Sarah Considers Buying a Donkey, One More Week of Training, Something Grows from Nothing

Greetings from Africa!

 Goodmorning everybody! Le tsogile jang? (How did you rise?) I hear that Kentucky is super duper cold right now. I never thought I would miss a Kentucky winter, but I think I do!! One of the volunteers said, "Why do they call it outside when it should be called an oven?" The past few days have been at least 100 degrees and it didn't get much cooler at night. There is no air conditioning here. We can not open the windows at night because there are no screens so the mosquitoes will get ya (I have yet to figure out how to put up my mosquito net!) I laid on my bed, butt nekid, fanning myself, sweating profusely, trying to go to sleep. A "cold" front   moved in last night so it has    cooled off a bit. For now!

Extreme Soccer field? Dodge the acacia thorns to score a goal?!?

a ditch out in the bush, full of cow bones and garbage

My favorite thing in Africa, ginger beer

The homesickness I felt last week has aleviated for the most part. I still fantasize about going to the Olive Garden, relaxing in aircon all night, drinking a beverage that is not room warm. A little piece of America snuck into my ear yesterday as I was walking home from school. I saw a young girl pushing a wheelbarrow towards me. Nothing unusual about that. When she passed me, I noticed that she was playing music on her phone. Also nothing unusual about that. When I heard the song, I had to stop and laugh. The girl was listening to "Country Roads" by John Denver. Nothing unusual about that!! Just about every time I go into the local grocery store some random American music is blasting. So far I've heard various 80's hair band songs, some Cyndi Lauper, and lots of American club music. I think "La Bamba", which I heard standing in line at Pep, takes the cake.

I have only one week of training left and only two more days of actual classes. Today, I have my final language interview and then I'm cooking for the host family thank you party tomorrow. We had some great classes this week including sessions about potential life skills projects and how to stay emotionally healthy during the first two months at site. During the first two and a half months at site, volunteers do a through community assessment. For the sake of intergrating into the community, we are forbidden from leaving our sites during this time. This phase, nicknamed "Lockdown", can be very emotionally taxing for new volunteers. The country director has granted us permission to travel for Christmas so we don't have nervous breakdowns.

Snazzy sandal tan

A week from yesterday, on November 15th, I will be swearing in as an official Peace Corps Volunteer. In this ceremony, trainees take an oath and sing the Botswana anthem. Several trainees are giving speeches in Setswana. It should be quite an event.

The room in which I have
 spent the last two months of my life

Come Friday I will be on my way to my new village, Tshane! A Peace Corps staffer visited my house this week to check on it. I talked to him yesterday and he even showed me some pictures! It is a really nice house. My house represents the best accomodations a volunteer can expect to have. I have a bath tub and a sink in my kitchen! It is a stone's throw from the school where I will be spending most of my time. I also have a really adorable little porch. The Ministry of Education has yet to deliver my furniture, but other than that bit of worry I'm sooooo excited! I have heard that there are many camels and donkey carts in Tshane. Donkeys cost 400 pula, or $51. I really want a pet donkey to kiss and brush and snuggle and to carry my backpack for me. I would like to have a camel for transport, but the PC requires us to wear helmets when riding animals. Can you picture me riding a camel down the dirt road with a bicycle helmet on?

My tiny, baby chickens are growing!

The tuck shop where Legwinya
(fat cakes-fried bread from Heaven) are made

Fat Cake Lady and her fat cakes

My host mom gave me two beautiful ceramic bowls to take to my site. They are white with pink roses on them. I am very grateful to her for allowing me to stay in her house and eat her cooking for the past few months. I'm going to really miss my goofy brother, Jensen, but I hope to visit them at some point during my service.

something from nothing...

I have attached a picture of something I saw walking through the bush on my way to school. I saw a flower growing in the dirt, a single, lonely flower. It was not attached to a tree or a bush. It had no stem to speak of. Just when I needed to be reminded of why I came to Africa, I saw this little bloom and had a revelation. With the little amount of rain that has recently fallen, a lone, purple blossom was able to grow right out of the dust. With a little support, something beautiful can grow from nothing. From the positive influence and love I will provide during my short stay in Africa, the orphans and vulnerable children I work with can grow into beautiful young people who will make their OWN futures and thrive. That's why I'm here.

some kind of succulent tree, it looks like a GIANT
aloe plant with a trunk

Salang sentle! Stay well!

3 Nov 12: Sarah Takes a Ride on an Emotional Roller Coaster

I wasn't a downer all week, I swear. 

Happy Belated Halloween!

Disclaimer: this post contains graphic descriptions of animal abuse and the near nervous breakdown of a certain Peace Corps Trainee (me.) The first part of this post is heavy. Just wanted to warn you.

