18 May 13: Sarah Teaches Yoga at Prison, Get Banned From the School Computer, and Takes Another Ride on the Roller Coaster

Good morning everybody! You're probably wondering where I've been for the last month, right? I've been around. The first week that I didn't write, I was in bad spirits. A lot of negative shit was happening here and I didn't want to drag my people into it. I decided that I would wait another week and write when I was in a better mood. Well the weeks went by. Same ol' same ol' until finally a month had passed!
So here's what you missed:

Home-Based Care Workshop!!

Using pillows to prevent pressure ulcers.

The first week of May I conducted a workshop for the Home-Based Care Volunteers in my village. We discussed all things how to take care of a bed-ridden person. I showed them some things they didn't know, i.e. using a draw sheet to pull someone up in bed, catheter care, and reinforced things they already knew. The health educator from the clinic served as my translator and "patient." There was a lot of laughing and I think the ladies enjoyed it. They invited me to accompany them on Home-Based Care visits in the future.

Rudimentary catheter care lesson using a rolled up piece of
paper!

I got the green light from the officer in charge of the prison to start a once-a-week yoga class for the inmates. We have had three classes so far and it is a HUGE success. The first class, I had 19 eager students ready to learn yoga! Some students leave and new students come but it's remained pretty much the same group of 15 guys. What keeps me inspired is their dedication to the practice. They give it everything in them when I'm there. And then when it's time for me to leave I've got 10 guys trying to roll up my mat for me! Last week my two favorite guys were transferred to another prison pending release. They both served as translators for me as they are well educated. I don't know if I should be embarrassed to say that my two closest friends in my village were prisoners but it's true. I'm sad that they are gone but I'm happy that they are getting out.

The shit hit the proverbial fan at school when I went to print something and was told that "teachers have been complaining" about my use of the school printer. I print around 2 pages per week for my projects at prison because I like to document what I'm doing there. Granted what I print is NOT school-related, I figured it would be fine considering I have typed and printed personal documents for teachers on many occasions (i.e. my school head's lease for her rental property, a letter for the deputy school head, etc.) Evidently, my 2 pages per week are going to run the printer out of ink. So I got banned from using our brand new computer and printer. Yeahhh.

I decided that I wouldn't feel comfortable submitting handwritten reports so me and my friend, Diane, planned a weekend trip to Gaborone where I could buy a printer. Besides eating good food, sleeping in a real bed, and watching tv, Diane helped me pick out some running shoes. With the wifi at Mugg and Bean Cafe I was able to sign up for the Victoria Falls 5K in mid July. I made plans to stay at a Backpackers in Livingston, Zambia. We also enjoyed an evening at the casino and a fancy dinner at the hotel's Asian restaurant! After a particularly enraging public transportation experience, we spent a couple of hours practicing our most offensive insults for next time.

I came home from Gabs a little more relaxed and a little less pissed at the school. When I arrived home late at night, I freaked out because Millie wasn't in her usual sleeping spot. The electricity was out, as it is almost every night now, so I found my lantern and set off looking for my girl. She was sleeping in the neighbor's yard. She has discovered that if she really really wants to she can jumpfly over the fence. Problem is, she can't remember how to get back. She's not all that smart. So the next morning I went to the neighbor's yard, greeted her, and she followed me home for breakfast. Crazy little lady!

Interest in my aerobics class has kind of fizzled out. I've had only a few students for several weeks in a row and I've decided to cancel it or switch it up or something. Since I'm training for the 5k, I think I'm going to organize a run/walk club that meets Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday. We'll see.

GrassRootSoccer is still trucking along. We have 4 more practices left until graduation. We hit a snag a couple of weeks ago when several of the 7th grade girls decided to quit the team and peer pressure a bunch of other girls to go with them. I had a little talk with the kids about how we make choices in our lives. I told them that they have the choice to come to GRS or not to come. If they chose not to come, they would also choose not to graduate from GRS and if they don't graduate they don't get to come to the amazing graduation party. That pretty much took care of it. The diva 7th grade girls still have not returned but everyone else is back.

I attempted to start a computer class for teachers at school. So far not a single teacher has been taught computer skills because something always happens last minute that causes them to cancel. That is exactly what I expected would happen. Fine with me.

A special thank you to my mom and her coworkers who raised money for toiletries for the men at Tshane Prison! Also, thank you, to my dad and step-mom who are doing a fundraiser to buy toys for the preschool.

So I've described to you two of the four weeks that you've missed. This last week and a half has been no bueno. On Thursday, May 9th I came down with a little tickle in my throat that became bronchitis, pharyngitis, and an ear infection. On Sunday I got antibiotics from Florence, favorite nurse ever. Monday, I woke up unable to swallow and having breathing difficulty. The ambulance took me to Hukuntsi Primary Hospital, not so favorite hospital ever. I was skeptical about the level of care I would receive there having experienced that place during the mumps episode last year. A young nurse named Thula, a friend of the PCV in Hukuntsi, made me her personal project and took care of me while I was there. She called the doctor in off the wards to tend to me, escorted me to xray (had to rule out Tuberculosis of course), offered me tea from her home, and then drove me to the store to buy juice. I ended up getting an antibiotic injection, some tylenol, and strict instructions to rest.

