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!
Sunday, June 08, 2008
Sunday, June 01, 2008
Rhino Roadblock
This was a great week, starting on the high note of joyfulness in service. Our church in Vryheid held an AIDS memorial service Sunday, with a candle lighting to remember friends and loved ones who have died of this scourge. Barely able to hold back tears, Brendon and I lit candles, remembering the good-hearted driver who clowned around to make the patients laugh and the hard working kitchen helper. The minister’s sermon was even more compelling as she stated that we are all infected or affected by AIDS and that we are One in this disease as everyone could be HIV positive. Her message was refrain from judging others; rather offer love and kindness. Her final admonition was to “Joyfully serve HIV/AIDs patients, especially the poor.”
I took the message to heart and found that the work at Mountain High Hospital was a pleasure when the “Joyfully Serve” message is applied and that the Sewing, beading and bingo activities went well when my attitude improved. When I come to the patients with a smile and a song, they respond with smiles and warmth. When I am intent on just getting the job done without any supplies pilfered, they are withdrawn and anxious. Joyful service is contagious. This week the Zulu nurse and young male assistant broke into song and started the Zulu stomp dance which raised the spirits of the patients as we
celebrated another day of life. No one complained about the projects for the day or the inadequacy of the materials. The group was united in Ubuntu-the joy of humanness.
Tonight we are at Hluhluw
e Game Park, using up our last few days of leave before we return to Mountain High to complete our tasks, pack up and head to Pretoria for medical exams and a close of service conference. For the Bond’s the Game is the Thing in South Africa and today was no disappointment. Hluhluwe was the Zulu King Shaka’s hunting grounds and the park contains all of Big Five in a lovely mountainous setting in KwaZulu-Natal. The terrain is as interesting as the game with grassy savannahs, acacias and aloes dotting the hillsides, beautiful tree canopies, marula trees that are delicacies to the many elephants and comfortable, reasonable accommodations. At a view stop on the game drive we spotted four Cape buffalo, two elephants and two white rhino on the three sides of the hill, three of the big five with a turn of the head.
We stopped to look at a mother and baby rhino by the side of the road. The b
aby turned to look at our little white Nissan and thought she had found a playmate. The baby ambled towards our car. We backed up but the baby continued forward to meet this new friend. We backed up again and started to get a little anxious when the baby was only 5 feet in front of our car. By this time another car had stopped behind our car and we couldn’t back up any further. The horns on the baby looke
d huge not to mention her mother who started to glare at us ominously. Finally Mother took matters in hand and using her horn prodded to her child’s bottom to get off the road and not play with strangers.
A short time up the road from Mother and Baby Rhino we spotted 5 adult rhinos grazing on the side of the hill. (White rhinos graze, black rhinos browse). They headed up the hill to the road with the intent to cross to the other side which was a hilly embankment. The sight of 5 huge rhinos crossing a narrow one lane road was utterly amazing but the story does not end there. The first rhino to cross the road had evidently taken the wrong path and didn’t know where the trail was on the other side of the road. Soon all five rhinos were milling about, carrying on a rhino-conference, debating the finer points of navigation and berating the poor fellow who led them astray. Traffic began to pile up as cars parked and could not proceed through the rhino roadblock, and of course the rhino’s way was blocked by the cars – gridlock Hluhluwe-style. It is unclear who looked more stupid – the rhinos contemplating possible paths up the hill or the drivers contemplating being stranded by a rhino road block for the rest of the day. After about 10 minutes of indecision, one brave rhino turned again to the hillside and bravely created his own path up the incline. Soon his pals followed in suit and the show was over. Engines started and the drivers moved on to the next extraordinary sight.
I took the message to heart and found that the work at Mountain High Hospital was a pleasure when the “Joyfully Serve” message is applied and that the Sewing, beading and bingo activities went well when my attitude improved. When I come to the patients with a smile and a song, they respond with smiles and warmth. When I am intent on just getting the job done without any supplies pilfered, they are withdrawn and anxious. Joyful service is contagious. This week the Zulu nurse and young male assistant broke into song and started the Zulu stomp dance which raised the spirits of the patients as we
celebrated another day of life. No one complained about the projects for the day or the inadequacy of the materials. The group was united in Ubuntu-the joy of humanness.
Tonight we are at Hluhluw
e Game Park, using up our last few days of leave before we return to Mountain High to complete our tasks, pack up and head to Pretoria for medical exams and a close of service conference. For the Bond’s the Game is the Thing in South Africa and today was no disappointment. Hluhluwe was the Zulu King Shaka’s hunting grounds and the park contains all of Big Five in a lovely mountainous setting in KwaZulu-Natal. The terrain is as interesting as the game with grassy savannahs, acacias and aloes dotting the hillsides, beautiful tree canopies, marula trees that are delicacies to the many elephants and comfortable, reasonable accommodations. At a view stop on the game drive we spotted four Cape buffalo, two elephants and two white rhino on the three sides of the hill, three of the big five with a turn of the head.We stopped to look at a mother and baby rhino by the side of the road. The b
aby turned to look at our little white Nissan and thought she had found a playmate. The baby ambled towards our car. We backed up but the baby continued forward to meet this new friend. We backed up again and started to get a little anxious when the baby was only 5 feet in front of our car. By this time another car had stopped behind our car and we couldn’t back up any further. The horns on the baby looke
d huge not to mention her mother who started to glare at us ominously. Finally Mother took matters in hand and using her horn prodded to her child’s bottom to get off the road and not play with strangers.A short time up the road from Mother and Baby Rhino we spotted 5 adult rhinos grazing on the side of the hill. (White rhinos graze, black rhinos browse). They headed up the hill to the road with the intent to cross to the other side which was a hilly embankment. The sight of 5 huge rhinos crossing a narrow one lane road was utterly amazing but the story does not end there. The first rhino to cross the road had evidently taken the wrong path and didn’t know where the trail was on the other side of the road. Soon all five rhinos were milling about, carrying on a rhino-conference, debating the finer points of navigation and berating the poor fellow who led them astray. Traffic began to pile up as cars parked and could not proceed through the rhino roadblock, and of course the rhino’s way was blocked by the cars – gridlock Hluhluwe-style. It is unclear who looked more stupid – the rhinos contemplating possible paths up the hill or the drivers contemplating being stranded by a rhino road block for the rest of the day. After about 10 minutes of indecision, one brave rhino turned again to the hillside and bravely created his own path up the incline. Soon his pals followed in suit and the show was over. Engines started and the drivers moved on to the next extraordinary sight.
Saturday, May 24, 2008
PV PCVS Meet
The world is a small place – surprises happen in the least expected way. Last weekend a South African Peace Corps couple working with the education program arrived at Mountain High Hospital for a site visit. Peace Corps volunteers are encouraged to visit other sites to offer skills, support and see another version of the Peace Corps experience. The site visit was not surprising but the demographics of the couple blew us over.
John and Christine, US Peace Corps Volunteers in the Northwest province, live one km from our home in Palos Verdes, Calif. We had never met them before arriving in South Africa but surely in our 22 years of residing in that lovely beachside town, we ran into them on the bumpy road circling the town, or at the post office or farmer’s market. Further ironies abound including the fact that Christine’s parents lived on our street and she resided with her parents when we moved into our home in 1987. We must have passed each other up and down the hills of Palos Verdes, me pushing a baby stroller and her jogging to maintain her trim figure. They are roughly the same age as us and the same middle class occupations; she an elementary school teacher and he an aerospace engineer like Brendon. To many observers, the residents of Palos Verdes may appear to be materialistic workaholics with nary an altruistic thought. We have learned that success does not obviate a desire to make one’s life count for good and that material success can create opportunities for service and mission.
In our former working lives, we did not have time to stop and chat with the neighbors and learn about their lives. However, Peace Corps volunteers have ample time to get to know other volunteers and relish the opportunity to speak freely and be understood, especially to new friends who are from home. What a coincidence! Another irony is that both of us have homes in very close proximity to the national training center for our current NGO in South Africa. Truly a small world!
The trip to Richards Bay to meet John and Christine was an adventure in itself. The ride down the mountain was a first as the only available transport was in the poor man’s hearse-an enclosed pick-up truck operated by Zuntal Funerals. We were glad for any ride at all as there is only one bus a day that leaves Vryheid at 3pm and arrives in RB at 6pm. We squeezed into the cab, passing up the opportunity to ride with the silent passengers in the bed of the truck. The driver was animated in his description of his journeys all over South Africa to retrieve the dead-most from AIDS but many from gun fights and vehicle accidents. As we entered town, he pulled over and said we had to get out as he did not want the mortuary owners spotting him with living passengers. He had no change for our R100 (the trip should have cost R50) we were out R50 and 2 miles to the Greyhound bus stop. Plus we were next to a grassy field by a location (government housing) and we shouted “Target” with our backpacks and bags. We passed the location, junkyards, funeral parlors, body shops, big box hardware stores, town park, taxi rank, discount stores, grocery stores, clothing stores, shoe stores, fabric stores, department stores, banks, jewelry stores, post office, and finally arrived at the bench in front of the Spar Market that serves as the bus stop. The bus was 30 minutes late but was a big relief when we climbed on the double decker and headed for Richards Bay to meet John and Christine.
