Dinnertime at Kruger

Outdoor Kitchen At Kruger

Entertainment Waiting for the Taxi to Fill

Moth that Visited our Flat One Night

Sunset at Mountain High

Zulu Fashion Show Models

Mountain High Forest Delights

The trip back from Kruger National Park and Peace Corps Training to our volunteer site at a TB/AIDS hospital in the mountains of Kwa Zulu Natal was harder psychologically than expected. Perhaps two weeks is too long to be away from a Peace Corps volunteer site and there is the temptation to forget the true purpose for coming to South Africa. The rental car was turned in and we faced the long walk across the taxi rank loaded with packs, luggage and some anxiety. Taxi ranks cover an entire city block and consist of thousands of people milling around with taxi vans heading in every direction, buses, and vendors trying to sell the travelers bags of chips, fruit, cell phone covers, underwear, cold drinks, clothes pin and every other imaginable household item. We found the right bus with no difficulty and began to enjoy greeting the other passengers and being part of the scene. The pleasure of Africa is its people and their extraordinary effort to include you as one of them. Lesson learned, however, bring no more than a small grocery bag and your traveling pleasure will greatly increase.

After two weeks away from the hospital and patients, it was time to return to our duties. So when Monday morning rolled around it was a pleasure to greet the patients and staff and tell them about the fabulous sights of their country and inquire about their well being. They were genuinely glad to see us and we were glad to see them and get back to work. They had many requests for sewing and handwork supplies and seemed eager to start new projects. A few patients in the sewing group had declined and were sent to the nonambulatory wards but most seemed stronger and more articulate about their needs, wants and goals for the future.

Due to our routine of spending the weekends in town for shopping, phone calls home, internet access and church, we have not fully explored the gorgeous mountain site for the hospital which is a wilderness preserve and indigenous forest home to 300 birds, baboons and waterfalls. So the last few Sundays at Mountain High, we set out on hikes to enjoy the bounty. This Sunday was spent hiking from our Mountain High home to a shrine and tea plantation in the nearby forest. We hoped that the hike to the tea plantation and shrine was manageable but we had no map, a mild day turned into a torrential storm and the 7 mile return was shrouded in dense fog. I am sure the views from the shrine are gorgeous but they will have to wait for a clear day. The tea plantation held more interest than the fog covered shrine. Tea bushes were overgrown and intertwined with lovely red and green passion fruit vines. A canopy of palms bearing red fruit outlined the tea bushes with a festive tropical look. No one has worked at the tea plantation recently due to a labor dispute but the miles of tea bushes beg for someone to care for them. No surprise when the office complex for the Tea Plantation housed a “Tea Room”. Tea time is a sacred rite in South Africa when all work stops at 10am for the required cup of tea, biscuit and social exchange. My coworkers are astounded when I tell them that coffee breaks in America have fallen into the same dust bin as Christmas bonuses, and 8 hour work days.

The hike last month to the wilderness preserve in the indigenous forest was truly an adventure. After walking down the dirt and rock road to the tar road, we walked for 2 km to a sign for the Ngome Indigenous Forest and Bee Station. We walked down the road to the forestry station which consisted of 7 homes for the foresters and offices. Signs warned that trespassing was forbidden without permits from the Forestry Office (which was closed). We finally located the forester on duty and he showed us the trail and told us to enjoy ourselves. We then entered the beautiful indigenous forest with canopies of trees overhead, lovely orchards and tropical flowers, carpets of ferns next to waterfalls and beautiful calls from birds. KwaZuluNatal is covered with planted forests of pine and gum but the birds and wildlife prefer indigenous forests. The planted forests are beautiful to walk through but are devoid of the sounds of life. We passed no one on the trail in the forest but got lost and hiked 12 miles instead of the 6 we had planned. The hoped for loop trail only carried us further and further into the 40 miles of trail in the wilderness passing by the refuge of a Zulu warrior. At last we gave up and returned the way we had come, fording the beautiful creeks and enjoying the bird calls. Finally a few km from the entrance two baboons and a baby were spotted on the track. They watched us intently and then retreated into the bush. A little farther up three more baboons came out to enjoy the day. They were also quite shy. We had been warned not to throw rocks at the baboons as they pick up the rocks and return the favor. Truly a pleasurable day in the woods!

Training RoundUp and Kruger Game Sighting

I've been a bit tardy in my weekly blogs due to Peace Corps training (10 days) coupled with a quick trip to Kruger National Park, but am now back at Mountain High Hospital trying to process all of the inputs of the last few days and get ready for the work to be done here.

Peace Corps Inservice Training was a chance to reconnect with the other 30 volunteers from the original capacity building NGO group, learn some new skills-i.e. Zulu and project planning, and journey back to the first world to get a perspective on our Peace Corps experience. The ten days of training had plenty of content and lots of laughs as we retold stories of misunderstandings, misinformation and mistakes. Plus there was plenty of do-gooder tales, missions gone right and wrong, boredom/overwork, and the wrong/right fit for assignments. The volunteers had their chance to complain about unmet expectations and their NGOs voiced concerns about the sloppy Americans with their dirty sneakers and unmade beds. The chance to share experiences made me realize that life in the Peace Corps is truly unique for every person-a mix of personality, placement, country, assignment and serendipity. I also realized that the Bonds hit the jackpot with the work at Mountain High in terms of interest, enjoyment, utilization of skills, NGO need’s assessment, and personal fulfillment. Will the honeymoon last? Hope so! A new realization hit that maybe the most remote rural assignment in South Africa might be the greatest gift of all as the numerous concerns about personal safety and urban hazards in the taxi renks were a concern for many peace corps volunteers.

After our Christmas tour through five of the pristine game preserves in Kwa Zulu Natal (Ithala, Imfolozi, St. Lucia, Mkuze, and Phongolo) we were prepared to be disappointed in the granddaddy of national parks devoted to animal conservation, Kruger National Park. One’s mental picture of Kruger is Yosemite National Park on a crowded summer day with waits to enter the park, smog in the valley from the cars and campfires, and crowds crowing at the waterfalls and bears. Kruger was not that kind of experience and deserves its renowned reputation. The Park is very large, uncrowded with many paved and dirt roads inviting exploration. Friends have asked how long one has to wait to view one of the Big Five (lions, leopards, cape buffalo, rhino, and elephants). In fact, one does not wait to see the animals. Rather, the voyeur sets out in a vehicle and leisurely drives the scenic roads to see what turns up. This trip included a pride of lions stalking the dirt road near the camp looking for prey at dusk, elephants with their young feeding on the foliage, annoyed elephant interrupted chewing amarula fruit and giving warning by breaking a branch in front of the vehicle, rhinos scratching what itched on fallen logs 20 feet away, and herds of cape buffalo glancing menacingly at the viewers. (Cape buffalo are known as “Dagger Boys” due to their unpredictable behavior). Sightings of leopards and cheetahs are more rare but what is truly enjoyable is watching the non-big five herds and their meanderings-giraffes with their young feasting on tall trees, the interesting silhouettes of the park which continue to the horizon in all directions, the grazing antelope (impalas, nyalas, and waterbuck) and the entertainment sections provided by monkeys and baboons.

