with their urgent shrieking. The story is that they are afraid of heights, so when flying scream at an alarming pitch. They are quiet when picking for grubs on the ground and beautiful in their large elegant form and beautiful grey and reddish feathers. The guide spotted a Jackie Hangman on a telephone line with white chest and black back. His name comes from his habit of collecting tasty worms and storing them on the sharp barbs of the barbed wire fences. We spotted several weaver birds nests but alas the beautiful yellow weaver birds have flown NORTH for the winter. A true pleasure in South Africa is watching the flocks of black and white martins as they turn in formation against the sun, making beautiful patterns of black and white triangular forms.
The onslaught of winter creeps into all conversations, blogs and center of thought these days. There is nothing that can be done about the cold (except to turn on the ineffective electric space heaters) and dress warmly. The air is clear and dry. The leaves are beginning to turn color. It feels like Thanksgiving in Los Angeles. The local residents walk around and sit in offices with gloves, hats and scarves even though the temperature is only in the low sixties during the day and down into the 30’s at night. We went for a walk in the forest late Friday afternoon and saw nary a goat, cow or child tending the animals-all had been tucked away for the night. During the summer the trail was a parade of children herding the animals or skinny dipping in the pond on the side of the mountain.
I guess I am finally falling into wifely submission as this weekend I agreed to cut Brendon’s hair, a task he has begged me to do for years. We have been in Africa for almost a year and he has faithfully frequented the corner barber shop to get his Number 2 every 2 weeks. The corner barber shop is literal- Bongi sets up a plastic tarp booth on the corner near the taxi rank of our shopping town, hooks up his clippers to a car battery and Voila he is in business. A great hair cut for 6 rand (90 cents). Brendon has been a little squeamish about head lice, in spite of the pink cleaning solution that Bongi dips his combs in prior to each new client. South Africans are very well groomed and this includes frequent hair cuts. However it is not apparent where actual licensed barber shops are located. The last trip to town Brendon invested in clippers and began goading the wife to try hair cutting. Today was the day! He asked me in a very affirmative voice if I would go outside and try out the clippers. If you are wondering about the results remember the admonition-you get what you pay for!
Our trip back from town was uneventful except for gaining insight into the knowledge that all Zulus possess regarding handcrafts and their culture. While waiting for the taxi to leave town, I showed Mr. Zulu (our driver) a straw frame for a beaded bangle bracelet and asked him if he knew where to get the reeds for make the circular frame. He disappeared for a short time and came back with 8 strands of green field grass that he began to weave into rope. Bend one strand a quarter turn and turn-Repeat until a beautiful 8 strand braid is formed. He passed the piece onto me and I finished out the rope. He then started a more complicated pattern with interwoven strands which was too much of a challenge.
We loaded into the taxi and journeyed the beautiful 80 km drive to the Hospital. Near the end of the trip a small boy ran out onto the road with a bag. Mr. Zulu looked at me as asked if I liked birds (izinyoni). I responded in my best Zulu that I like birds. He handed me the plastic bag. I looked inside not understanding what the package had to do with birds and found beautiful layers of honeycomb (izinyosi). Such are the daily misunderstandings with new language and the kindness of drivers. The delicious honeycomb was passed through the taxi with a small treat for all. My painful experience with the bees was forgiven as I tasted the delicious smoky honey right out of the honeycomb and chewed on the beeswax like it was chewing gum. It became clear why the Hospital staff was consumed with retrieving the honey from the roof of the ward last month and putting themselves in danger. What a treat!

Cobbler School and Fashion Show Pics

2007-05-19T19:59:00.000+02:00

Fashion Models making their Grand Entrance into Fashion Show May 2007

Shopping Town of Vryheid from Game Preserve on Vryheid Hill
Fashion Show Models and Their Creations-Hats, scarves and Tshirts

Vusi, Mountain High Cobbler Instructor and Students

Patient Models Holding Their Heads High and Seizing the Moment

Zulu Fashion Show and Cobbler School

2007-05-19T17:41:00.001+02:00

The second Mountain High Fashion Show was a big hit with the men and women patient models Dressed to the Nines with their handsewn creations and beadwork. Fifteen of the women planned a grand entrance and danced in two by two led by the queen of the parade, a woman clad in a bright yellow dress leaning on her cane for support. The audience cheered as they watched the women dance in. The Jabule men and women then gathered in front and began to sing. Individual soloists and dancers did their numbers with high kicks and a stomp for drama. Each solo attempt was more inventive than the one before. The theme was Celebrate the Abundant Life-Love Life! For a couple of hours the patients had energy, excitement and smiles on their faces. Most are in their 20’s and 30’s, a time for enjoying parties and fun rather than confinement to a hospital. Their spirit was bright and entertainment great!