For those of you that have been following the headlines about South Africa, do not worry about PCVs at Mountain High Hospital. We are safe with only the sounds of the Ha De Da Ibis to keep us awake and the high schoolers as they cheer when school is out or they are on their way to study hall. The protesters are complaining that foreigners are taking their jobs and women. We tell people at the Hospital that we are not here to do their work; we are here to enable them to get ahead and improve their lives.
John and Christine, US Peace Corps Volunteers in the Northwest province, live one km from our home in Palos Verdes, Calif. We had never met them before arriving in South Africa but surely in our 22 years of residing in that lovely beachside town, we ran into them on the bumpy road circling the town, or at the post office or farmer’s market. Further ironies abound including the fact that Christine’s parents lived on our street and she resided with her parents when we moved into our home in 1987. We must have passed each other up and down the hills of Palos Verdes, me pushing a baby stroller and her jogging to maintain her trim figure. They are roughly the same age as us and the same middle class occupations; she an elementary school teacher and he an aerospace engineer like Brendon. To many observers, the residents of Palos Verdes may appear to be materialistic workaholics with nary an altruistic thought. We have learned that success does not obviate a desire to make one’s life count for good and that material success can create opportunities for service and mission.
In our former working lives, we did not have time to stop and chat with the neighbors and learn about their lives. However, Peace Corps volunteers have ample time to get to know other volunteers and relish the opportunity to speak freely and be understood, especially to new friends who are from home. What a coincidence! Another irony is that both of us have homes in very close proximity to the national training center for our current NGO in South Africa. Truly a small world!
The trip to Richards Bay to meet John and Christine was an adventure in itself. The ride down the mountain was a first as the only available transport was in the poor man’s hearse-an enclosed pick-up truck operated by Zuntal Funerals. We were glad for any ride at all as there is only one bus a day that leaves Vryheid at 3pm and arrives in RB at 6pm. We squeezed into the cab, passing up the opportunity to ride with the silent passengers in the bed of the truck. The driver was animated in his description of his journeys all over South Africa to retrieve the dead-most from AIDS but many from gun fights and vehicle accidents. As we entered town, he pulled over and said we had to get out as he did not want the mortuary owners spotting him with living passengers. He had no change for our R100 (the trip should have cost R50) we were out R50 and 2 miles to the Greyhound bus stop. Plus we were next to a grassy field by a location (government housing) and we shouted “Target” with our backpacks and bags. We passed the location, junkyards, funeral parlors, body shops, big box hardware stores, town park, taxi rank, discount stores, grocery stores, clothing stores, shoe stores, fabric stores, department stores, banks, jewelry stores, post office, and finally arrived at the bench in front of the Spar Market that serves as the bus stop. The bus was 30 minutes late but was a big relief when we climbed on the double decker and headed for Richards Bay to meet John and Christine.
For those of you that have been following the headlines about South Africa, do not worry about PCVs at Mountain High Hospital. We are safe with only the sounds of the Ha De Da Ibis to keep us awake and the high schoolers as they cheer when school is out or they are on their way to study hall. The protesters are complaining that foreigners are taking their jobs and women. We tell people at the Hospital that we are not here to do their work; we are here to enable them to get ahead and improve their lives.
Monday, May 12, 2008
Mother's Day 2008
It is Mother’s Day weekend and I am missing my two sons in America. They have had two birthdays since we left Los Angeles. As we have changed through the Peace Corps experience, they have changed in ways we do not know. They have found new support systems and are independent men. We missed two years of their lives; likewise we missed two years of American life and culture. Our youngest son Alex has graduated from UCLA and is on the job hunt. Our oldest son, Erik, has worked as a Manhattan attorney for 4 years and is shooting for a partnership in his law factory. So congratulations to Alex and Erik. Thanks for letting your parents realize their dream. We will be home soon and will take another stab at parenting. Sorry for the absence!
Peace Corps volunteers miss the daily contact with friends and family and the family events that weave society together. However, other volunteers and new adopted families fill the void left from loved ones at home. This weekend two volunteers visited Mountain High and the laughter began as soon as they stepped off the bus. We would never have met these two great pals had we not joined Peace Corps as one is a new college grad in his 20’s with an interest in music and biology and the other a fortyish film producer from Michigan. What would these two Americans have in common with a coot couple from Palos Verdes? Well, the conversation and fun started immediately after they arrived and continued the whole weekend as we hiked the steep treks at Mountain High and ventured through the nearby indigenous forest with cool shady canopies, waterfalls, delicate white orchids and fern grottos. They both love hiking, nature, adventure and discovery. They squealed with delight at the 5” brown locust with chartreuse beading around his neck, just like four-year-olds. They were game for climbing rocks, trees and cadging avocados from the huge tree on the hospital site. As good Peace Corps volunteers, not a complaint was uttered about sleeping on the hard floor or the lack of water.
Peace Corps teaches more than patience and flexibility-one learns to have fun and to enjoy the company of unlikely companions. These two volunteers have shared our experience and have the same issues about the complexity of life in South Africa (we love it except when we hate it), trouble with NGOs and the tragedy of AIDS. Together we have all seen unspeakable suffering and so many needless deaths. They are also interested in helping the world and saving the environment. They speak freely, without cynicism, about income generation for the poor and renewable resources. Peace Corps volunteers may not “save the world” but they do have success in passing on first world skills and showing the positive determination of Americans to their colleagues and friends.
Our Peace Corps guests entertained the patients with origami, yoga, and a delightful fable in Zulu about a couple who was granted three wishes as a reward for freeing a monkey’s tail. The moral of the fable was to be careful what you wish for. As we return to the United States we are full of wishes and hopes for the future. How will we fit back into our home community? What will our lives look like a year from now? One thing that we have learned; one’s happiness and joy of living are not based on external conveniences; the absence of convenience may cause annoyance and frustration but not unhappiness. Whereas, access to conveniences does not bring happiness or satisfaction. American lives are full of stress and difficulty in spite of the affluence and amenities. Our lives here have been very simple, but intensely rewarding. We have found a purpose for every day-can the same be said for our comfortable lives in the US?
Peace Corps volunteers miss the daily contact with friends and family and the family events that weave society together. However, other volunteers and new adopted families fill the void left from loved ones at home. This weekend two volunteers visited Mountain High and the laughter began as soon as they stepped off the bus. We would never have met these two great pals had we not joined Peace Corps as one is a new college grad in his 20’s with an interest in music and biology and the other a fortyish film producer from Michigan. What would these two Americans have in common with a coot couple from Palos Verdes? Well, the conversation and fun started immediately after they arrived and continued the whole weekend as we hiked the steep treks at Mountain High and ventured through the nearby indigenous forest with cool shady canopies, waterfalls, delicate white orchids and fern grottos. They both love hiking, nature, adventure and discovery. They squealed with delight at the 5” brown locust with chartreuse beading around his neck, just like four-year-olds. They were game for climbing rocks, trees and cadging avocados from the huge tree on the hospital site. As good Peace Corps volunteers, not a complaint was uttered about sleeping on the hard floor or the lack of water.
Peace Corps teaches more than patience and flexibility-one learns to have fun and to enjoy the company of unlikely companions. These two volunteers have shared our experience and have the same issues about the complexity of life in South Africa (we love it except when we hate it), trouble with NGOs and the tragedy of AIDS. Together we have all seen unspeakable suffering and so many needless deaths. They are also interested in helping the world and saving the environment. They speak freely, without cynicism, about income generation for the poor and renewable resources. Peace Corps volunteers may not “save the world” but they do have success in passing on first world skills and showing the positive determination of Americans to their colleagues and friends.
Our Peace Corps guests entertained the patients with origami, yoga, and a delightful fable in Zulu about a couple who was granted three wishes as a reward for freeing a monkey’s tail. The moral of the fable was to be careful what you wish for. As we return to the United States we are full of wishes and hopes for the future. How will we fit back into our home community? What will our lives look like a year from now? One thing that we have learned; one’s happiness and joy of living are not based on external conveniences; the absence of convenience may cause annoyance and frustration but not unhappiness. Whereas, access to conveniences does not bring happiness or satisfaction. American lives are full of stress and difficulty in spite of the affluence and amenities. Our lives here have been very simple, but intensely rewarding. We have found a purpose for every day-can the same be said for our comfortable lives in the US?