Kruger has accommodations for every category of tourist. We chose the self-catering rondavals with thatched roof, outdoor kitchen and natural rock pool nearby. Unfortunately we did not read the warnings about storing food properly in the outdoor kitchen and found remnants of our carefully selected granola, cheese sticks and crackers scattered all over the porch when we returned from a game drive the first day. Some very happy monkeys were spotted nearby. The wart hogs and impala lazing in front of the rondaval did not seem interested in people food, however, and were immensely pleasurable to watch as they were in constant motion yet content to enjoy the warm afternoon. Likewise, the birds in this remarkable place. One suspects that everyone who travels here becomes a birder as the temptation is too great and the pleasure too much to ignore the beauty- sights and sounds of the 400 species of birds in South Africa. All are new to Americans and are visual and aural delights. Kruger was filled with iridescent purple-winged birds. The night drive manifested hundreds of yellowed-eyed owls guarding the road as we passed along. The night has a thousand eyes and they are all yellow! Pretoria yielded an amazing red headed black speckled bird with black ring around the neck and grey body as we bird watched from the garden in the B and B two weeks ago before transport to training.

Tonight we are back in our one room flat at Mountain High Hospital. The day we left for training, the electricity was out and the water pump had died (again). The Hospital seems like home and we are glad to be back to do the work we have come to do. Don t worry that we have left our animal friends behind. Toads have moved into our flat unawares and the Bonds will rise up to the task of removing all amphibians from their humble abode before the night is over.

Zulu Fashion Show Rocks

Fashion hit Mountain High Hospital like a torrential rain that drenched the patients, staff and community with showers of blessings. Like all experiences in uncharted waters, the fashion show had moments of uncertainty and worry but the purpose was to provide entertainment for patients for an hour or so, take their minds off their illnesses and highlight the Zulu beading teacher that had been our guest for the last two weeks. Even a bad, poorly attended fashion show would be better than none! The Zulu fashion show took a life of its own-a better description would be that the Community Grabbed the Diversion and turned it into a Big Event utilizing their ingenuity, expression and creativity. To kick off the Fashion Week, advertisements were posted around the valley and the hospital inviting everyone to come to the Mountain View Fashion Show and promised Zulu Fashions, Music and Refreshments.

All fashion shows must have a rehearsal so the day before the volunteer models gathered to learn how to walk, turn, and display their outfits. The rehearsal was a lot of fun as the Step, Step, Step, Turn, Smile, Turn were demonstrated. The AIDS Counselor was recruited as the announcer and she jumped into the roll with ease and grace. The list of models and outfits was prepared with a jaunty description of where the model might be heading in their special outfit. “Here is Sipho in his orange and green hand painted shirt headed for a night on the town in Newcastle. What a gorgeous guy.” The models included 6 patients, 3 nursing staff and one office worker. They giggled as they practiced their steps, turns and hand motions. The models were instructed to make sure they were gorgeous for the big show.

The morning of the fashion show tables were set up to display the handwork done by the patients and staff and post banners with turquoise birds announcing the show. No event in Zululand is complete without blasting rock music so by 1030am the hospital was rocking. Slowly the patients, residents of the valley and nursing staff began trickling into the chapel rocking in time to the music, many in traditional Zulu dress or other African garb. The trickle turned into a torrent as the chapel filled with people looking to have a good time. I quietly suggested to the announcer that she should turn down the music and signal the models to move to the rear for the show. Instead the rhythm of the event escalated and more people arrived boogying down the aisle (including officials from the church sponsoring the hospital.) After 30 minutes of this entry the announcer called the models to congregate to the rear where I expected the fashion show to begin. Instead the models lined up, the volume of the music cranked up and they each did their dance as they came down the aisle and paraded behind the pulpit in their fabulous Zulu outfits and blue hospital issues. The ten models each had their 15 seconds of fame; then, instead of quietly sitting down, they repeated the parade. The audience began cheering as the dance routines became more and more intricate and expressive. The announcer just smiled and enjoyed the spontaneous expression of art and creativity. After the models finally finished the hospital domestic employees in their pink uniforms went to the rear, made signals to each other and began prancing down the aisle dancing Zulu style with perfect foot rhyme, bumps, jerks and a big smile. The shy nursing students decided it was their turn and they gathered in the rear to practice their gig and come down the aisle in partners jiving to the music. Soon it was time for the head nurse, director’s wife and church official to do their stuff which was pretty good for management but did not match the domestics for enthusiasm and art. Individuals in Zulu dress began to steal the show but the highlight of the parade was the domestic in pink uniform coupled with a nurse in Zulu attire bumping as they swayed down the aisle.

After an hour of this amazing spontaneous expression of the joy for living, the music went down and Monki, the Zulu beading teacher, danced to the front and told her life story, speaking boldly about beauty and faith conquering despair and withdrawal. After her talk the floor opened up to individual artistic contributions as a chaplain trainee performed a dance about the great race of faith, two staff members sang solos (one was rendition of Rock of Ages using only the three words), a boys choir appeared from the school next door and sang Zulu melodies, church officials gave a blessing on the gathering and Monki was thanked for her extraordinary contribution.

The fashion show was held on a very warm day in KwaZuluNatal and after two hours of dancing and cheering the performers, the crowd was thirsty. As many things in Africa, the water supply dried up that morning and cups were nowhere to be found to make tea for that huge crowd. As spontaneous as the gathering occurred, money for purchasing canned soft drinks also appeared and the crowd finished their day of fashion with homemade biscuits, tarts, nobake cookies and drinks. It may have not met the standards of Strowbridge Junior High School, circa 1961, but the small attempt to entertain the patient population turned into a wonderful outpouring of local culture and articulated the need for celebrations and joy in this place. The residents know how to put on a show. They only need a forum. Big learning day for Peace Corps Volunteers!