I think the purpose of these emails/my blog is to share honestly and openly my experiences in Africa. In an attempt to keep my emails honest, I have to admit that this week has been my hardest week in Botswana so far. Homesickness snuck up on me and it hit hard. I keep having fantasies about riding the steam locomotive at Dollywood and hiking the Appalachian Trail! I've also been struggling with certain emerging cultural practices and behaviors that I a) don't agree with and b) can't accept.

Where I wanted to be all week.

Things with Frank, my handsome neighbor, didn't turn out like I had planned. Not only did I not anticipate the cultural differences between us, I didn't know that there is no distinction between "love" and "lust" in Botswana. I gave Frank my number and he called me. I couldn't understand him, so I just went over to his house. He pulled me into his bedroom and tried to kiss me. That made me so uncomfortable that I decided not to pursue a friendship with him. Lizzy, my host mom, gave me a lot of crap for that decision. She was not supportive, saying "he just loves you and wants to marry you." This caused some real friction between us, which ended with my language teacher having to intervene. Frank continued to bug me by text but having been ignored all week, I think he has given up. I have no doubt that Frank is a perfectly wonderful man, I'm just not ready for that kind of intensity right now. Lesson learned.

As I mentioned in a previous email, there are donkeys everywhere here. Thursday morning, I was walking to school when I noticed a donkey laying on the side of the road. I thought he had been hit by a car, but he was raising his head so I knew he was still alive. I could NOT just walk by him and let him suffer there. I approached him, slowly, and looked him over. His front legs were bloody and oozing pus down by his hooves. I thought he had been hit and his legs broken. The closer I got, the more scared the donkey became. Some people are VERY cruel to donkeys in this country. They are frequently beaten and whipped until their skin hangs in strips. IT IS TERRIBLE. Anyway...the donkey got scared and started to stand up. When it stood up I saw that his legs were not broken, they had been tied together at the hooves. He could only move by hopping on one front leg. His skin was open and bleeding and infected from the rope. He went out into the road trying to get away from me. Without thinking I got out my knife, threw off my backpack and went after him. When I was able to shoo him out of the road (and as cars were dodging us), I tried to cut the short rope binding his legs. The donkey wouldn't hold still so I wrestled him to the ground. I tried my damndest to cut the rope but it was too thick and had hardened with matted, dried blood. All the time, the donkey was kicking at me and biting me.

Finally I had no choice but to accept the fact that I could not free the poor animal. He got up and hobbled away from me. I stood there on the side of the road, covered in nasty, stinky donkey crud/fur, with a bloody knife in my hand, being passed by my classmates in taxis. All I could do was burst into tears and so that's exactly what I did. I put my knife in my pocket, picked up my backpack and my lunch and my book and walked to school. Seeing that poor donkey who had been treated so cruelly and then not being able to do anything to help him...well I couldn't take it. I cried all the way to school, bawling, sniffling and snotting and I continued to cry for about an hour. I couldn't stop.

In the process of trying to cut the rope, I managed to stab myself in the arm twice and I sustained a donkey bite wound on my foot (I was wearing flip flops), which is now infected. Eventually, I was able to pull myself together. I had a little therapy session with a volunter who is a member of the Peer Support and Diversity Network (PSDN.) PSDN members are Peace Corps volunteers who have exceptional training and skill in counseling. They provide confidential counseling and advice to other volunteers. Pre-service training is so stressful that Peace Corps pays to have at least two PSDN members present all times.

I mentioned that there are certain cultural things that have emerged that I am having a hard time dealing with. When I go to the shops, people point and laugh at me for no reason, stare at me, and some even ask for money. When I first got here, I ignored it and tried to be super culturally sensitive. After talking to current volunteers, I decided that I don't have to accept behavior that is rude or makes me uncomfortable. I have to live here for two years and I will not accept inappropriate behavior, especially when it is justified as being a "cultural miscommunication." Asking people for money is RUDE everywhere. If someone knows that I am a volunteer, yet they still ask me for money, they get "Nnya. Wena mpha madi," which means "No, YOU give ME money." I repeat that over and over like a crazy person and it makes them very uneasy. The Batswana are a very non-confrontational people so when you call them out on their rudeness, they are shocked and they leave you alone.

Look at that skill!