Sunday, May 04, 2008
No Money No Honey
This weekend South Africa celebrated May 1, Workers Day, and May 2, Human Rights Day, gifting the workers with a four day weekend. South Africa takes public holidays seriously guaranteeing them under “Conditions of Employment” labor law. Workers Day was used by unions to “toy toy’ (protest) rising food and transportation costs, which disproportionately affect the poor (and Peace Corps volunteers on a fixed income). Many staple food items; cooking oil, corn, cheese, milk, eggs, have almost doubled in price. Taxi fares have risen at least 20% while wages remain constant.
As Peace Corps volunteers we hear first hand the woes of the rural poor. Besides the immediate deprivations from increases in food, fuel and transport, their isolation increases as trips to town are reduced. Access to employment, advanced education and economic opportunities is also reduced as transport costs increase. South Africa is two countries with the rural poor often stuck in subsistence activities; cultural beliefs conflict with first world knowledge. Ancestors are revered - does ancestor worship continue? AIDS and HIV are understood but sangomas (traditional healers) are often consulted before doctors. Sangomas throw their bones (tiny rocks and shells) to diagnose a customer's ailments. AIDS (also called Zulu Disease) may be attributed to a neighbor’s hex.
The Gauteng province (Johannesburg and Pretoria) produce 80% of the nation’s GDP and has a service/manufacturing economy to match the first world. However, the rest of the nation struggles with massive unemployment and a work ethic that may not compete with other developing nations. Wages are depressed compared to prices and workers are laden with high interest debt. Inflation has risen above 10% but even with lengthy strikes last summer, wages increased only 7.5% in the public sector.
The Bond’s used the weekend to plan for their return to the United States. We considered the steps needed to exit South Africa and the processes required to return to our life in Palos Verdes. Consumer goods loom large as an alluring, yet scary proposition after two years without a car, washing machine, television or CD player. Returned Peace Corps volunteers are reportedly anti consumerism or the opposite-they readily embrace the consumerism of the first world. Have we changed? Do we need or want “all that stuff” that becomes a burden as one ages. From our experience with loved ones, we all end up in a small room, in a small bed with one change of clothes.
What household items did we throw away or give away that we will need? More likely in the 44 boxes at Bekins storage, what additional pieces of crockery, potato mashers or bath towels should be been given away to simplify life, help someone else or reduce the Bekins monthly bill. What about our king size platform bed that we couldn’t find a home for and had to lay on the street for the trash collectors. Last night I ogled over new beds on the Costco and Macy’s web site and was a little embarrassed to be sucked into American style consumerism. Our last night at home in America was spent on the floor-we slept like tired old dogs! Peace corps has taught resilience as well as patience and flexibility. Hope it holds in the US.
The food price increase and subprime market have created uncertain conditions at home in America, especially for the working poor. We have been gone for two years, leaving in 2006 when housing prices were still shooting through the roof, wages were increasing and consumers were spending all of their paychecks and more. We entered the Peace Corps hoping to live on the small monthly stipend (approx $230) that is provided for food, communication (cell phone, internet) transport, recreation, travel, and clothing. With the upturn in food prices, the stipend has barely covered our food costs. Taxi cost each week to make the 80km trip to town to purchase food total $16 for the two of us. Local residents purchase staple groceries in town only once a month as their salaries are only a little more than the Peace Corps stipend. Thus their diets are deficient in nutrients, although no one is starving as in other parts of Africa.
So, what does it cost to join the Peace Corps? Contrary to our expectations, travel, communication and transportation cannot be done on the Peace Corps budget. Other hidden costs of the experience are financial and business management costs at home, storage of furniture and belongings for two years. Of course, the major cost has been the loss of income for two years, but that is a given. We left the US with credit card debt and will return with the same. However it sure has been a fun ride!
As Peace Corps volunteers we hear first hand the woes of the rural poor. Besides the immediate deprivations from increases in food, fuel and transport, their isolation increases as trips to town are reduced. Access to employment, advanced education and economic opportunities is also reduced as transport costs increase. South Africa is two countries with the rural poor often stuck in subsistence activities; cultural beliefs conflict with first world knowledge. Ancestors are revered - does ancestor worship continue? AIDS and HIV are understood but sangomas (traditional healers) are often consulted before doctors. Sangomas throw their bones (tiny rocks and shells) to diagnose a customer's ailments. AIDS (also called Zulu Disease) may be attributed to a neighbor’s hex.
The Gauteng province (Johannesburg and Pretoria) produce 80% of the nation’s GDP and has a service/manufacturing economy to match the first world. However, the rest of the nation struggles with massive unemployment and a work ethic that may not compete with other developing nations. Wages are depressed compared to prices and workers are laden with high interest debt. Inflation has risen above 10% but even with lengthy strikes last summer, wages increased only 7.5% in the public sector.
The Bond’s used the weekend to plan for their return to the United States. We considered the steps needed to exit South Africa and the processes required to return to our life in Palos Verdes. Consumer goods loom large as an alluring, yet scary proposition after two years without a car, washing machine, television or CD player. Returned Peace Corps volunteers are reportedly anti consumerism or the opposite-they readily embrace the consumerism of the first world. Have we changed? Do we need or want “all that stuff” that becomes a burden as one ages. From our experience with loved ones, we all end up in a small room, in a small bed with one change of clothes.
What household items did we throw away or give away that we will need? More likely in the 44 boxes at Bekins storage, what additional pieces of crockery, potato mashers or bath towels should be been given away to simplify life, help someone else or reduce the Bekins monthly bill. What about our king size platform bed that we couldn’t find a home for and had to lay on the street for the trash collectors. Last night I ogled over new beds on the Costco and Macy’s web site and was a little embarrassed to be sucked into American style consumerism. Our last night at home in America was spent on the floor-we slept like tired old dogs! Peace corps has taught resilience as well as patience and flexibility. Hope it holds in the US.
The food price increase and subprime market have created uncertain conditions at home in America, especially for the working poor. We have been gone for two years, leaving in 2006 when housing prices were still shooting through the roof, wages were increasing and consumers were spending all of their paychecks and more. We entered the Peace Corps hoping to live on the small monthly stipend (approx $230) that is provided for food, communication (cell phone, internet) transport, recreation, travel, and clothing. With the upturn in food prices, the stipend has barely covered our food costs. Taxi cost each week to make the 80km trip to town to purchase food total $16 for the two of us. Local residents purchase staple groceries in town only once a month as their salaries are only a little more than the Peace Corps stipend. Thus their diets are deficient in nutrients, although no one is starving as in other parts of Africa.
So, what does it cost to join the Peace Corps? Contrary to our expectations, travel, communication and transportation cannot be done on the Peace Corps budget. Other hidden costs of the experience are financial and business management costs at home, storage of furniture and belongings for two years. Of course, the major cost has been the loss of income for two years, but that is a given. We left the US with credit card debt and will return with the same. However it sure has been a fun ride!
Wednesday, April 30, 2008
Tuesday, April 29, 2008
Walking Safari
South Africa has many attractions, but none can compete with the Wildlife and Game which can be found in many areas of the country. This weekend we tried a new adventure-The Walking Safari at a game preserve near Mountain High Hospital in Kwa Zulu Natal. Most game preserves require that the visitor stay in their car at all times. Viewing game from the car or open air jeep is fun but the bush calls for trekking to be done on foot. By staying in the car, one can get closer to the Big Five (lion, leopard, elephant, rhino and cape buffalo) and better photos but nothing can compare to tracking a rhinos feces or listening for the crack of timber as the elephant breaks apart trees for lunch.
The Bush Camp experience starts with meeting the ranger at the gate of the huge preserve and heading off to the camp deep in the sand forest. After a 25 minute drive in the open air jeep, the driver abruptly stops in the dirt road and announces that we have arrived. No trace of building or man’s intrusions into the bush is apparent until we walk a small path and arrive at the HQ tent for the camp. Couches and bookshelves line the tent and cold glasses of juice greet the visitor. The four tents accommodating 8 guests are located out in the bush with no views of any other tent, just the forest, scrub and bushes of this ecosystem.
Walking Safari Bush Camp day starts at 515am with hot water lugged to each tent and coffee awaiting. By 6am the eight of us (four couples, youngish and oldish) head out on the trail with our two armed guides. Cormorants, kingfishers, darters, and eagles are spotted on the trail. Shy nyala dart into the bush and we pass. Our guides show us how to read animal tracks- the sausage like hooded cobra sand formation, the long streams from the quills of the porcupine. The crack of timber and rustling of tall tree canopies indicates an elephant is feeding and we creep along, single file hoping to get a glimpse of the huge creature. The guide strategizes a plan so that we can surround the animal without getting too close and being detected. As soon as one is spotted by the elephants they will give a warning charge and stomp away. The guide slung his sock filled with ash from the morning campfire to determine the direction of the wind and proceeded up wind. He cautiously beckoned us to crouch and run two by two to track the elephant. At last we found a sheltered camouflaged hiding spot and watched the huge bull tramp through the forest to a small pan (watering hold) where he garously sucked the muddy water up into his trunk and joyously sprayed his warm body with the cool mud. He repeated his pleasurable bath several times and then marched off into the trees.