Royalty and Fashion Week at Mountain High

Brendon and I joined the Peace Corps to fulfill a lifetime dream, have some fun and maybe do some good!! Our remote location, 80 km to the nearest grocery store, seems an unlikely site for two middle-aged city people who love good restaurants and fine music. However, our dreams are fulfilled on a daily basis. This week topped the cake when a much loved Zulu princess came to visit the patient therapy sewing group and wanted to hear about our lives in the Peace Corps. She resides in Nongoma, the official headquarters for the Zulu Kingdom. The Zulu King traces directly back to Shaka, one of the history’s greatest strategists. The princess, however, won our hearts with her beauty and graciousness. She sat down on the wood bench with the patients in her lovely black gown and discussed Zulu culture. She did not announce her special status but walked in with a young boy and joined the group. Her bearing, clothing and impeccable English made me wonder who she was and how she found our sewing circle in the hospital chapel. She merely stated that she was from Nongoma. I, almost jokingly, asked if she was a princess and she said YES. I then charged back through my Peace Corps cultural training to find the proper response- Does one bow, curtsy, lower folded hands? Somehow the Peace Corps had overlooked this essential training in the cultural sessions and I drew a blank. The Princess saved the day by extending her hand for a western style handshake. She explained that she had business in the area and had been told about the women’s group and wanted to see the activities. By the way the Princess drives a silver KIA!

The Jabule therapy group this week was led by an African woman from Soweto who is an expert at Zulu beading and crafts. The director of the hospital had been praising this gifted woman since our arrival in Sept. and lo and behold she showed up Monday to teach the patients beading and sewing methods. In addition, she added exercises, group therapy, singing and dancing to the repertoire of the sewing circle; quitting time was kicked out to 4pm. The eight patients showed amazing stamina as they got the hang of the beading and picked up speed. On Monday she pulled out her wares-beaded necklaces, bracelets, dolls, aprons, purses, bags, white suede skirts, and traditional Zulu dance garb made out of impala skins. The first project tackled by the patients consisted of sewing a red glass bead border on a small cell phone bag. The beads form their own lace design as the needle is reinserted into a previously strung bead. The second project of the week was an elaborate six layer necklace that lies like a collar with colored bands of plastic bead extending to the shoulders. Some women were able to make two or three of these creations.

She told her life story that read like a tragedy; orphaned at four, mistreated by an uncle, hospitalized for 6 months with disc problems with four children to raise alone. Hers is also a life of faith with the church playing the stabilizing role in her life. This graceful woman also interwove art and creativity into every aspect of her life. On Friday she repeated her story to the patients in the Hospital’s AIDS Support Group who come together to try to find some meaning in their lives. Her T shirt and head scarf bore the telling message “Love Life”.

In conversation, it came up that the women would enjoy having a forum for their artistic endeavors to include all of the knitting/crochet and clothing they have hand sewn. Voila! Time for a fashion show. Thus the Mountain High Fashion Show will be held Thursday with patients and nurses modeling Zulu attire and jewelry, music, refreshments, boutique and a message about Beauty and Faith from our beading teacher Monki. This must be a first for a TB hospital in Africa! Of course most of the models will primarily be wearing hospital blue but it is a good background color for their creations. Hopefully, the parade of beauty will be able to make rounds through the hospital so that the bedridden patients can have a look at the Zulu art. They are bored with the sameness of the hospital bed 24 hours a day. This will be a busy week with the patients sewing and beading items for the boutique and practicing their fashion modeling. Step, step, step turn! Sure wish we had a makeup artist!

Summer Back to School-Guns on Board

School starts next week in South Africa so the Mountain residents and town businesses are abuzz with parents anxiously buying school uniforms and supplies. The taxi to Vryheid filled up in a hurry at 6am today with shoppers getting their kids ready for school, just like September back to school at home. The children have been on summer vacation for two months with Christmas being a double whammy of holiday and freedom from school. The boarding students add a dynamic to the mountain top that we enjoy as they sing every night at 9 pm on their return to their dorms from study hall. They always have a cool greeting hanging around on the dirt road. The 60 boys in the boarding school are chaperoned by only one adult and have no soccer team or other activities to keep them busy. The Hospital had hoped that the Bond’s would organize a team and coach the boys but volunteering as a Ref for the AYSO league in Palos Verdes does not qualify one for coaching 17 year olds looking for blood. The kids here play soccer with a vengeance and are very skilled but need a coach to learn strategy. If anyone out there has a calling…..

The taxi ride started tamely enough, even though the mist of Mountain High enshrouded our home. One kilometer down the dirt road a small antelope (one of the small boks- reebok, springbok, bleesbok) sprang across the meadow. This was the first game that we have seen so close to home. Mr. Zulu, the driver got a big grin on his face and confidently pulled out a gun from the side of the car while driving through the mist. He then waved the gun at the antelope and we joked that it looked like a braai (barbeque) tonight. Fortunately he put the gun away and returned to driving the taxi down the mountain. We were almost incredulous seeing the ease that he produced the weapon while driving but safety issues in this Country probably require taxi drivers, bus drivers and truckers to be prepared to defend themselves and protect their cargos. There is an edge to South Africa that detracts from the enjoyment. The citizens are a strange combination of courtesy and kindness mixed with fear, suspicion and vigilance. We are constantly being warned not to picnic next to the roads, to hide our cash all over our bodies and carry a “dummy wallet” for muggers, stay inside at night, and avoid looking like a tourist. At the same time the locals are amazingly generous and trusting. A motel owner offered her car to us to drive to a local restaurant so that we wouldn’t have to walk at night. (we declined-Peace Corps does not allow driving when not on leave). When I thought I had missed the bus to Richards Bay because of delays at the beauty shop, the owner offered to drive me to the next stop to meet the bus. Eight Peace Corps members have been mugged out of our group of 80, but we have never even felt uncomfortable or endangered in any way. So it is hard to generalize but we are grateful we have two years to come to an understanding of South Africa.