This weekend we are at the Natal Spa, a natural hot spring outside our shopping town of Vryheid. This is a great place to visit for those that enjoy soaking in very warm water (only a slight whiff of sulfur rising from the hottest pools.) The irony is the fact that three mornings this week we had no water for showers. On Monday I injured my back carrying heavy bags of fabric and could not bend over. One hour of soaking in the hot water got the kink out-So be careful what you say about health frauds and spas. A few months ago a codirector of an NGO in Ladysmith told us the history of the spa. Her grandmother was herding sheep and stumbled on a natural pool of the warm water. Shortly afterward, the Afrikaans fenced off the spring and prohibited the Zulus from using entering the water. (The spa has a different story of the discovery of the spring, however).

The Men’s Jabule Group has been going well with a consistent core group showing up every day to make fleece hats, scarves, bags, and T shirts to ward of the chill. However, from the start the men have wanted to learn how to make and repair shoes. A hospital employee and I hitched a ride to Nongoma, the headquarters for the Zulu Kingdom and allegedly a great place to buy supplies for making shoes. Our tip was to find Mr. Bond’s dry goods store which would have soles, leather, impala skins, glue and rope. I introduced myself to Mr. Bond himself, an eighty year old patriarch who owns most of the property in town and teased him about being his niece from America. His store was a journey back in time, with shelves of shoes and clothing behind the counter and metal bars protecting the owner. His store had no cobbler supplies but in front of his shop a man was making sandals from old tires. Just the skill the hospital needed! Vusi was eager to chat (wonderful characteristic of all South Africans) and showed us the tires, soles he cut from the tires, and the white wall strips for straps. He agreed to come to the Hospital and teach his craft.

On Monday morning he called and said he was on his way and asked for directions to the Hospital. He had misunderstood that the Hospital was an hour away by taxi and that the last 4 km was a long walk down the dirt road. Vusi was a good sport and arrived just as he promised. Thirty men (and women) plus staff onlookers gathered in the Chapel to learn the tricks of turning throwaway tires into sturdy shoes. First step was to cut the tire apart and make the forms for the soles. He prepared patterns for the sole and leather top, cut the inner sole, glued and tacked the sandal together. Next week he is coming back to teach vinyl straps, impala and whitewall. A trip to the shopping town produced a source for the tires, which cannot be steel belted and need to be very thin so that they can be easily cut by the patients. The owner of a tire shop had a stash behind the store and offered them for free for the taking. Amazing how a stash of discarded tires can make one feel so good!

Shoes are very important to South Africans and no tuck shop (equivalent of 7-11 on a very small scale) is without shoe polish. The Peace Crops training advised that South Africans look at your shoes first and determine your character by the cleanliness and care of your shoes. Peace Corps volunteers were chided for their dirty sneakers and scuffed sandals. The streets have many shoe repair stalls with instant shoe repair. New heel blanks are put on shoes and cut to fit. Hopefully, the men will learn cobbler skills and find a way of using those skills when then go back to their village. Several of the men are enterprising and planning to make fleece hats or scarves for sale.

Ubabas (Adult Men) and their Creations in the Occupational Therapy Program

2007-05-12T21:20:00.000+02:00

The men at Mountain High Hospital have been turning out to sew fleece hats and scarves for the cold nights. Here are some of their creations. Each design is unique and they find ways to make them look smart with tassels, fringe, pompoms and a jaunty slant.

Durban Beach

2007-05-12T21:08:00.000+02:00

Rickshaw drivers are true artists with unique, over the top decor for their carts
North Beach on a quiet day. Reminded me of Santa Monica Bay.

Umamas and Ubabas-the Mamas and the Papas

2007-05-08T22:10:00.000+02:00

Comming back to work from a 5day break in Durban was a 220v volt. Many administrative tasks needed to be done and the two patient groups- the Mamas and the Papas were hankering for their supplies and group entertainment. The big surprise was that the Mamas (uMamas), in our absence, had put together THREE new quilts for future babies born at Mountain High Hospital. The colors were pink, green and purple prints in amazing combinations of color and style fitting for a Zulu prince or princess. Our Durban shopping expedition produced Zulu beads galore to excite any craft craver and yardage of fleece, knits and prints that were limited only by what could be carried the last 4 km in our packs.