After one hikes for 4 hours viewing several different ecosystems, the group returns to camp for brunch and showers rigged up with hand filled fabric tanks of waters in the great outdoors. Afternoon is spent resting in the comfortable king size beds with high tea at 330pm. The late afternoon starts off with a game drive and short hike. As the jeep journeyed off the dirt road into the grassland, a mother cheetah was spotted with four cubs (one orphan included) sleeping beneath and acacia tree. The mother was not disturbed as we took pictures and marveled at the amazing sight. Cheetahs have been reintroduced into the preserve and are doing well. They look similar to Leopards but have solid spots, rather than the rosettes of leopards. They are built for speed.
The night is pitch black as we return to camp for dinner. The guides point out the blazing stars in the Southern Constellation: Orion, the Southern Cross, the Dog and the gorgeous Milky Way. We wind through the dark night and spot three honey badgers waddling down the road. The most dramatic moment of this night of drama was coming upon the hundreds of torches and the fire that light up the camp at night. Dinner of salmon and ostrich cooked on the open fire awaited 8 hungry hikers. Tall tales of our bravery defying Mother Nature were the entertainment by the fire as we enjoyed a most thrilling and exciting weekend.
The Bush Camp experience starts with meeting the ranger at the gate of the huge preserve and heading off to the camp deep in the sand forest. After a 25 minute drive in the open air jeep, the driver abruptly stops in the dirt road and announces that we have arrived. No trace of building or man’s intrusions into the bush is apparent until we walk a small path and arrive at the HQ tent for the camp. Couches and bookshelves line the tent and cold glasses of juice greet the visitor. The four tents accommodating 8 guests are located out in the bush with no views of any other tent, just the forest, scrub and bushes of this ecosystem.
Walking Safari Bush Camp day starts at 515am with hot water lugged to each tent and coffee awaiting. By 6am the eight of us (four couples, youngish and oldish) head out on the trail with our two armed guides. Cormorants, kingfishers, darters, and eagles are spotted on the trail. Shy nyala dart into the bush and we pass. Our guides show us how to read animal tracks- the sausage like hooded cobra sand formation, the long streams from the quills of the porcupine. The crack of timber and rustling of tall tree canopies indicates an elephant is feeding and we creep along, single file hoping to get a glimpse of the huge creature. The guide strategizes a plan so that we can surround the animal without getting too close and being detected. As soon as one is spotted by the elephants they will give a warning charge and stomp away. The guide slung his sock filled with ash from the morning campfire to determine the direction of the wind and proceeded up wind. He cautiously beckoned us to crouch and run two by two to track the elephant. At last we found a sheltered camouflaged hiding spot and watched the huge bull tramp through the forest to a small pan (watering hold) where he garously sucked the muddy water up into his trunk and joyously sprayed his warm body with the cool mud. He repeated his pleasurable bath several times and then marched off into the trees.
After one hikes for 4 hours viewing several different ecosystems, the group returns to camp for brunch and showers rigged up with hand filled fabric tanks of waters in the great outdoors. Afternoon is spent resting in the comfortable king size beds with high tea at 330pm. The late afternoon starts off with a game drive and short hike. As the jeep journeyed off the dirt road into the grassland, a mother cheetah was spotted with four cubs (one orphan included) sleeping beneath and acacia tree. The mother was not disturbed as we took pictures and marveled at the amazing sight. Cheetahs have been reintroduced into the preserve and are doing well. They look similar to Leopards but have solid spots, rather than the rosettes of leopards. They are built for speed.
The night is pitch black as we return to camp for dinner. The guides point out the blazing stars in the Southern Constellation: Orion, the Southern Cross, the Dog and the gorgeous Milky Way. We wind through the dark night and spot three honey badgers waddling down the road. The most dramatic moment of this night of drama was coming upon the hundreds of torches and the fire that light up the camp at night. Dinner of salmon and ostrich cooked on the open fire awaited 8 hungry hikers. Tall tales of our bravery defying Mother Nature were the entertainment by the fire as we enjoyed a most thrilling and exciting weekend.
Thursday, April 24, 2008
Life on the Nile
Blog 24 April 08
The Bond’s have been traveling to the far north of Africa to use up the last week of leave allotted by the Peace Corps – a trip to Egypt and a cruise down the Nile. Ironically this “Luxury” vacation was affordable by US standards and not the first choice of two “short timer” volunteers. Initially the plan was to see Victoria Falls, Chobe and Botswana but the prices proved prohibitive. Likewise a trip to Tanzania to see the game migration on the rift. (The cheaper option on the Kenya side is not currently a safe choice).
So, looking at the local newspapers and seeing things as a South African tourist, Egypt popped out as a great holiday and a lifetime dream. As Peace Corps we think in the present and reserved a package deal at the last minute. But what a deal! Air fare, two nights in Cairo, transfers from Cairo to Luxor, cruise on a barge on the Nile from Luxor to Aswan, the reverse and all the sights and tours in between! The cruise was most pleasurable with lovely views of the Nile riverbanks for 200 km and short guided stops to see the temples en route. The weather was Hot Hot but think of Las Vegas- very dry heat. The Valley of the Kings, Esna Lock, Edfu Temple, Aswan Dam, and Philae Temple were simple side trips from the boat which also had many pleasures including Whirling Dervishes and On board guides. Egypt is the opposite end of South Africa but a big allure in that there is little crime and cultural sights too numerous to mention. Fellucas with local fisherman, vendors throwing up Galabria (Eqyptian cotton gowns), green islands with stock grazing on the rich land, locals harvesting wheat with ancient sickles, horsedrawn carts with passengers, and lovely date palms and sand dunes were all part of the everchanging scenery.
Tonight we are back in our home in South Africa where Fall has arrived and frost was on the ground this morning. The Drakensburg Mountains are covered in a solid Seven Minute Frosting of Snow and the shadows are long, even with the sun blazing during the day. Last night as we arrived back at our home, we were thrilled to see the brilliant stars in the sky without cloud cover or any mist that the summer brings. The stars still seem foreign to us but the Milky Way reminds us of home. No water, hot water to greet us and the Load Shedding is back today but the patients were all smiles this morning and a pleasure to assist as we tried beading with red and silver beads and renewed strength for the weeks ahead.
The Bond’s have been traveling to the far north of Africa to use up the last week of leave allotted by the Peace Corps – a trip to Egypt and a cruise down the Nile. Ironically this “Luxury” vacation was affordable by US standards and not the first choice of two “short timer” volunteers. Initially the plan was to see Victoria Falls, Chobe and Botswana but the prices proved prohibitive. Likewise a trip to Tanzania to see the game migration on the rift. (The cheaper option on the Kenya side is not currently a safe choice).
So, looking at the local newspapers and seeing things as a South African tourist, Egypt popped out as a great holiday and a lifetime dream. As Peace Corps we think in the present and reserved a package deal at the last minute. But what a deal! Air fare, two nights in Cairo, transfers from Cairo to Luxor, cruise on a barge on the Nile from Luxor to Aswan, the reverse and all the sights and tours in between! The cruise was most pleasurable with lovely views of the Nile riverbanks for 200 km and short guided stops to see the temples en route. The weather was Hot Hot but think of Las Vegas- very dry heat. The Valley of the Kings, Esna Lock, Edfu Temple, Aswan Dam, and Philae Temple were simple side trips from the boat which also had many pleasures including Whirling Dervishes and On board guides. Egypt is the opposite end of South Africa but a big allure in that there is little crime and cultural sights too numerous to mention. Fellucas with local fisherman, vendors throwing up Galabria (Eqyptian cotton gowns), green islands with stock grazing on the rich land, locals harvesting wheat with ancient sickles, horsedrawn carts with passengers, and lovely date palms and sand dunes were all part of the everchanging scenery.
Tonight we are back in our home in South Africa where Fall has arrived and frost was on the ground this morning. The Drakensburg Mountains are covered in a solid Seven Minute Frosting of Snow and the shadows are long, even with the sun blazing during the day. Last night as we arrived back at our home, we were thrilled to see the brilliant stars in the sky without cloud cover or any mist that the summer brings. The stars still seem foreign to us but the Milky Way reminds us of home. No water, hot water to greet us and the Load Shedding is back today but the patients were all smiles this morning and a pleasure to assist as we tried beading with red and silver beads and renewed strength for the weeks ahead.
Sunday, April 13, 2008
Stone Hearts
We have spent the last two weeks high in the mountains of Kwa Zulu Natal at our home in an AIDS hospital, doing work that is needed. Brendon was named the Operations Manager his first day on the job in Sept. 2006. I was posted in the Business office to upgrade administrative procedures and subsequently started the Occupational Therapy Program (Jabule “Happy” Time) for the patients. The work has expanded into new avenues with computer training for staff taking up many hours.