Our front row seats in the taxi next to Mr. Zulu are a mixed blessing in spite of being more spacious (only 3 passengers can ride in the front row, the other rows are limited only by one’s imagination and aggressiveness). The middle front seat passenger is required to collect the taxi fare from all passengers and make change. The first step is to count the total number of passengers and multiply by the 22 Rand fare. This is the easy part. Then the money starts coming forward, change made for those R100 bills and the change passed back to the passengers. Mr. Zulu does not participate in this process-he is only interested in the final sun meeting his target. This process is full of room for errors and misunderstandings. The 50 cent coin looks like the 5 cent coin. Sometimes there is no change available and the passengers have to juggle around to make the fares come out right. The taxi does not deliver the passengers until the total is right-today 16 passengers (and 2 infants) = R352. I secretly hoped that we would be reassigned seats as the job requires too many skills for newcomers but today I looked around to the back of the taxi after all the change had been made and one woman announced that “Finished”, a good sign that no one was shortchanged. Today Mr. Zulu did not ask Brendon to fill out lotto numbers. I guess our luck is up or he got tired of losing the last four months with the Bond’s picks. Maybe our luck will come during the police traffic stops and his taxi is not put out of commission. Today the windshield wipers were working so we appreciate improvements, even in small doses. The government is trying to phase out the old unsafe taxis but there is resistance due to added costs for the owner.

The work at the Hospital was brightened this week by the arrival of 14 nursing students doing a monthly rotation in the TB wards. They live in rondavals on the hospital grounds without TV, cinemas, shopping, fast food or boyfriends. Their arrival brought an expansion of the Jabule Sewing group as they were solicited by some of the bedridden patients to obtain sewing and yarn materials from my stash to pass the hours in bed. Two of the nursing students asked for yarns and fabric to make hats for themselves. I felt badly turning them down but told them that membership in the elite Jabule group required a diagnosis of TB or AIDS. This week was also successful in getting a few men to sew booties and small coin bags out of python printed fabric purchased for R5 a meter ($.75). The interest in the coin bags started when the patient that finally received his welfare grant needed a place to put his money and conned a female patient into sewing a drawstring bag that he proudly wore around his neck containing his riches. Some of the other men wanted bags do so they were willing to sew for themselves in spite of their own stigma about men sewing. Wire and pliers were also offered for crafts but no takers this week. A chaplain student attempted to determine some meaningful activity for the men and discovered that they would enjoy learning how to repair shoes and carve wood so maybe these activities can be developed.

The good news is that the patient that received his welfare grant last week (with the python drawstring bag for bounty) was discharged on Wednesday and left the hospital to live with his children in a nearby town. He was feeling higher than a kite on Tuesday night when he started to imagine his new life outside of the hospital after being a patient for 1 ½ years and wearing dull blue pajamas 24 hours a day. He smiled broadly as he announced that maybe he would go to JoBurg and do some strong work. There are success stories at Mountain High!

Got Your Goat! Fun in 2007

After our dream vacation touring the game parks and beaches of Kwa Zulu Natal, we journeyed back to our lives as Peace Corps Volunteers in a remote Christian hospital for TB and AIDS, high in the mountains of an indigenous forest. The Greyhound bus pulled into our town, we picked up groceries for the week and rode expectantly up the mountain road to home. In spite of the luxury living the last two weeks, we looked forward to sleeping in our own bed, cooking our own food, tending our garden and taking a shower after the long trip. Two of the four were not to be as a thin trickle of water slithered out of the faucet and then quit upon our arrival. The fan belt had broken on the water pump and a part had to be brought from town. “Let’s check the garden” I suggested to Brendon as I had some anxiety about leaving the beautiful mealy, cabbage and vegetable crops for two weeks. There was plenty of rain in the area during the interlude so all should be well.

The garden looked like it had been hit with a lawn mower! Most of the cabbage plants had been hacked from the inside out and the mealys were sawed off directly across the budding sheaves. What an ugly sight. In addition weeds had sprung up around the decimated cabbage plants. Immediately we suspected those large green and brown locusts that had been swarming around the hospital and declared our attempts at organic farming to be a dud. Bring on the herbicides, pesticides and any other cide that will sustain our feeble garden. The next day the hospital gardener reported that the culprit was a family of goats. The mother, wanting good nutrition for her children, moved in and helped herself to the budding cabbage heads and mealy leaves. The patients in the Jabule sewing group who lounge outside by the garden when then weather is nice stated that they tried to beat off the goats but they would not be deterred from eating the bounty. Usually goats are found in garbage heaps but they made their way into the hospital grounds. After our office duties the last two days, the second job was to try to salvage the remaining veges and strike terror into the hearts of any goat that came around. Truthfully, they are very cute and are quite a site with their unique coat patterns and kids trailing but I am glad I left my weapons with CA DHS.

Many of the patients were discharged over the Christmas holiday, but new patients are trickling in so my job is to encourage them to start a craft, sewing or needlework project and join the other women in conversation. They are reluctant to participate at first and ask what they will have to pay. There is no charge and they are given choices to select the project, style and colors that they prefer. This causes some delay and would be more efficient by assigning activities and materials but life in a TB hospital has very few opportunities for choice or creativity. The patients were thrilled with the beautiful yarns and materials that my son transported to SA from donors in California. The yarns here are very dull (and expensive) so the beautiful colors were a pleasure.

Friday brought success with the South Africa Welfare Department as I escorted a male patient to the bank and he was able to get his disability grant after a 1 ½ year wait and countless visits to the welfare office. We timidly went up to the teller and inquired as to whether the deposit had been made and Bingo, his grant was there for the taking. I had almost given up after an entire day was spent at the welfare office in Nov. and ended up with a quick escort out the door at 4 pm when they closed. The patient was jubilant and thrilled that at last he had a little cash in his pocket. I think of the patients being elderly as they move very slowly and seem aged. In fact most of them are under 40 and cannot fathom my age. (57 years) AIDS and TB have robbed them of their prime years, robustness and joy of living. Not to mention the dangers from the roads and accidents in this country. Everyone is in a hurry and the narrow two lane roads are full of obstacles-pedestrians, stalled cars, cows, goats and mist that obscure the dangers. A domestic employee of the hospital was killed in car accident this week when her car swerved to miss a stalled vehicle and she was thrown out. Life expectancy is very short (around 47 years) here in spite of the trappings of the first world. Many people are fatalistic about death and accidents-this may be a vestige of Apartheid where cause/effect and critical thinking were not encouraged. I am convinced that every human being is special and that there are no throwaway people. There are so many obstacles to prevention and safe practices-safe societies are a luxury to some degree. However, carnage from AIDS, TB, Malaria, wars and car accidents is decimating the parents and breadwinners of Africa. One more preventable death is a lament that underscores all the bodies that leave the hospital in cheap caskets. Life is not depressing in this place, only frustrating!