The Ubabas (the men’s group) have started to coalesce. Ten to fifteen men rally round and saunter into the chapel to see what Nonhlanhla (my Zulu name meaning Fortune) has to offer for their needs for warmth or comfort or entertainment. The men are rounded up at 930am and show up looking for fleece to make warm hats, socks, or small bags to hold money or cell phones. (Hospital pajamas do not have pockets for personal items). The men are very careful and meticulous about their sewing. They are interested in creating strong, useful items that will serve them well as patients and their discharge. They are also interested in style. 3 Meters of grey, black and red fleece was cut into hats and scarves for the men. The sewing was careful and the designs truly individual as they personalized each item with fringe, pom poms, a jaunty slant or cuff at the bottom. The hospital grounds are filled with men in their snappy attire. After all of the fleece was gone, they experimented with cell phone bags (Almost every African has a cell phone), larger bags for shaving gear, even larger bags to hold personal possessions, patchwork quilts in Zulu fabric and beading to decorate the bags. The men are stoic when favored materials are used up. (The women show more expression and disappointment). The men’s group starts off with the same format as the women’s- a prayer and a song, except that the young chaplain is available to engage the men. Expectations are high for the promised shoe making program which will start soon. Shoe sizes have been taken. Early scouting trips for materials were disappointing but this week the Zulu kingdom headquarters of Nongoma will be foraged to find the necessary soles and materials.

The Umamas (makotis-wives) are creating beautiful bead and clothing designs. The clothes are hand sewn from fabric remnants from a shop that specializes in South African fabrics. The 20 women gather to see who will pick the number one ticket from the hat each day, after the prayer and song. That makoti (wife) or entombi (young girl) selects what sewing or craft project she would like from the assortment of materials available for the day. Of course now the problem is that he occupational therapy program is very successful, and the limitations of materials and transport to this remote community limit this abundant approach. So the trick now is to design a realistic program for each day of a two month cycle, taking into account the abilities of the patients, to make materials stretch over the next year of the grant. The added job is to try to find a way of teaching new skills to every patient that participates and can then take the skills back to the village to teach other persons or market their new skills. Two sewing machines will be purchased in the next few weeks to teach machine sewing skills to the women.

The Ubabas and Umamas have been so prolific in their creations and industry that it is time again to put on a Fashion Show so on May 18 the Second Mountain High Fashion Show will be held to highlight the creativity of the patients at Mountain High Hospital and Positive Living for All. Please Come and Join the Fun! Promise to publish some great pic.

Last Saturday was a Fashion Show of a different bent. The local hospice put on their annual fashion show fundraiser and our attendance and voyeurism embarked on another view of rural South Africa. The Hospice in town is housed in a residential neighborhood with a beautiful backyard. Each supporting group had their own table. We walked in unawares and found an empty table next to a buffet table laden with spice cakes, scones, quiches, and savory tarts. Soon a foursome of funloving gals joined our table and we exchanged stories of life after the midway point. Some stories were parallel as a grandmother has a granddaughter at UCLA and children in Irvine. Some stories were harder to understand as the women discussed their concerns about crime in the new South Africa. At times the conversation seemed very familiar and comforting, especially when discussing the great sweets (candy to Americans, lekker to Afrikaans). We finally felt a bond with a local group albeit only on the basis of sugar highs from the great South African sweet industry. In other discussion we like we were from the moon with no insight as to local culture, custom, current events or their experiences. However, it was fun to be included in a group and to join the ladies at a local restaurant for a drink after the amazing array of fashions were presented. This is a very smartly turned out country and the designers put their best efforts into creating fabulous gowns with layers of silk, tulle, ruffles and beads. I whispered to one of our table mates that I loved the gowns but wondered where all the great parties were happening where one could wear the elaborate concoctions.