Getting sick here is not like getting sick in America. In America you can pop on down to Walgreens for some cough medicine. In America you have family and friends who will bring you ice cream and Sprite and call you all the time to check on you. Being sick here...different story. It's every woman for herself. I spent 7 days in bed. Literally. All day and all night. I had to cancel all of my activities this week. Yesterday, I got up and stayed up all day for the first time. The sore throat and the ear infection have gone away, but I'm left with a nasty cough that keeps me up at night. Wait! I did have some visitors: the teachers from my school came to check on me. Unfortunately, the school head took that opportunity to bitch me out. When I left the hospital on Monday, I had to hitchhike home. I got a ride in the back of a police truck and then had to walk home from the police station. I walked by the school, a zombie more or less, just wanting to get home and get to bed. My school head was angry at me that I didn't stop by the school office and chat with her. See what I mean? See why I never go to school?

Funny story: Yesterday Florence insisted that I buy this peppermint oil stuff, labeled as a cure for flatulence, from the general dealer near my house. It is peppermint oil and alcohol (81%!!) that you mix with water and drink. Home remedy for cough I guess. You shoulda seen me trying to down this oily, pepperminty water concoction. It was the nastiest thing I've ever drank but it stopped my cough for several hours! And, no, it didn't make me drunk-unfortunately.

Back to serious stuff. I've mentioned on several occasions that PC service is an emotional roller coaster. There is an infamously low point that comes around the one year mark and I think I'm there, albeit a few months early. Can you believe I've been here for almost a year? I'm having a hard time giving people the benefit of the doubt. I'm having a hard time dealing with people who not only don't acknowledge my sacrifice to be here, but also insist that I'm rich. I'm having a hard time dealing with the hypocrisy that exists here, i.e. you're going to hell because you're not a good Christian like me, now let me go and have sex with my 4 boyfriends. So that's where I'm at right now. How do I help people that don't want to be helped? How do I convince my brain that these people even deserve help?

Good news: I'M GOING ON VACATION ON TUESDAY!!! I'm going up to the Okavango Delta to camp at a Backpackers for 5 days. Diane has been to this exact place and she LOVED it. The Backpackers is teeming with Americans and Europeans visiting Botswana for wildlife viewing. While there I'm going to go horseback riding, learn to weave a basket, and go on a boat safari. I am so excited. I'm hoping that this little break will bring me back up on top of the roller coaster.

My plan of action for when I come home from vacation: I'm going to focus more on activities with my kids. Kids are truly innocent and blameless and they are the only people that ever thank me for anything. I think that I will feel a lot more fulfilled in my service if I spend more time on kids and less time on adults. The King's Foundation, an NGO, is coming to my school on the 28th of May. They are training the teachers (supposedly) on the use of this amazing thing they are giving us called a base pack. It is a backpack FULL of things to play with. Balls and hoops and even one of those amazing parachutes that we played with in elementary school. I'm thinking that I can use this base pack to play with kids and teach them life skills, i.e. respect, self-image, teamwork.

Last thing (sorry that this has become the most disjointed email in history). My friend, Marshall, is coming here as a volunteer in August. CAN'T WAIT! We talk via whatsapp all the time and last night he commented that PC service transforms you. I've been thinking about that all night. How does it transform you? Is it the self sacrifice? Is it helping people in need? It's not. It's true that living without water security gives you a whole new outlook on your life in America. But what really transforms you is you. It comes from deep inside yourself. We have so much time to sit around and think here. You can literally spend a whole evening thinking about one aspect of your former life or one thing you did or this or that. We have hours upon hours to ponder. This re-examining is what changes you. This re-examining is a process that I've come to know goes something like this:

Step 1: Think about yourself, your personality, the YOU that makes you YOU.
Step 2: Drown in self-loathing. Convince yourself that you have several personality disorders. Diagnose yourself via wikipedia.
Step 3: Get over it.
Step 4: Reinvent yourself, incorporating the lessons that you learned from Steps 1-3 to become a better person.

The last 3 weeks I was in Step 2, which is why I didn't feel like writing. I convinced myself that I had some kind of antisocial personality disorder because I didn't want to socialize with villagers (not true-we just don't have any common values.) But as of yesterday, I'm in Step 3. I'm thinking that I'll be in Step 4 by May 26th.
I've been reading a lot lately and I'm currently reading a book that I found in the volunteer book stash in the PC office: Animal Dreams by Barbara Kingsolver. I've loved Kingsolver since high school when I read The Bean Trees (and found out that she is from KY!!!) The Lacuna: awesome. Anyway, the book is about a girl who goes to medical school, then drops out during her first year of residency, two months shy of becoming a doctor. She works several dead-end jobs, including cashier at a 7-Eleven, (sound like anybody you know?) before moving back to her home town to take care of her ailing father. During her stay there she examines her life and tries to figure out how she ended up where she is. Her sister Hallie, a volunteer in Nicaragua, sends her a letter that says "You can't let your heart go bad like that, like sour milk. There's always a chance you'll want to use it later."

My goal for the next week and a half is to revive my heart, forgive the grievances that have been done to me by the teachers I work with, and accept that ignorance is an opportunity for enlightenment. I have 18 months left here and I can't spend it hating people. I can't go home to America like the Grinch, with a heart two sizes too small! And with that, namaste! Next time you hear from me I'll have seen a hippo in the wild! Get ready!