Picture Gallery

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Game Spotting for New Year's

Enjoy New Year's! Peace in 2007!

We hit the road this week and were so excited to see some of South Africa, touring our province KwaZuluNatal AKA Zululand. After a week of fabulous game parks, pristine beaches, great resorts, Indiana Jones scenery, and family fun we are convinced that the Peace Corps is one of life’s greatest adventure and a whole lot of fun. We started our journey by taking a Greyhound bus ride to Richard’s Bay, 2 hours north of Durban and renting a car. Although we then had to backtrack to pick up our son in Joburg, it was nearly impossible to rent a car closer to home and the connections to JoBurg would ave put us in a dangerous place at 10pm at night. (many decisions in South Africa are made on the basis of safety) Our initial thought was to rent a four wheel drive vehicle to tackle the rough roads in the game parks, but the costs proved prohibitive and so we ventured forth in a Hyundai Sonata sedan. Richard’s Bay is a new city that was formerly just a bait station for St. Lucia National Seashore and Game Preserve. Today it is an industrial city with monkeys in the nature preserves, subdivisions without walls or electrified fences and a shopping mall at the heart of the city. Very first world!! The hotel garden looked just like Hawaii with thatched roofs, hibiscus, palms, pool, and ferns.
Our first stop after JoBurg was four nights at a beach house on Zinkwazi Beach for family Christmas and beach R and R. Turkey and ham dinner with dressing and cranberry sauce plus monkeys, hawks, and weaverbirds in the backyard for entertainment. Durban is famous for mouthwatering curries where mild means hot hot hot so we did not hesitate to try any curry offered. Our older son arrived on Christmas day to sunny tropical weather; we were glad we didn’t have to apologize for the thunderstorms that have been constant the last two months.
On to Zululand game resorts hoping that they would not disappoint. In fact, we toured four game preserves in four days and found three of the Big Five (elephants, rhinos, cape buffalo) plus numerous giraffes, zebras, impalas, tesserbes, nyala, wart hog, bush pig, wildebeest at close range. The graceful impalas joyfully chased each other with an elegance found in pretty pubescent ballet dancers and contrasted with the awkward gawky wildebeest that hump along rather than prance. Baby giraffes were spotted munching on thornbark trees supervised by their vigilant mothers. A quick visit to Umfolozi Park on the way to Durban airport yielded a rhino within 20 feet of the road causing one to quickly roll up the windows and stare in amazement at this prehistoric creature. Game spotting in the preserves is great sport and a good excuse to enjoy the amazing scenery consisting of jagged mountains covered with bush, aloes, thornbark trees and colored flowers. All eight eyes survey the terrain as an excited voice calls “Over there, Zebras! Hey to your right impalas caucassing.” The entrance to our hotel was canopied with four tall trees containing thousands of nests built by weaverbirds singing a chorus as guests arrive. The nests, which hang like Christmas ornaments, is constructed by the male and then inspected by the female for suitability. Nests that do not meet the female’s standards are lopped to the ground and the male rejected.
Touring the game parks in a small sedan is not without its challenges as the dirt roads are very rough and the recent rains required careful fording methods over the numerous creeks and Arizona bridges. Brendon’s methods (which proved successful) were to take the fords very slowly and smoothly, methodically driving without a wince or hesitation. The hyandai groaned and creaked from the low clearance and brush under the carriage but got us through the parks. Next time maybe we should rent a car with higher clearance or a ride on the tall canopied jeeps from the lodges in the area.
South Africa is a fantastic country for touring with great tourist facilities and hundreds of game preserves with accommodations for every pocket book ranging from cabins with pit facilities to deluxe hotels to air-conditioned tents with hard wood floors and bathtubs in the bush. It is difficult to understand how this beautiful country has been so hard hit with AIDS; the disease seems far away on this dream vacation. It is a little jarring to be staying in a hotel room that is larger than our flat at the hospital but after 11 days of first world travel we are looking forward to getting back to the task we came to do; work is also very pleasurable. At times I wondered what the Peace Corps purpose was for the five month lock down that prohibited travel outside our town. Today I understand the advantage of integrating into a small place and building from that experience. South Africa looks like a treasure chest waiting to be opened. Even so the rest of Africa. Come and join the fun!