Bees and Babies

2007-05-01T11:26:00.000+02:00

Blurrbs from Durbs

2007-05-01T11:24:00.000+02:00

Today we listened to the sounds of Heaven at a choral competition in the City Hall in Durban. Community choirs, university choral groups and long established choirs competed for the provincial music title here in the cultural capital of KwaZuluNatal. This is what makes a city – serendipity and cultural events that draw the populace, entertain, and create an exciting, competitive atmosphere. As we walked the City streets, buses of red, cream, crimson, and white satined gowned women and tuxedoed men unloaded in front of the old City Hall (a moldy version of Greek Revival from Belfast, Ireland). Sniffing an event about to begin, we made inquiries and discovered that the provincial Choir Festival Competition was about to start. We jumped at the chance to hear some live music, paid the 20 rand (3 dollars) for tickets and entered the beautiful hall with the massive organ pipes holding center stage. The choir festival reminded me of marching band field shows in the US-the participants playing with their hair, looking around, smoothing their dresses until their choir director walks out on the stage, bows and turns to lead them. Then the amateurs turn into dedicated professionals as the individuals become one and sing from their soul. Their unpretentious faces took on the look of intensity, passion and serious business. The a capella singing and multiple harmonies were gorgeous to country folk looking for city entertainment. A Hadyn cantata piece was followed by a classical African composition with Zulu words. The finale was choir’s choice of their best. One choir selected a Zulu piece with numerous clicks so that not only did the choir have to stay in tune and on time but the clicks all had to occur simultaneously. Half time speech was given by the daughter of Nobel Peace Prize Albert Luthuli, who stated that her father had found the time to lead choirs and that the music represented the best of the new South Africa. I thought about all of the choir teachers at St. Peters by the Sea and public schools who worked so hard to give the gift of music to my children (without thanks) and the pleasure and joy that the experience had given our whole family.

This weekend marked our first trip to Durban and we are having a fine time!! Tales of muggings on the city streets and crowded beaches have kept us at a distance but this 5 day weekend (started with Freedom day on the 27th and ends with Workers Day on the 1st) seemed like the time to explore our closest city and scout out Zulu beading bargains for the patient occupational therapy program at Mountain High Hospital. Durban is not as chic or first world as Cape Town but it has its own charms. The climate is tropical and the gardens are endowed with blooming flowers, ferns, bananas, and palms in the humid atmosphere. The botanical garden is free and loaded with cycads, prehistoric plants that loom like trees. Along the beach, Zulu rickshaw drivers hold their own competitions for the most extravagant outlandish rickshaw décor. The carnival spirit at the beach is a combination of Phuket and Venice Beach with the bay looking like Santa Monica Bay, causing a twinge of homesickness. The flat city center is ringed with hilly, pleasant residential neighborhoods with outdoor cafes, gardens, small b and b’s and beautiful views of the harbor and ocean surf. Lunch beckoned at the “Taco Zulu” the first taste of Mexican food since we left the US 10 months ago. Simple burritos and salsa never tasted so delicious.

Freedom Day, April 27, marks the beginning of the new Democracy in South Africa – in1994 everyone turned out the vote and a new country was born. Today, Sunday, April 29. A minister at a church in Durban discussed his views on the meaning of Freedom in South Africa. He described training monitors in 1994 in anticipation that there could be a blood bath on election day. He also described the expectations of the liberated people- hopes for a matric (high school diploma) , a job and a house. Thirteen years later the new democracy is still trying to meet these expectations as well as more basic needs such as water and electricity for rural areas. The minister described true freedom as casting off the chains of grievances, grudges, and hatred and putting on love for all people.

The real find of the weekend was the Zulu bead emporium with unbelievable prices and selection. Back in our shopping town of Vryheid, we had been told about the wonders of a shop called Everlasting in Durban where every imaginable gift or craft item could be obtained at less than wholesale prices. We trudged along and found the store, which was located across from a hotel advertising a room for R69 a couple and R129 for overnight. The entrance to Everlasting was a two story cement stairwell. At the top of the stairs, a metal detector screened for weapons. From there one is directed to a bank of lockers with detachable keys for bag storage. After roving dozens of aisles in this monolith devoted to toys, hair pieces, party favors, artificial flowers, someone directed me to the bead department. Every color, style, size, shape, of bead was displayed – metallic, pearlized, glass, plastic, pastels, primary colors, and all in bulk quantities. The choices were too many and the journey home with the heavy beads to onerous Should I keep the bag of hot pink 2 mm glass beads for those young girls that love pink? What about the men who are coming at 930am to their own Jabule group and want real Zulu beads in orange, green, purple and black.