 Thankfully, things improved by Friday. Me and the other trainees got to take a trip to the capital to visit a diamond polishing plant. This is not somewhere that tourists get to go so I was really really honored to be able to tour the Steinmetz Diamond Park. The security at this place was unreal. We had to have our fingerprints and pictures taken! First, the manager gave us a nice powerpoint presentation accompanied by sodas, cookies, and cupcakes. Then we got to see how a rough diamond becomes a nice polished stone. We began in the marking room. I got to hold a 10 karat rough diamond! In the marking room, a computer is used to mark the flaws in the rough diamond. The computer then generates a model of how best to cut the diamond to maximize the value of it. Then we went on to the cutting room, where the rough diamonds are cut into smaller diamonds. Then on to polishing where the real magic happens. Imagine a factory-style room full of people polishing diamonds on wheels that look like turn tables. Each employee has his or her own wheel, which is covered in diamond powder. These talented people spend about 40 minutes per stone, grinding and polishing the rough diamond into something sparkly and beautiful and amazing. They hand grind every facet with only their skill and the little eyeball magnifying thing. After the diamond is polished, it is sent up to the gemologists for a final inspection. If the diamond passes inspection, it is sent on to be sold.

You know, just hanging out
with $3,000,000 worth of
diamonds on my hand. No biggie.

All of the diamonds at Steinmetz come from mines owned by DeBeers. The most exciting part of the tour was seeing the final polished diamonds in the gemologist room. When we went in, there were 2 gemologists at work, a male and a female. The lady gemologist showed us some beautiful diamonds that would soon be sent on to jewelers. I laid my hand on the table and she carefully placed 5 large diamonds, some white and some yellow on my hand. As Diane was taking a picture of my hand, the lady informed me that the 5 diamonds on my hand were together worth more than...get ready...3 million US dollars. I ALMOST POOPED MY PANTS. I still can't believe that they put $3 million worth of diamonds on my grubby, little hand. After the tour, I got to go have pizza for lunch!!

I had my second LPI this week and I scored Intermediate Mid, which is one step higher than I scored on the last one. I will be starting Sekgalagadi language on Monday, which I'm pretty excited about. Two weeks from yesterday and I will be on my way to Tshane! I went to the capital on Tuesday for a medical appointment and I was able to do some shopping. I think I'm ready to go! I have stocked up on pasta, rice, and dry sauce mixes. It is unlikely that I will have a refrigerator, so I'm prepared to embrace vegetarianism. While I was in Gaborone, I got to have lunch at the famous Nando's. I had a chicken burger and it was delicious!

Nando's! Eating something other than
maize meal = best.day.ever.

I learned how to carry groceries on my head!

I walked to the grocery store on Monday, which is a mile away from my house. I carried my groceries all the way home on my head. No hands! I was so proud of myself that I immortalized the moment in film (see my blog!) Jensen harvested his first crop of rape from his garden at school. That was not a spelling error. It really is called rape and it is a kind of leafy green that is grown here. Jensen takes very good care of his garden, even walking a mile to school on the weekends to water his plants. I am a proud big sis today!

Any Returned Peace Corps Volunteer will tell you that Peace Corps service is the most stressful, difficult, emotional experience they have ever had. For those of you who know me well, you know that I am the type of person who never cuts myself any slack. In America, I worked almost 24-7. I never allowed myself to relax and I rarely indulged in my emotions. That doesn't work here. This week I realized that the secret to being a successful Peace Corps Volunteer is about recognizing certain things:

1. I have to acknowledge that this is the most stressful thing I have ever done. It is not all rainbows and lollipops. I have given up my life to come to a country where I have no friends, I don't speak the local language, and I don't know the culture.

2. I have to remind myself everyday that this is not a job. I am not being paid. If I need to stay home a day and just read, I WILL do that. Maintaining my mental and emotional well-being is more important than pleasing my colleagues.

3. Peace Corps Volunteers are a hot mess. More often than not, we are dirty, hairy, and exhausted. I shouldn't expect to maintain the same kind of personal appearance that I kept up in the US. I've already stopped painting my fingernails and I only wash my hair twice per week and do you know what? It's fine!

4. I have to learn to cut myself some slack. If I'm upset and I just can't hold it in any longer and I need to cry for an hour, that's ok. If Lui has to give me a hug for 30 minutes because I'm an emotional wreck, I shouldn't be embarrassed or feel bad. Chances are, in a week, the shoe will be on the other foot and I'll be the one providing the hug for him.

5. Peace Corps service is the most rewarding, unbelievable experience a person can ever have. Through my own merit and achievements, I have been chosen as one of the few people who can call themselves a Peace Corps Volunteer. I deserve to be here and I WILL do great things.

Jackpot! Pasta sauce mixes that don't require milk!

This week was truly a 5 day roller coaster of emotion. During Pre-Service Training we have a session about the typical emotional cycle of a Peace Corps Volunteer. This week has marked the end of the first honeymoon phase, which will begin again when I go to site. I take comfort in knowing that I am just becoming a typical Peace Corps Volunteer: greasy hair, hoarding plastic bags/peanut butter jars, nursing a donkey bite wound on my foot, ready to change the world. Pula!