2006 Gifts

06It is Christmas Eve in South Africa and we are celebrating with our son in a beach house around an hour’s drive north of Durban. That’s right, I said drive because our travel restrictions were lifted, we rented a car and we have been set loose on South Africa for the Christmas holidays. Brendon learned to drive on the left very quickly but frequently uses the windshield wipers as turn signals. The normalcy of life in a house at the beach surrounded by amazing flora and fauna is enjoyed as pure pleasure but is also somewhat jarring. It is another reminder of life for the privileged in South Africa. Interestingly enough, we are not happier or more content in these semi-luxurious surroundings, only more comfortable. And as was pointed out in earlier blogs, comfort is often not conducive to growth. The night is very warm and balmy and the beach community uncannily resembles Kailua beach, where we started our journey so there is some sense of irony as well as familiarity. We have a few gifts for each other but they do not compare with the abundant gifts that came our way this year. Some of the more poignant blessings include:
1. This fantastic opportunity to serve the US Peace Corps in South Africa
2. Experiencing a new country and culture from the inside out instead of the outside in as tourists do
3. Healthier lifestyle which has come from casting off our cars and walking where we need to go or taking public transportation
4. Intimate connection with new neighbors and coworkers and an understanding of their lives and values
5. Empathy with ordinary people who stand by the side of the road waiting for a ride, quiet their children, try to find meaning in their lives and demonstrate dignity in their daily activities
6. Appreciation for the infrastructure and communication blessings of the US and the ease of doing business in the First World
7. Patience and flexibility and the peace of mind that comes from giving up control over every detail of one’s life.
8. Appreciation for the gift of health and good appetite and unrestricted access to food.
9. Understanding the value of critical thinking and the debilitating effects from a lack of education
10. Appreciation for ubuntu (Isizulu) or ohana (Hawaiian) - the concept of caring and love for each other in a community
11. The pleasure of having an interesting, creative job to do and the empowerment to get the job done
12. The great feeling of satisfaction that we are in the right place and that God is watching over us as we endeavor to make the most of this opportunity
13. The support of family, friends, community and church who are caring for our home, finances, and sons
Another gift is the opportunity to get to know the patients as people and engage them into participating in our Jabule (happiness) recreational therapy group. Many patients have been discharged since the group began but their beds are filled with new patients who do not have a head scarf (induku) and are well enough to try a sewing or craft project. After they finish hemming the head scarf they are given the choice of making booties, a small quilt, a cloth hand bag or a knitting/crochet project. The discharged patients sometimes leave the hospital wearing garments that they hand sewed in the Jabule group so I was taken aback when I spotted one of the best seamstresses wearing a camisole made out of a bed sheet brought from the US. (Course one hopes that none of the women will abscond -the hospital term for TB patients who sneak out before completion or their therapy- because she could sew an outfit and sneak past the guards. The first week we were at Mountain High a robe and gown were spotted lying on the road to the hospital) the patients get homesick because they are so far from home; the craft projects help to cure the “bored patient” syndrome and teach some skills. The patients in Jabule group sewed 50 red and white cloth bags which will be filled with sundry items and given to the patients on Christmas day as a Christmas gift from the hospital. Thanks to everyone who has provided materials and ideas this year.
The Jabule group (also known as the Ubuntu Workers) had a great time making evergreen wreathes as Christmas decorations using an idea from the mothers group at St. Peters by the Sea. First a wreath form was fashioned from heavy wire, evergreens from the trees around the hospital were inserted into the frame and a red satin bow was tied onto the wreath. This project is not part of the Zulu culture but it sure was a lot of fun as the women walked around the hospital grounds collecting pine and cypress branches singing Christmas carols. Bow formation brought a lot of laughs as the women fumbled with the red satin ribbon but finally achieved mastery of the decorative bows.
The Mountain High Newletter was born this week and deigned the “Mountain Views”. The director wanted to include pictures of the hospital employees in an effort to increase circulation so the Bond’s spent a big chunk of time this week taking pictures of the staff, editing photos and getting the newsletter to print. The hospital employees were excited about the draft edition with their pictures as few of the employees have cameras or any technology equipment. They are astounded when I tell them that they could be doing their stats and monthly reports on personal computers in a few years. They are leary but also anxious to learn keyboarding and basic skills so our next project looks like IT classes for the masses. What a way to start the New Year!

Merry Christmas Family and Friends

Blessings to all at Christmas 2006

We have been in South Africa for almost 5 months and are still trying to figure out the seasons, holidays and cycles of life. To the credit of South Africa, Christmas is downplayed with no jarring music in the stores, displays are muted, no guilt trips for parents worried about their children’s glee on the big day, and Christmas decorations delayed until Dec 10. Of course, we are separated from mainstream culture as we have no access to TV or general culture but the we are not bombarded with messages about black Friday when the red ink turns to black and retailers are smiling. South Africa does not have the Thanksgiving holiday as a gauge as to the proper start of Christmas decorations but benignly starts the season when Advent is fully underway.
We attended two Christmas parties this week which were similar in spirit although one was the annual Christmas celebration at the hospital with the Zulu staff and the other the Christmas lunch at the English speaking church in Vryheid. The Zulu hospital party was held outside with music, speeches and dancing from each attendee as they were called up to receive their Christmas gift. Both were well attended with all ages represented. Both had menus that centered on meat and plenty of it. The Zulu celebration feature a braai (barbeque with beef, chicken and wurst); the church featured lamb, pork, turkey, and beef. Meat is an obsession in this country and if you are planning a gathering you better have be friends with your local butcher which are as numerous as the funeral parlors. The beef is not marbled but in cut in thin slices, marinated and barbequed over an open fire. Both celebrations featured community and family with plenty of children running around and a good time for all. The Zulus had more interesting music, dance and speeches; the church members were better at flower designs and desert. Sadly the celebrations did not overlap. An attendee at the English speaking church party stated that the numerous ethnic, cultural and racial groups in South Africa do not know each other although they live side by side and respect each other.
Yesterday, Dec. 16 was the National Day of Reconciliation, but no one seemed to know how the holiday was celebrated in Vryheid. Brendon wryly suggested that it was the day when the whole country balanced their checkbooks. We went to town early yesterday, expecting to find the post office a zoo and shops crowded with Christmas shoppers, but were greeted with the quiet found only on New Years Day or Christmas in the US. This seemed unfathomable to us as American citizens- a holiday where the world shuts down 10 days before Christmas? What a true gift for the Christmas weary-a day off with forgiveness of all past injustices and reconciliation with those that have been grieved. This looks better than Thanksgiving. Of course it was not without its inconveniences as the restaurants and post office were closed. Our friends at the Christian hospital never mentioned the holiday or its significance; likewise the Christians at the church in town shrugged when asked about the holiday. It seems like a holiday without a recipient or participant. A check through our guidebooks did not reveal the history or tradition of this day. One more incident for Peace Corps volunteers of misunderstanding a cultural or historical event. A check on the internet shows this as a holiday with a complex checkered and bloody past but an idea to be considered by all civilized people. Thanksgiving comes easy, especially for those with a full refrigerator and gas in the tank. A check on the internet at my home church in Palos Verdes disclosed a sermon about Thanksgiving-the essence of Thankfulness is being grateful for faith, not for things. Forgiveness and reconciliation are difficult, especially with so many wrongs by all sides, extending over hundreds of years. The history of South Africa does not hold up many good guys; however it has been a democracy for 12 years with a proud citizenry that has led the world in peaceful revolutions.
Christmas will be very special for us as our two sons, Erik and Alex, are coming to South Africa to join us. Children are a blessing and a guarantee to keep one humble. Erik is in his second year at the Manhattan corporate law firm and is busy in the litigation department with insurance cases his specialty. Alex is a senior at UCLA, majoring in Philosophy, and is set to graduate in June. They are becoming our caretakers as we are the wandering children who are off on an adventure full of fun and service opportunities. Even after only 5 months we are starting to understand the WHY of this calling and further embrace the WOW! The days are interesting and challenging requiring every once of creativity and imagination that one can imagination. Plus they are full of surprises like the electrical storm that surrounds our flat at this moment on three sides with a light show that would amaze the most jaded. First an intensely hot humid day; then the wind picks up and the clouds darken. The power hesitates, then Darkness, Two bursts of lightning flickering through the venation blinds, crashes of thunder, restoration of power for a few brief seconds, repeat of darkness, cracks of lightning flashing on all sides like a Disney cartoon, thunder and the pouring rain on the tin roof that echoes through the cement walls of our home. The show repeats itself time and time again. On this night we are glad that we cannot travel after dark and are safe from the forces of mother nature who creates her own entertainment.
Merry Christmas to our family, friends and colleagues. Thank you for your support. We feel blessed to be here and hope to be a blessing to the people of South Africa. God bless you and your family in 2007!
With love, Susan and Brendon Bond

The Trip from Hail, Smugness and Life with Kermit

Last week I reported on that great feeling of satisfaction and peace that comes from living in a beautiful place with the work going well. Sometimes smugness is rewarded with a harsh dose of reality coupled with its cousin humility.