The gathering of the men this week was another serendipity event. The last few weeks the women’s Jabule has had an occasional drop-in male patient but on Monday 8 men came to the Hospital Business office and requested fleece to make hats for the cold nights on the mountain. I gathered up the fabric, called the Chaplain to assist and led the now 12 men into the chapel to begin a formalized men’s handcraft group. I cut fleece hats for them and they requested scarves as well. The fleece was depleted fairly quickly but there is always another trip to town to buy what they need. A Hospital employee has promised to teach the males shoe repair and construction so in a few weeks when the Peace Corps grant money has arrived, we will buy soles for each male patient and teach them how to make a simple sandal. Many of the men do not have shoes or socks of any kind.

Shoe repair and cobbler skills are desired by the men. Unemployment is very high so shoes are a luxury for many men. They want to make their own shoes and learn to repair shoes. Several stores in town sell soles and materials to construct simple sandals

Exciting news this week!! First a young woman delivered a baby on Tuesday and the Jabule quilt was given to her for the new baby. On Wed. I announced to the 18 women in the handwork group that we would start a new quilt for the next baby that is born to replace the one given to the young mother. There were a few anxious looks when I handed out 10 fabric squares to each woman and asked her to sew the squares together to make a row for the new quilt. By Thursday most of the women had sewn their 10 squares together and were ready to assemble the whole quilt together.

Brendon got word from the Peace Corps that his grant application for the AIDs orphans and vulnerable children Psycho Social Support Camp has been approved and we will be assisting the Hospital Administrator in running a camp in July as a pilot project. You are all invited to come and help. Blessings are multiplying at Mountain High and opportunities seem to pop up daily

The Sting and the Honey

2007-04-21T16:26:00.000+02:00

Last week I whined about the worry from late income tax payments (Thanks to our son Erik and his law firm, we are saved from a second federal career at Leavenworth, Kansas). This week we hit a more painful sting!
On Wednesday the beautiful female maintenance worker who is an electrician, came to my office and whispered that she wanted to show me something. I followed her out to the wards and she pointed up to the fluorescent light fixture in the glass enclosed hallway. Hundreds of bees were sleeping on the ends of the fixture in cool misty morning. We then walked through the porch corridor and spotted hundreds more bees sleeping on the fixtures making the white metal dark brown in appearance. Discussion of the ramifications brought some concern as to what might occur when the ward warmed up and the bees came to life. Also the source and purpose of the bees foray into the hospital remained a mystery.
I walked back to the Admin Building and someone pointed out an old chimney on the ward with swarms of bees hovering around the abandoned tower. It appeared that the bees had chosen the old chimney as a hive and the hospital as home. Calls to off site administrators provided several means of dealing with the problem. Get a bee keeper (couldn’t happen until the weekend) or flood the chimney with Fumitabs vapor and quickly seal off the hive. The day was spent in locating the Fumitabs and by Thursday we were ready for war with the bees who amazingly had not stung any patients and were pretty good neighbors.
Thursday morning came and the Maintenance Dept was ready for combat. The Maintenance Supervisor came to my flat and I outfitted him with Peace Corps mosquito netting wrapped around a trekking hat. He and a helper took a ladder and climbed up on the tin roof to the chimney. Alas, instead of throwing the Fumitabs into the hive, quickly covering the chimney and getting the heck out, they dawdled. I went out of the office to see what was happening and was astounded to seem them fooling around with the contents of the hive. Within a few seconds I was swarmed by angry bees that had just had home and hearth ripped apart. The bees were trapped by my long hair and starting stinging my scalp, face and hands. I ran back to our flat behind the office and smashed the trapped bees dead against my scalp. I pulled stingers out of my hands and grabbed for cans of DOOM, the local insecticide. The burn began. I twisted my hair into a tight knot against my head and pulled dead bees out of the tresses. This was one time I wished I had followed several Peace Corps Volunteers examples and gone for the shave. I went back into the safety of the office and the youth chaplain looked at me and pulled a stinger out of my eyelid. ( I don’t know if this has anything to do with Biblical admonitions about beams and motes in the eyes but on this day my stinger was removed by a spiritual healer.)
For the life of me I could not understand all the dawdling and fooling around on the tin roof. When I looked out the window the picture became clear. Its all about the HONEY!! The two maintenance employees were pulling the honeycombs out one by one and throwing them onto the tin roof of the wards, releasing all of the angry bees. I started calling to the nurses warning them to close the windows of the hospital and trying to get the patients into the wards. No one moved from their vigils outside next to the chimney. In fact a carnival atmosphere took over the whole hospital. The meek supervisor of the storeroom arrived with a feather duster and started swatting the swarming bees. (he later had to wear sunglasses to hide his swollen face). Several male patients could not be moved as they said they were used to bees. A female registered nurse was cautioned as she neared the fray but stated that Jesus would protect her. The homeless bees swarmed on the roof on the ward as the honeycombs made their way down to the hungry masses. The ladder slipped as the maintenance supervisor climbed back to the ground but he grabbed the fascia and rolled his legs around the ladder. The booty was moved to the yard next to the workshop and the workers and patients gathered to admire the hunters, gatherers, and treasure. They picked off pieces of the forbidden fruit and bit into the hardwon sweet. Smiles and looks of victory were exchanged.
The next day the price of victory became apparent. Many employees (thankfully no patients were stung) were suffering from beestings. The mood of the hospital was very quiet. This experience was a lesson in differing perceptions of danger and the oneness that Zulus share with nature. However, after 3 days my stings are still smarting and my face is swollen. I may not be ready for another lesson in nature’s bounty. I also wonder if the queen is still in the chimney as a few bees are still buzzing around.