The grant money from the US for purchasing sewing and beading materials has been spent so finding interesting and fun activities for patient’s recreation and handwork has become more challenging. In addition we have been feeling spent, losing enthusiasm and looking forward to going home. An incident a few weeks ago with the disappearance of some money in the office left my heart cold and my bearing brittle toward my coworkers. Is this what I want the hospital staff to remember about me? Theft and crime are very common occurrences here and nothing (no thing) is irreplaceable. Thus “Get over it” has to happen and one needs to be more careful about one’s belongings. My initial reaction, however, was “how do they have the nerve to take from someone who has left their comfortable life in America to help them?” This feeling was arrogance/ pride on my part
and not in the spirit of the Peace Corps or service. In addition, I have become more watchful and careful about distributing the beads and fabric, allocating the daily projects in a very miserly manner to make the materials last. I have to say no to requests for extra beads, and sometimes the “NO” is not in the most courteous manner. A nurse’s aide came into the sewing group this week and asked if I was “Cross” and I cringed that this might be the expectation as materials are depleted and my heart is growing harder.
Today in church the prayer asked God for a “Heart of Flesh” instead of a “Heart of Stone” and a “New Spirit”. So, this is my desire that as we finish our work at Mountain High - we will have softness and kindness instead of coldness and calculation; humility instead of pride. As I cut out the 500th skirt of this 2 year experience, pour out the beads for the Zulu border stitch, set up prizes for the bingo tournament, and attempt to demonstrate American cooking on a hot plate in the Chapel with limited ingredients, I will relish this unique opportunity and convey some of the goodness of the people of America. The Peace Corps tour of duty lasts 2 years for that reason; citizens of developing nations will come to understand America and Americans. Americans are people, warts and all. They sometimes care about the poor, sick, and forgotten peoples of the world but they are imperfect human beings.
We were invited to the home of the director of an NGO last night where we heard about the suffering of all the groups that call South Africa home and the horrendous violent crime that citizens endure on a regular basis. Her concern was that Americans are quick to make snap judgments without understanding the courage it takes to live in this country on a daily basis. Again, our need is for soft hearts and new spirits!
The grant money from the US for purchasing sewing and beading materials has been spent so finding interesting and fun activities for patient’s recreation and handwork has become more challenging. In addition we have been feeling spent, losing enthusiasm and looking forward to going home. An incident a few weeks ago with the disappearance of some money in the office left my heart cold and my bearing brittle toward my coworkers. Is this what I want the hospital staff to remember about me? Theft and crime are very common occurrences here and nothing (no thing) is irreplaceable. Thus “Get over it” has to happen and one needs to be more careful about one’s belongings. My initial reaction, however, was “how do they have the nerve to take from someone who has left their comfortable life in America to help them?” This feeling was arrogance/ pride on my part
and not in the spirit of the Peace Corps or service. In addition, I have become more watchful and careful about distributing the beads and fabric, allocating the daily projects in a very miserly manner to make the materials last. I have to say no to requests for extra beads, and sometimes the “NO” is not in the most courteous manner. A nurse’s aide came into the sewing group this week and asked if I was “Cross” and I cringed that this might be the expectation as materials are depleted and my heart is growing harder.
Today in church the prayer asked God for a “Heart of Flesh” instead of a “Heart of Stone” and a “New Spirit”. So, this is my desire that as we finish our work at Mountain High - we will have softness and kindness instead of coldness and calculation; humility instead of pride. As I cut out the 500th skirt of this 2 year experience, pour out the beads for the Zulu border stitch, set up prizes for the bingo tournament, and attempt to demonstrate American cooking on a hot plate in the Chapel with limited ingredients, I will relish this unique opportunity and convey some of the goodness of the people of America. The Peace Corps tour of duty lasts 2 years for that reason; citizens of developing nations will come to understand America and Americans. Americans are people, warts and all. They sometimes care about the poor, sick, and forgotten peoples of the world but they are imperfect human beings.
We were invited to the home of the director of an NGO last night where we heard about the suffering of all the groups that call South Africa home and the horrendous violent crime that citizens endure on a regular basis. Her concern was that Americans are quick to make snap judgments without understanding the courage it takes to live in this country on a daily basis. Again, our need is for soft hearts and new spirits!
Sunday, April 06, 2008
South African Sharp Sharp
“Howzit, Love” (How are you, friend)? “Just now” (in the immediate future) your “mate” (friend) in South Africa will be going “overseas” (abroad, any country out of SA) after this “nice” (pleasant, delicious, good, expensive, or any other positive expletive) time earning no “bucks” (rand) as a Peace Corps Volunteer in Zululand. We lived in a very "homely" (homey, comfortable) flat (small studio apt). Please “Now, Now” (Immediately) “Borrow me a Pen” (Loan me a Pen) so I can write about this “Lekker” (sweet, wonderful, fun, enjoyable) experience. If I make a mistake I will need a “Rubber” (eraser) to correct the error. “Is It” (Really) are the Bond’s returning to the US? “Shame” (Too bad, what a pity) as they are finally learning to speak English in South Africa. They sure enjoyed the “lekker” “Amasweetie” (candy), “Tea Time” (coffee breaks) and “Biltong” (jerky). “Transport”(transportation), “Robots” (traffic lights) and “Kumbis” (public vans) were more of a challenge with constant increases in the price of “petrol” (gas) but one can always “SMS” (instant message) on a cell phone to “Fetch Me” (please pick me up). If you lived here, one should purchase a “Bakke” (small pick up truck) as they can handle the rough roads better than passenger “motor vehicles” (cars). “Provisions” (food) were hard to come by but every community has a “Tuck Shop” (small convenience store) where Simba chips can be found. The “Festive Season” (Christmas holidays) was very enjoyable but the time for a “Swimming Costume” (bathing suit or trunks) and “tekkies” (running shoes) instead of warm holiday attire and scarves. Anytime, anywhere under any circumstances a “Braai” (barbeque) with “mutton” (lamb) “wors” (sausage) is always welcome and in fact “Braai Day” is a national holiday! When all is well then “Chop Chop”. (Things are “Right”.) If circumstances warrant outspoken complaint, you “Must” (should, might) “Toy Toy” (protest).
So after almost two years the Bond’s have learned that they have a strong, sometime unintelligible American Accent and that they do not know English. Of course it would be better if they learned Zulu in order to serve the AIDS patients and staff at Mountain High Hospital. Hats off to all South Africans who can speak at least three languages and sometimes four or five!
So after almost two years the Bond’s have learned that they have a strong, sometime unintelligible American Accent and that they do not know English. Of course it would be better if they learned Zulu in order to serve the AIDS patients and staff at Mountain High Hospital. Hats off to all South Africans who can speak at least three languages and sometimes four or five!
Wednesday, April 02, 2008
Creature Comforts
Our return to Mountain High Hospital after Easter break brought home two important lessons that all Peace Corps Volunteers must learn; Never get in the shower without looking in all four corners. Lesson two; Always inspect the contents of your toilet before plopping yourself down and letting it happen.
We returned to our South African home at Mountain High Hospital after touring the back roads and small towns of the Cape. I missed the patients, our comfortable cozy flat and the beauty of this mountain site. However, after a week of living with power, water (even hot water) and a rental car it is hard to go back to the challenges of life in rural Africa. Interestingly enough, the discomforts vary from day to day and hour to hour so one is always surprised. We opened the door to our flat and found water and electricity; so far so good. The food in the refrigerator had not rotted and the hot water poured out of the tap like a geyser. I lifted up the toilet lid and shrieked at the first surprise- Mr. Toad was swimming in the toilet bowl with arms flaying and legs hyper extended. I quickly shoved the lid down and called for my US Army Artillery trained husband to take action. His fighting words were “just flush”. The pour soul was flushed back to his home in the pipes that run down the hillside.
We take showers at night because the tap is dry in the mornings and hot water is a scarce as a fast food restaurant in this neck of the woods. The shower is situated in our small kitchen with limited lighting. I stepped in, sorely in need of ablution (a South African word for all bathing and washing activities). A toad jumped up at me from the dark corners of the shower. I screamed and called for my sweet husband to come with our special toad hunting net. South African toilets are shrouded in lace and frou frou which makes for the perfect toad catcher. He found the lace netting decorated with maroon ribbons and grabbed that toad with an amazing expertise. (of course last year toad season yielded approximately 20 hits in our flat with none in our bed, fortunately). With immense gratitude toward the husband of the year, I bravely traipsed back into the shower getting ready for warm water and the comfort of a clean body after a long journey home. EEK, the father toad leaped out at me from the dark corner of the shower! I screamed and my faithful husband returned with our lacy toad catcher, ran to the door of our flat and threw him out into the night with his progeny. So has toad season started? Peace Corps manuals do not explain the true seasons of the year or cycles of experience. However, we are more experienced at dealing with surprises from nature, although old people do not appreciate being surprised, especially after the first cute toad is spotted. The other side of the mountain experience is that there is utter quiet at night, the beautiful birds are returning to devour the guava and pear trees, and the patients are so happy to see us. This is a special place that I am sure we will miss when we return home.