Our weekend started well enough, with Mr. Zulu waiting at the hospital gate at 6am cleaning the tires on his ancient and decrepit white van. The sliding door has a rope to keep it from sliding down the mountain when somewhat gives it too much push. The rear window sticker “Shemba is the way” identifies the taxi from all other taxis. Mr. Zulu never collects money until we are almost in town, just in case we break down and he has to find another driver. Mr. Zulu pointed us to the two front two seats which are preferred by many but carry the heavy responsibility of collecting the fares and giving change for the 16 other passengers. As we took off up the rock road, the rain started and Mr. Zulu turned on the wipers, which slowly swished a few turns and died. He then played with the switch but the wipers were done for the day and he drove the 80 km in pouring rain as I wiped the windshield to clean off the defrost. Vryheid has never been a more welcome site!

Our return from Vryheid today was not so easy. Due to lack of control over their lives and transport difficulties, the poor in this world must make innumerable daily decision and continually plan ahead in order to get where they need to go, to have enough money to achieve the transport desired, and to have a back up plan when the major mode of transportation fails. Today we did not plan well and did not have a back up plan when the desired transport failed.

After church this morning, we talked about skipping lunch in town and returning immediately to Vryheid by the paved road taxi, which lets us off 4 km from the hospital. Heavy rains were forecast for the entire weekend and the streets were flooded on Sat. night, forcing us to walk down the middle of the street for dinner and ford the flooded street. However at noontime there was a patch of blue in the skies and we looked forward to prawn curry and kingklip fish at one of the few restaurants open on Sunday afternoon. After a pleasant lunch in a deserted restaurant we walked back to the B and B to get our baggage and headed the one mile to the taxi stand. The sky suddenly turned very dark and the wind picked up. The Zulus on the street started running which we have never seen before as normally the Zulus have a slow dignified gait. As we neared the taxi stand, we noted taxis leaving the rank with only one passenger or only a driver, which is very unusual. A few hundred yards before reaching our taxi, the rain started. We started running for the taxi but ended up drenched by the time we got in and greeted the single passenger. The rain started coming down in sheets and within a few minutes hail the size of ping pong balls was bouncing off the van and covering the ground with white balls looking like snow. The noisy clanging balls banged against the windshield and a small crack appeared; then another and another crack creating a pattern of lace against the glass. The taxi driver outlined the cracked patterns with his hand and sighed. Brendon and I were relieved to be out of the storm, even though we were mad at ourselves for not exercising our better judgment and leaving earlier. After a short while the hail subsided and the rain retreated from its violent aggression. A young mother with baby in tow got in the taxi and asked if we had an umbrella. I did not but offered her my rain jacket which she put on her head and took off leaving the baby in the taxi. The 8 month old baby began looking around for its mother and fretting, so I started singing some of my old baby standbys, which probably caused more distress. Soon the mother returned with my jacket and a big smile. The taxi began filling with the usual stream of Sunday travelers off to visit relatives or return to work. Two more family groups got on with two more infants. At last the taxi drive charged up the engine and took off with a windshield looking like a giant spider web. Rain banged on the van as it charged through the flooded roads to home. Up the mountain in the pouring rain, 13 adults and 3 infants, bags, packages, packs and goodwill on the part of all. As the infants grew restless, the moms pulled out snacks including potato chips, hot dogs and French fries, which bother my mother instincts but were effective in quieting the babies.
We drove up the mountain and hit the famous mist coupled with rain and potholes in the road. Landmarks were hidden in the mist and rain so a new worry developed that we would miss our stop. The sign appeared out of nowhere and the driver of the van stopped. What a relief to be out of that van. We headed down the dirt road towards home and after a short walk were picked up by the director of the hospital in his Sunday best driving his Mercedes Benz. 500 yards from the hospital a tree had fallen across the road, blocking entrance. Brendon and I hopped out and hurried through the rain to our home where the wind was blowing like a hurricane but we were at last safe and dry. After I reach home I realized that our lunch had caused another casualty; a tooth had chipped, probably from the candy mints that come with the bill. Looks like another adventure dealing with South African dentists so stay tuned.
This week the Bond’s had a third roommate, Kermit the Toad. Tuesday night brought heavy rains and heavy visitors to the one room flat off the business office; lost keys, maintenance worker needing a flash light (torch) and the director at 930pm looking for a lost file on his laptop. As we finally tottled off to bed, Brendon noticed a toad sitting behind the door of our sleeping area which had probably entered our home during one of the evening visits. We were both too tired to deal with the toad so turned out the light. Late that night I was awakend by a snoring GRRRRIPPP, GRRRIPP, GRRIPP!! And on and on. Why didn’t we deal with the toad earlier? The next morning the toad had disappeared and we hoped he had found his way out. Late the second and third night Brendon woke up to the snoring sound of the toad and I found his excreta in the bathroom. By this time Brendon had found the toad in wildlife book and at least our new roommate had a name, Guttural Toad. Kermit was payback for writing blogs about the great sleep we are having during our Peace Corps tenure. Our colleagues provided toad removal guidance and sophomorically warned us not to make the snakes angry when we next try snake removal. We winced at the idea of another night with Kermit’s howling. Thursday night Brendon took matters into his own hand and as soon as the retinue began went searching for the darned toad and found him in the shower. Brendon grabbed a rag and swept up Kermit and threw him out into the stormy night.