Taxing Troubles

2007-04-15T11:25:00.000+02:00

Blog 15 april

Today is April 15 and Uncle Sam beckons for that which is due for 2006. Our taxes have not been filed. The Peace Corps lessons on Patience and Flexibility soften our anger, stress and frustration at our inability to accomplish a business task and the lack of control we have over our former lives in the United States.

Control and security are two buzzwords in America and middle class, middle age types take extraordinary measures to insure themselves, organize their finances and personal lives, and assess the risk of every daily activity. Peace Corps volunteers can take personal security measures but they cannot control communication, business in the US and transport.

Last June as we prepared to leave our home in Palos Verdes for two years, we sought advice on how to file our personal income taxes. We went to a CPA and provided data, documents and contact numbers and he agreed to prepare the tax returns for 2006. When January came along we forwarded the tax documents to the accountant and looked forward to getting the return by mail or email. When no return arrived by March, we emailed him and received the reply that he was swamped and would work on the return over the weekend. By last week we started to be concerned. A phone call to his office produced no response and our property manager’s inquiry produced no goods. The return is too complicated for us to do ourselves as our home was turned into a rental. So we sit today in South Africa feeling somewhat anxious, but utterly helpless as to what action can be taken. (Several of our contacts have tried to reassure us with the fact that taxes are not due until the 17th). Even if they arrived tomorrow, we may not have functioning email and the Hospital does not have a fax. Advice for potential Peace Corps volunteers-Try to cut all business ties to the US before you leave home.

So maybe after our tour of duty as Peace Corps volunteers, we will be housed in another Federal facility, Leavenworth. LOL. So all is not perfect in this beautiful country. In fact, most of the frustrations in our version of the Peace Corps are based on dealings with the US- three weeks for air mail to arrive at great cost; poor reception, delay, echo and disconnect from phone calls; no access to fax machines, intermittent email at night and no email in the day; and difficulty paying bills from South Africa. Control is held near and dear to American hearts. This experience in the third world 12,000 miles away has taught more than flexibility-seek peace and serenity in the midst of discord. The problems we have encountered have worked out, although not on our timetable. Fretting about the things one cannot control is not productive and our tasks here are so compelling that business and personal issues in the US fade in their importance. Our concern today is whether we can get a taxi back to the hospital this afternoon, how far we have to walk with our loaded shopping bags, and how to accurately do the payroll tomorrow so that no employee is cheated out of one rand. Dealing with the patients is a reminder of how blessed we are to have good health, confidence, and hope for the future.

The Jabule group is growing in numbers, energy and enthusiasm every day. This week the patients were hand sewing skirts, fleece hats for winter, dresses for their daughters, shopping bags with beading, and Zulu jewelry. A find was a load of old telephone cable on a junk pile which was stripped by the male patients, producing beautifully colored copper wires which will be woven in baskets. Dangly Zulu beaded earrings with the red and white AIDS symbol were made by some of the patients. Five new women joined the group and made head scarves as their first project. We celebrated a great week of Sizabuntu (Community Helping Project) by making No Bake Cookies on Friday, with the nurses translating the ingredients for the patients. We are outgrowing the small TV lounge and the time required to cut out each project and provide materials to each patient increases but the women are good natured. Thankfully, the Peace Corps grant will provide volunteer helpers to assist very soon.

Pics from the Berg

2007-04-15T08:49:00.000+02:00