We returned to our South African home at Mountain High Hospital after touring the back roads and small towns of the Cape. I missed the patients, our comfortable cozy flat and the beauty of this mountain site. However, after a week of living with power, water (even hot water) and a rental car it is hard to go back to the challenges of life in rural Africa. Interestingly enough, the discomforts vary from day to day and hour to hour so one is always surprised. We opened the door to our flat and found water and electricity; so far so good. The food in the refrigerator had not rotted and the hot water poured out of the tap like a geyser. I lifted up the toilet lid and shrieked at the first surprise- Mr. Toad was swimming in the toilet bowl with arms flaying and legs hyper extended. I quickly shoved the lid down and called for my US Army Artillery trained husband to take action. His fighting words were “just flush”. The pour soul was flushed back to his home in the pipes that run down the hillside.
We take showers at night because the tap is dry in the mornings and hot water is a scarce as a fast food restaurant in this neck of the woods. The shower is situated in our small kitchen with limited lighting. I stepped in, sorely in need of ablution (a South African word for all bathing and washing activities). A toad jumped up at me from the dark corners of the shower. I screamed and called for my sweet husband to come with our special toad hunting net. South African toilets are shrouded in lace and frou frou which makes for the perfect toad catcher. He found the lace netting decorated with maroon ribbons and grabbed that toad with an amazing expertise. (of course last year toad season yielded approximately 20 hits in our flat with none in our bed, fortunately). With immense gratitude toward the husband of the year, I bravely traipsed back into the shower getting ready for warm water and the comfort of a clean body after a long journey home. EEK, the father toad leaped out at me from the dark corner of the shower! I screamed and my faithful husband returned with our lacy toad catcher, ran to the door of our flat and threw him out into the night with his progeny. So has toad season started? Peace Corps manuals do not explain the true seasons of the year or cycles of experience. However, we are more experienced at dealing with surprises from nature, although old people do not appreciate being surprised, especially after the first cute toad is spotted. The other side of the mountain experience is that there is utter quiet at night, the beautiful birds are returning to devour the guava and pear trees, and the patients are so happy to see us. This is a special place that I am sure we will miss when we return home.
Monday, March 31, 2008
Klein Karoo
Sorry for the long delay in blogging but the Bond’s took advantage of the long Easter weekend to explore the Klein Karoo, South Africa’s version of Route 66, and the garden route of the Cape.
Just before we left for the Cape, Mountain High Hospital coordinated an AIDS education day for the adjoining high school. Planning this event was an act of faith on everyone’s part as the high school is run by the government school district and the hospital is directed by a private religious NGO. However, since our arrival we have heard that there was a need for the high school students to be presented with accurate information about HIV, testing, prevention, STD’s and health education in general. Unfortunately, the high school students go home in Nov. for their summer break and miss the AIDS Awareness event held each Dec. Our job as Peace Corps volunteers was to act as the go-between between the school officials and the nursing staff to make the event happen. Would the nurses be available to give the pitch and answer questions from the students? Would the school officials and teachers support the event and create time for the messages? Would the students be interested in the information and come forward with their issues and questions? The Answer is Yes Yes Yes to all concerns. In spite of the rain and some logistic issues (the girl’s dining room was also hosting a teachers training conference) the nurses showed up and had a powerful punch. They told the students that there generation could be doomed by 2020 if the students did not take steps to stay AIDS free for life. The nurses gave out factual information about prevention, testing and positive living, if one tests positive and the availability of ARVs. The students were given cards for anonymous health questions and to our surprise, most of the 120 learners submitted questions, which took most of the afternoon to answer. Surprisingly, none were prank questions. The students are intimately affected by the AIDS epidemic as many have had a close relative die. The reality is as close as the tombstone dealer in the shopping malls in town and the billboards proclaiming that “Prevention is Better than (NO) Cure.”
With this great experience in mind, we headed off for the Cape to celebrate Easter, along with most of South Africans who travel to Durban or the Cape for the holiday. Our first destination was Knysna (pronounced Nice na), a beautiful spot on the Indian Ocean that reminded me of Tiburon in the SF Bay Area. It even has a suburb of Belvedere, with a beautiful old stone church, gardens and graveyard. Knysna has a lagoon and headlands available for hiking and viewing the wild surf below. Further down the road we ran into Tsitikamma National Park with even more rugged coast, indigenous forests and surf, looking like Big Sur. The area is loaded with hiking trails to the view points above and first world comforts like movie theatres, interesting shopping, and restaurants. After a few days of “Marin County” South African Style we were ready for more adventure so we headed out to the Klein Karoo, the high desert of South Africa. The mountain pass from coast to the high desert did not disappoint as it round the craggy cliffs with view of the sea and the deep valleys and gorges of the mountains surrounding the coast. One has to give the voortrekkers credit for finding these passes and pushing their own personal limits to reach the new lands beyond the coast. Capetown is surrounded by craggy cliffs in all directions which appear insurmountable. Wagons had to be dismantled and contents hand carried over the steep cliffs to reach the grazing lands on the other side. When the highways were finally built over the mountains, the British engineers built the passes for elegance and great viewing so they are a true pleasure to drive.
After climbing the steep pass up from George through the four pass area and gawking at the fantastic views we arrived in the Klein Karoo, the small high desert area east of Cape Town. This area is famous for ostrich farms, dry desert air and plenty of open space. Oudtshoorn, the biggest town, was having an Arts festival which sounded great to Peace Corps folks from the deep bush but alas, most of the events were in Afrikaans, a language we have not been able to learn. This festival goes on for 10 days with a huge attendance for the drama, popular music, dance and fine arts. After enjoying some Afrikaans light rock we headed out on Route 62, feeling like our grandparents when they went west on Route 66. Sorry, no teepee motels but plenty of quaint small towns and desert landscape with gorgeous red rock formations, scrub, and magnificent mountains on all sides. Truly a wonderful drive and another insight into the amazing sights of South Africa.
Just before we left for the Cape, Mountain High Hospital coordinated an AIDS education day for the adjoining high school. Planning this event was an act of faith on everyone’s part as the high school is run by the government school district and the hospital is directed by a private religious NGO. However, since our arrival we have heard that there was a need for the high school students to be presented with accurate information about HIV, testing, prevention, STD’s and health education in general. Unfortunately, the high school students go home in Nov. for their summer break and miss the AIDS Awareness event held each Dec. Our job as Peace Corps volunteers was to act as the go-between between the school officials and the nursing staff to make the event happen. Would the nurses be available to give the pitch and answer questions from the students? Would the school officials and teachers support the event and create time for the messages? Would the students be interested in the information and come forward with their issues and questions? The Answer is Yes Yes Yes to all concerns. In spite of the rain and some logistic issues (the girl’s dining room was also hosting a teachers training conference) the nurses showed up and had a powerful punch. They told the students that there generation could be doomed by 2020 if the students did not take steps to stay AIDS free for life. The nurses gave out factual information about prevention, testing and positive living, if one tests positive and the availability of ARVs. The students were given cards for anonymous health questions and to our surprise, most of the 120 learners submitted questions, which took most of the afternoon to answer. Surprisingly, none were prank questions. The students are intimately affected by the AIDS epidemic as many have had a close relative die. The reality is as close as the tombstone dealer in the shopping malls in town and the billboards proclaiming that “Prevention is Better than (NO) Cure.”
With this great experience in mind, we headed off for the Cape to celebrate Easter, along with most of South Africans who travel to Durban or the Cape for the holiday. Our first destination was Knysna (pronounced Nice na), a beautiful spot on the Indian Ocean that reminded me of Tiburon in the SF Bay Area. It even has a suburb of Belvedere, with a beautiful old stone church, gardens and graveyard. Knysna has a lagoon and headlands available for hiking and viewing the wild surf below. Further down the road we ran into Tsitikamma National Park with even more rugged coast, indigenous forests and surf, looking like Big Sur. The area is loaded with hiking trails to the view points above and first world comforts like movie theatres, interesting shopping, and restaurants. After a few days of “Marin County” South African Style we were ready for more adventure so we headed out to the Klein Karoo, the high desert of South Africa. The mountain pass from coast to the high desert did not disappoint as it round the craggy cliffs with view of the sea and the deep valleys and gorges of the mountains surrounding the coast. One has to give the voortrekkers credit for finding these passes and pushing their own personal limits to reach the new lands beyond the coast. Capetown is surrounded by craggy cliffs in all directions which appear insurmountable. Wagons had to be dismantled and contents hand carried over the steep cliffs to reach the grazing lands on the other side. When the highways were finally built over the mountains, the British engineers built the passes for elegance and great viewing so they are a true pleasure to drive.