Health and Happiness Report

It is time to write about our experiences with the diversity of this nation and how we get along in our daily lives. A few weeks ago the blog reported the poignant story of the young teenage girl whose mother was lost somewhere in a hospital in Durban and father was dead. A makoti (mature married woman) created rag dolls out of fabric scraps and the girl used them for comfort as she dragged them around the hospital grounds and slept with them at night. Last Sunday Brendon and I were asked to give the children’s sermon at our church. Each child was given a small piece of fabric and asked what could be done with a scrap of material. No one had an answer. The ubuntu quilt and the rag dolls were then unveiled as examples of what community sharing can achieve. Zenali’s story was told in all of its tenderness. Today a young mother greeted us as we arrived at church with a beautifully hand knit doll that her mother had made this week. The doll had a hat with flowers, a rainbow skirt, yellow pigtails, bloomers, eyes, nose and mouth. Her mother had been in the audience last week and was inspired to do something to help the patients. The white middle class in the English speaking church are striving to find ways to connect with the Zulus in the area and have adopted Mountain High Hospital as their outreach project. It is great to feel the church’s support for our remote mountain home. The country has been so damaged by apartheid that even today, ten years after liberation, racial groups do not have easy ways of connecting and establishing trust. Our experience has been one of overwhelming kindness, courtesy and kindness from everyone here. (Some are curious about Where we are from and Why we came). The African middle class is emerging for young people, especially if they are educated and urban. However, we are living in a very rural community where even the brightest, most motivated Zulus cannot access computer skills, higher education or decent jobs.
Today we taught Sunday School to the 18 children in Sunday School- all ages from 3 to 15 years old. Recycled stories and songs from our home church in Palos Verdes were a big hit with a grand finale of Duck Duck Goose for the little ones. Here the children know what ducks and geese look like and the myriads of varieties in this bird lover’s paradise.
This is a great time to report that we are staying healthy and happy. In spite of having serious jobs, we sleep like babies every night and do not experience the same kind of stress that we faced in our careers in the US. It may be that there is a realization that the locals are ultimately responsible for the functioning and success of the hospital and only they can make improvements that are sustainable. Our great health, happiness and deep rest at night may be due to the altitude and clean air. It may be the absence of commuting stress or traffic. It may be the novelty of the experience and the fun of growing food and enjoying the beauty of the rocks, hillsides, native forests, pastures and animals. Cooking dinner every night is an adventure as we prepare the ingredients at our dining table, transport it through the sleeping area to the hotplate in the kitchen corridor. (But how delicious everything tastes in this country of bounty and local farms. Today the grocery store in Vryheid had litchi, fresh cling peaches and mangos.) It may be the sense of purpose and belief that we are needed and wanted here. Whatever it is, The Bonds have taken the Cure and are enjoying country life. Each day has a life of its own and there is certainly no worrying about the troubles of tomorrow. The Peace Corps teaches Patience and Flexibility (known to us now as P and F) from the beginning of the cumbersome application process, through the medical clearances and the two month training. Ironically, although it would appear that we have little control over our daily life the opposite seems true as we are free to imagine great things for the hospital and enjoy the fantastic setting. Some would say that making things happen in Africa is almost impossible but we have found that we can make dreams a reality by plunging ahead and starting that programming, garden or craft project.
After struggling alone with our garden and then being supported with the tractor, many employees have jumped on board and are planting food that are staples and essential to their diet. They are wondering about the uses for weird crops that the Bond’s planted like basil, parsley, lettuce and radishes as they are not familiar. However we are looking forward to some great pesto and salads from the good earth of Mountain High. Come up and join us for dinner!

Worldwide Aids Awareness and Welfare Dept.Day

This week fly by so fast that as I am sit in my garden perch at the B and B in Vryheid and I cannot fathom how another week could disappear from view, use and sense of ownership. Friday Dec 1 was the Worldwide AIDS Awareness Day, which sounds like a depressing event, but turned out to be a day of celebration and community sprit. We are all one in this endeavor to Stop Aids and Keep the Promise! Truthfully, health event days in the United States have seemed to be contrived and lackluster. NOT HERE in South Africa! The opportunity to teach, learn and support one’s neighbor was embraced by the hospital, patients and community in an amazing outpouring of feeling and education that went on for three hours. The nurses and director of the hospital gave rousing speeches in Zulu about the unity and support for HIV positive – we are all together in this problem. The speeches were broken up by singing and dancing-the director of the hospital and the tailor being a hit with their jerk Zulu rhythms. Nurses who normally observe the highest levels of South African decorum were electrically charged as they admonished the participants to Stop the Silence and face the problem. The ten speakers did not use Power Point presentations, notes, overheads or teleprompters. They spoke from their heart and souls using their wit and imagination to entertain and cajole the audience (mainly comprised of patients) to change behavior and face the reality of AIDS. Although I could not understand most of the Zulu speeches, I felt a sense of unity and purpose which can best be described as collective behavior when one loses personal identity and joins in a group identity. A poignant moment occurred when a young girl just discharged came back to the hospital to read a poem she had written.
The last two weekends at Mountain High have been significant as six or seven local residents died and the hospital administration office was full of Isipithipithi(confusion) on Monday morning, straightening out the death records. Unfortunately, every day is Aids Awareness Day in South Africa.
Another day this week was spent assisting a disabled patient obtain his disability grant. The poor soul has been in the hospital since Sept. 2005 and has been attempting to obtain the disability grant promised by the government to seriously ill patients. His only success occurred in Sept 2006, where one hundred dollars showed up in his bank account, and $80 had to be donated to pay for his sister’s funeral. A driver took us to the welfare office in a nearby town around 10am and the entire day was spent waiting on cement benches under a metal awning for the social worker to examine the claim, doctor’s report and identity records. At 4pm she announced that the patient was due to receive money on Jan. 5. Success at last! However, a big worry now is that the bank account will be closed due to lack of activity and the high banking fees charged by South African banks. If the money is not physically withdrawn it is returned to the government. Thus, the unlikely sight of pajama clad patients appears in welfare offices and banks all over South Africa. The day was not a total loss for entertainment as a herd of baboons was spotted scurrying across the high plain to the woods on our drive out. The return was rewarded by sights of eland, springbok and bush pig in a game preserve next to the dirt road. The bush pigs have an exotic look to them with their long ears and exaggerated features. It sure will be fun to get out and see the sights of this magnificent country.
The Peace Corps Medical Officer paid us a visit this week to evaluate our site. She brought the three remaining boxes that we shipped in July including two boxes of M mail (dozens of books to keep us busy the next two years). We had almost given up on seeing our favorite cookbooks, travel guides, technical books for our jobs, and trash novels to keep us entertained. Christmas arrived early for the Bond’s so thank you to the Peace Corps for making the long trip. Our sons are arriving on Dec. 22 so this truly will be a special holiday. Merry Christmas to you all!