After climbing the steep pass up from George through the four pass area and gawking at the fantastic views we arrived in the Klein Karoo, the small high desert area east of Cape Town. This area is famous for ostrich farms, dry desert air and plenty of open space. Oudtshoorn, the biggest town, was having an Arts festival which sounded great to Peace Corps folks from the deep bush but alas, most of the events were in Afrikaans, a language we have not been able to learn. This festival goes on for 10 days with a huge attendance for the drama, popular music, dance and fine arts. After enjoying some Afrikaans light rock we headed out on Route 62, feeling like our grandparents when they went west on Route 66. Sorry, no teepee motels but plenty of quaint small towns and desert landscape with gorgeous red rock formations, scrub, and magnificent mountains on all sides. Truly a wonderful drive and another insight into the amazing sights of South Africa.
Sunday, March 16, 2008
Poverty and Pension Day
The reality that this is the final stretch of our Peace Corps service hit home this week as we hurried up to complete projects and leave mechanisms in place for sustainability of the occupational therapy program, staff computer training, and new business processes. The money from the Peace Corps grant to purchase beads, sewing materials, and shoemaking supplies for AIDS patient’s handwork is almost depleted. Monday was Pension Day at the small tuck shop in the forest so I hauled my fleece hats, scarves, two chairs and the volunteer coordinator to the site. (A prior attempt to sell hats to the retirees and disabled was a dismal failure with a huge rainstorm, obnoxious drunks and shoplifters gleefully absconding with the hats.) This time the weather was not ideal for selling soft fleece as it was very sunny and warm, but 11 customers came forward to buy the children’s models. (No thefts due to the vigilance of the volunteer helper).
Pension Day is an amazing spectacle in a rural area where one usually sees only small groups of people in their kraals or walking down the road. The grannies and welfare beneficiaries gather once a month under a tree or community center to receive their small pensions in cash. The money is delivered in two armored trucks followed by the clerks that make the distributions. The money train has a specific route to follow for the day, but the exact time of distribution is unknown. Thus the crowd gathers early in the day and waits for the magical money entourage to arrive. The beneficiaries attract a hoard of hawkers with live chickens, cold drinks, mangoes, plums, sheaves of snuff, muti (traditional medicine), brooms, linens, cheap watches, and fleece hats. We set up our chairs in the shade in front of the tuck shop but were asked to move to the side of the shop by the owner. I spotted an open spot by the water tank which was a great location on the sunny day as the crowd opened the spigot for a drink of water and were accosted by a middle aged lady selling hats for AIDS patients, children’s sizes only 5 rand (75 cents). My major competition was the man across the road with a crate full of live white chickens which were the hit of pension day. He lifted the wiggling chickens from the crate into a small chicken coop. The customer selects his/her favorite from the coop and is handed the squawking beast to take home. The method is to take a piece or rope or plastic bag and tie the feet together, but alas many of the women are seen diving into the bushes to chase a chicken who has escaped from the stew pot. The mothers mill among the vendors with their babies rigged to their backs with a bath towel. Seldom does one hear a baby cry in South Africa; however keeping the baby in place is a constant struggle with mother juggling their load and tightening the towel in front. Mothers getting in the back of a crowded taxi have an especially difficult challenge to keep the baby from being dropped or crushed but they manage the difficult dance with grace and rhythm.
When the pension vehicle train arrives the gogos, mothers and disabled form a queue and the money is quickly distributed. The train hurriedly takes off for the next remote rural location. The women are reluctant to go home as they catch up on the gossip and see old friends. They sit on the ground in circles and pass around a quart of Castle beer or coca cola and are entertained by the roving hawkers. Grandsons arrive to hit up the gogos for cash and a treat. Direct deposit of social security checks certainly can’t compare with this community event.
The reality of poverty is evident even on pension day. The mothers cannot afford the 5 rand for a hat for their new baby but look longingly at the colorful soft hats with bears, antelopes and Zulu patterns. Our NGO headquarters made a small order for their uniform shop in Joburg; perhaps sales will be better in the city, especially when the weather turns cold. The sad reality is that it takes about R2000 ($250) a month to sustain the patient handcrafts program, R1600 for materials and R400 for the volunteer coordinator. Over 400 patients have participated in the program and have learned many new skills as well as having some activity each day. I worry that as soon as we leave in June the program will end- the worst fear of Peace Corps volunteers. However, it has been a great experience and many patients have benefitted. (not to mention a US matron who is now an accomplished Zulu beader). Prior to our arrival, patients were bored during their long 3 month stays in the hospital. Their families are distant. On Friday I sat next to a woman on the taxi who was traveling to see her bedridden sister at the Hospital. It took all morning and 4 taxi rides to get to the hospital. After a one hour visit she reversed the journey as there is nowhere for families to stay at Mountain High.
Rural poverty is evident even among the best and brightest in rural Zululand. Our Zulu teacher is now in 12th grade but cannot afford to board at the high school due to his grandmother having a stroke just before school started in Jan. He is the class president and charismatic student leader. But at 17 years, he stays in a hut near the high school, hauls his water for drinking, cooking and washing. He must obtain all of his food from town and cook it on a small gas flame. He has no electricity so does his homework by candlelight. On Sunday he comes to our flat to borrow an iron to beautifully press the yellow dress shirts required for high school in South Africa. He is paid a small amount to teach Zulu to the Americans (R40 per week) but that does not cover taxi fare to town to buy food or visit his family. He never complains and is upbeat about going to university next year. He is a stellar student and will not give up until every assignment is done well and he understands the concepts. Friday night he came to our flat as he had no food and wanted 2 cups of mealy meal to make his supper. He was surprised and disappointed to learn that the Americans had no mealy meal (corn meal, the basic staple of SA) in their cupboard-only Jungle oats, which were offered along with sausage, spinach and a peach. What sacrifice for a young man to endure in order to obtain the excellent education at the high school. Stories of struggling students in American cannot compare with the grinding poverty we have seen.
Pension Day is an amazing spectacle in a rural area where one usually sees only small groups of people in their kraals or walking down the road. The grannies and welfare beneficiaries gather once a month under a tree or community center to receive their small pensions in cash. The money is delivered in two armored trucks followed by the clerks that make the distributions. The money train has a specific route to follow for the day, but the exact time of distribution is unknown. Thus the crowd gathers early in the day and waits for the magical money entourage to arrive. The beneficiaries attract a hoard of hawkers with live chickens, cold drinks, mangoes, plums, sheaves of snuff, muti (traditional medicine), brooms, linens, cheap watches, and fleece hats. We set up our chairs in the shade in front of the tuck shop but were asked to move to the side of the shop by the owner. I spotted an open spot by the water tank which was a great location on the sunny day as the crowd opened the spigot for a drink of water and were accosted by a middle aged lady selling hats for AIDS patients, children’s sizes only 5 rand (75 cents). My major competition was the man across the road with a crate full of live white chickens which were the hit of pension day. He lifted the wiggling chickens from the crate into a small chicken coop. The customer selects his/her favorite from the coop and is handed the squawking beast to take home. The method is to take a piece or rope or plastic bag and tie the feet together, but alas many of the women are seen diving into the bushes to chase a chicken who has escaped from the stew pot. The mothers mill among the vendors with their babies rigged to their backs with a bath towel. Seldom does one hear a baby cry in South Africa; however keeping the baby in place is a constant struggle with mother juggling their load and tightening the towel in front. Mothers getting in the back of a crowded taxi have an especially difficult challenge to keep the baby from being dropped or crushed but they manage the difficult dance with grace and rhythm.
When the pension vehicle train arrives the gogos, mothers and disabled form a queue and the money is quickly distributed. The train hurriedly takes off for the next remote rural location. The women are reluctant to go home as they catch up on the gossip and see old friends. They sit on the ground in circles and pass around a quart of Castle beer or coca cola and are entertained by the roving hawkers. Grandsons arrive to hit up the gogos for cash and a treat. Direct deposit of social security checks certainly can’t compare with this community event.
The reality of poverty is evident even on pension day. The mothers cannot afford the 5 rand for a hat for their new baby but look longingly at the colorful soft hats with bears, antelopes and Zulu patterns. Our NGO headquarters made a small order for their uniform shop in Joburg; perhaps sales will be better in the city, especially when the weather turns cold. The sad reality is that it takes about R2000 ($250) a month to sustain the patient handcrafts program, R1600 for materials and R400 for the volunteer coordinator. Over 400 patients have participated in the program and have learned many new skills as well as having some activity each day. I worry that as soon as we leave in June the program will end- the worst fear of Peace Corps volunteers. However, it has been a great experience and many patients have benefitted. (not to mention a US matron who is now an accomplished Zulu beader). Prior to our arrival, patients were bored during their long 3 month stays in the hospital. Their families are distant. On Friday I sat next to a woman on the taxi who was traveling to see her bedridden sister at the Hospital. It took all morning and 4 taxi rides to get to the hospital. After a one hour visit she reversed the journey as there is nowhere for families to stay at Mountain High.
Rural poverty is evident even among the best and brightest in rural Zululand. Our Zulu teacher is now in 12th grade but cannot afford to board at the high school due to his grandmother having a stroke just before school started in Jan. He is the class president and charismatic student leader. But at 17 years, he stays in a hut near the high school, hauls his water for drinking, cooking and washing. He must obtain all of his food from town and cook it on a small gas flame. He has no electricity so does his homework by candlelight. On Sunday he comes to our flat to borrow an iron to beautifully press the yellow dress shirts required for high school in South Africa. He is paid a small amount to teach Zulu to the Americans (R40 per week) but that does not cover taxi fare to town to buy food or visit his family. He never complains and is upbeat about going to university next year. He is a stellar student and will not give up until every assignment is done well and he understands the concepts. Friday night he came to our flat as he had no food and wanted 2 cups of mealy meal to make his supper. He was surprised and disappointed to learn that the Americans had no mealy meal (corn meal, the basic staple of SA) in their cupboard-only Jungle oats, which were offered along with sausage, spinach and a peach. What sacrifice for a young man to endure in order to obtain the excellent education at the high school. Stories of struggling students in American cannot compare with the grinding poverty we have seen.
Saturday, March 15, 2008
Sunday, March 09, 2008
Unexpected Weekend in Vryheid
After a great trip touring Zululand last week with our US pals, we decided to stay at Mountain High Hospital for the weekend and catch up on our reading. (our replacement ATM cards from the US have not arrived and the Peace Corps stipend of $250 does not stretch very far). Easter plans include a trip to the Cape so we will be traveling again in a few weeks and were content to stay at our site.
However, the water woes continued at Mountain High. No water poured out of the taps every morning this week. As good Peace Corps Volunteers must do, we practiced patience and flexibility, changing our water usage (showers, dish washing, filling pots and pans with water, hand washing) to a short period in the evenings when the students in the high school are in study hall and the demand is lessened. Friday night arrived and we celebrated by making pizza. Alas shortly after taking the pizza out of the oven the taps ran dry. We had forgotten that there is no study hall on Friday night. The dishes from the day had piled up in the sink and our pitchers were depleted. All night the faucets were as dry as the bones in Ezekiel.
We got up at 5am on Saturday morning and found the same dry conditions so we changed our plans, packed up a few things and hurried to the only taxi that goes directly to town each Monday through Saturday. To our surprise we were the first passengers to arrive at the cement bench that serves as the taxi stand. The morning had a touch of fall in the air and the sunrise was shrouded in a pink mist. The days are growing shorter with sunrise at 6am, contrasting with the early sunrise of 430am during the height of summer. Life as a poor person in South Africa is a series of “Hurry Up and Wait” as an inordinate amount of time is spent waiting for the taxi to fill, waiting in the long lines at the bank (all bills are paid by deposits into the creditors bank account), and the long lines at the discount grocery stores with names like Boxer, Score and Shoprite. If one has electricity or a cell phone, queues are required to purchase pay as you go coupons that seem to run out very fast. Life is spent catching up. Most rural people do not have spares of household items or stockpiles of food in the larder. When they run out of food, light bulbs, toilet paper, propane, or kerosene, it is an all day trip to town to buy the necessary item. Substitutions are made during tough times – phone books and magazines work as toilet paper.
Many of the Mountain High residents are almost self sufficient, cutting down trees in the forest for firewood for cooking, growing mealies (corn), raising cattle and goats. They walk around with their long heavy knives swinging from their hands, which was a little menacing to Peace Corps volunteers at first. The women also cut down trees and use a turban on their heads to balance the heavy hard wood trunks, which must be hauled down the steep paths to their homes. Water is transported in plastic carboys balanced on their heads. Much of the day is spent fetching water, wood and livestock. The children of the local community are disadvantaged compared to the boarding students as have to 2 hour hikes each way on rough trails to get to school and then must tend cattle, haul water and wood when they get home. The quality of life would dramatically improve if rural residents had easy access to water and electricity. A large part of the day is spent in basic maintenance, rather than school work or leisure.
The Saturday morning ride to town is always an upbeat experience as the scenery is gorgeous and we are delighted to return to the first world for a break from the stresses and discomforts of the Hospital. We check in at Rita’s Guest House at 730 am and are greeted as family. There is no equivalent to Rita’s in the US as it is a 29 room guest house that is also the residence of the owner. She is a lively woman who loves to tell stories about the strange habits of her guests. The facility is also used for meetings and weddings- functions as they are called here in SA. The staff complains about weddings where the guests are boisterous and also about the weddings where no one drinks and the party is a bore. Rita is also a travel agent and knows every inch of SA, a country she deeply loves. She knows all of her guests by name and their favorite room, which are all individually decorated in Rita’s flouncy style. The lounge and halls are covered with African art, needlepoint, carved animals, Dutch kitsch and more. We spend hours sitting out in the beautiful garden and pool area planted with familiar and unfamiliar flowers and trees. Birds are also her guests-we are awakened each morning by the screeching Hadeda Ibis’s looking for grubs in the grass. All this for R380 ($50) a night, including breakfast.
Happy Birthday to my sister Lillian, who has been a faithful correspondant each week since we arrived. You are loved and appreciated. Thanks for your support.
However, the water woes continued at Mountain High. No water poured out of the taps every morning this week. As good Peace Corps Volunteers must do, we practiced patience and flexibility, changing our water usage (showers, dish washing, filling pots and pans with water, hand washing) to a short period in the evenings when the students in the high school are in study hall and the demand is lessened. Friday night arrived and we celebrated by making pizza. Alas shortly after taking the pizza out of the oven the taps ran dry. We had forgotten that there is no study hall on Friday night. The dishes from the day had piled up in the sink and our pitchers were depleted. All night the faucets were as dry as the bones in Ezekiel.
We got up at 5am on Saturday morning and found the same dry conditions so we changed our plans, packed up a few things and hurried to the only taxi that goes directly to town each Monday through Saturday. To our surprise we were the first passengers to arrive at the cement bench that serves as the taxi stand. The morning had a touch of fall in the air and the sunrise was shrouded in a pink mist. The days are growing shorter with sunrise at 6am, contrasting with the early sunrise of 430am during the height of summer. Life as a poor person in South Africa is a series of “Hurry Up and Wait” as an inordinate amount of time is spent waiting for the taxi to fill, waiting in the long lines at the bank (all bills are paid by deposits into the creditors bank account), and the long lines at the discount grocery stores with names like Boxer, Score and Shoprite. If one has electricity or a cell phone, queues are required to purchase pay as you go coupons that seem to run out very fast. Life is spent catching up. Most rural people do not have spares of household items or stockpiles of food in the larder. When they run out of food, light bulbs, toilet paper, propane, or kerosene, it is an all day trip to town to buy the necessary item. Substitutions are made during tough times – phone books and magazines work as toilet paper.
Many of the Mountain High residents are almost self sufficient, cutting down trees in the forest for firewood for cooking, growing mealies (corn), raising cattle and goats. They walk around with their long heavy knives swinging from their hands, which was a little menacing to Peace Corps volunteers at first. The women also cut down trees and use a turban on their heads to balance the heavy hard wood trunks, which must be hauled down the steep paths to their homes. Water is transported in plastic carboys balanced on their heads. Much of the day is spent fetching water, wood and livestock. The children of the local community are disadvantaged compared to the boarding students as have to 2 hour hikes each way on rough trails to get to school and then must tend cattle, haul water and wood when they get home. The quality of life would dramatically improve if rural residents had easy access to water and electricity. A large part of the day is spent in basic maintenance, rather than school work or leisure.
The Saturday morning ride to town is always an upbeat experience as the scenery is gorgeous and we are delighted to return to the first world for a break from the stresses and discomforts of the Hospital. We check in at Rita’s Guest House at 730 am and are greeted as family. There is no equivalent to Rita’s in the US as it is a 29 room guest house that is also the residence of the owner. She is a lively woman who loves to tell stories about the strange habits of her guests. The facility is also used for meetings and weddings- functions as they are called here in SA. The staff complains about weddings where the guests are boisterous and also about the weddings where no one drinks and the party is a bore. Rita is also a travel agent and knows every inch of SA, a country she deeply loves. She knows all of her guests by name and their favorite room, which are all individually decorated in Rita’s flouncy style. The lounge and halls are covered with African art, needlepoint, carved animals, Dutch kitsch and more. We spend hours sitting out in the beautiful garden and pool area planted with familiar and unfamiliar flowers and trees. Birds are also her guests-we are awakened each morning by the screeching Hadeda Ibis’s looking for grubs in the grass. All this for R380 ($50) a night, including breakfast.
Happy Birthday to my sister Lillian, who has been a faithful correspondant each week since we arrived. You are loved and appreciated. Thanks for your support.
Sunday, March 02, 2008
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