It's been a while...

...you would think I was in southern Africa or something!

You would also think that after over a dozen inquiries into why my blog has been silent since December I would have finally updated it, but apparently it took an email from a random unknown individual in Oregon expressing his nostalgia for an update for me to mobilize and write again. So we thank you, Random Unknown Individual in Oregon, for your readership and mobilizing email. It’s amazing how these things get found, passed around, etc.

Anyway, the reasons for the brief hiatus are at least three fold: one, the holiday season kept me away and, like most habits (at least the healthy ones), staying away is easier than going back. Secondly, nothing has really happened since December… or should I say nothing of significance? Or should I say nothing of what seems like significance? Finally, sometimes it’s just a thorn in my side 

But anyway here we are. And for those of you who sincerely missed my blog for the past two months, you’re likely to feel satisfied as I am in the mood to make this a long one.

The holidays were spent very low key, mostly around my village and some small time in Francistown, enjoying the luxuries of “urban” life. I really did nothing exciting. My son is still coming every morning, like clockwork, and we have breakfast together. There isn’t a morning that passes that I am not thankful for him. He is such a great way to start the day. He’s grown so much the past 6 months; in part I am sure to the excessive amount of calories I shove down his throat every morning. For those of you who have kids or who want them, I don’t know how you do it. This kid isn’t even my blood, yet watching him grow up pierces me with this twisted pain/pleasure combination that I can’t describe. It’s like you want them to stay that young and innocent forever but you’re also so happy and thankful to see them growing into something they weren’t when you first knew them. He’s learned so much from me, and me from him, and that is really remarkable to witness. He’s significantly less vacant and much more vibrant. But at the same time… ouch, ouch, ouch. Soon he will be so big I wont even be able to carry him to school anymore. And very soon after that, he will be a grown adult in the middle of a very difficult environment, where the bad choices of a generation create cycles of poverty that reproduce a generation that will make bad choices.

On a lighter note, my mother and little sister came to visit me just a few weeks ago! We rented a car (thank God; I missed driving) and spent the first few days in Moleps, where I trained, meeting the host family and some other colleagues of mine who are serving in surrounding areas. It was really nice for my two moms to meet! My real mom (and my favorite one, don’t worry SK…) brought gifts that were certainly enjoyed. Then we spent a few days in my village, where they saw my day-to-day and met my co-workers. I think a few days here was enough haha. It’s interesting because I have become accustomed to such a slow pace of life, which is not at all me in the US. I am a “gas ass,” in the words of my mother, and am always going here and there. But in Africa you learn how to sit still, and how to do nothing without feeling guilty about it, and those lessons take a lot of time. You see, in the US our value is defined by our productivity – if you aren’t producing, you’re useless (i.e. you’re fired). This is logical and acceptable in terms of our intense capitalism, which is a system inherently dependent on growth for survival. However, the problem is this mentality seeps into our mindset as people and we begin to define ourselves by what we do rather than who are are, and you don’t realize things like this until you’re in environments such as these. It’s taken me the whole 10 months I’ve been here to realize why the heck I constantly feel so down: I am under-producing and judging myself for it. And the real irony is, I am the only one noticing. But the fact is, systems are different here, work is different here, time is different here, standards are different here, etc. – and therefore one’s mindset must be too. It takes a lot adjusting, a heck of a lot of patience, a good bit of understanding, and a whole lot of humility.

Anyway, so having two American-mode Americans come and visit an African-mode American was quite exhausting for me, and I think at times very boring for them. Thankfully, once the restlessness set in, we were off to Kasane (KAH-SAH-NEE), which is in the very northeastern part of the country and known for it’s prevalent wildlife. On the road we saw several elephants and some giraffes. (I think a direct quote from my mother, as I was driving 70 mph, was “Giraffes, HOLY SHIT!!!” following by me safely slamming the breaks for a photo op… pictures coming soon, by the way).

Kasane was just breathtaking. We enjoyed a lovely boat ride on the river our first evening where we saw dozens of hippos, baboons, khudu, impala, some crocs, and at least 70 elephants scattered about – eating, bathing, etc. The weather was fabulous and the setting sun and the sky were both indescribable. It was really one of the moments where you’d have be a complete ass to complain about anything; life was just at it’s best on that boat, and moments like that make me wonder why I ever think of leaving this continent (sorry Mom, I know that was not what you were hoping to get out of the ride).

The next day we trekked to Victoria Falls, one of the 7 natural wonders of the world. It wasn’t the best time of the year to do so, as the volume of water was at its highest being the end of the rainy season, making the mist from the falls so intense that you could hardly see the falls themselves. This, coupled with periodic drizzle from the sky, made it feel like it was raining from both above and below (I was reminded of Forest Gump when he is serving in Vietnam and comments on the rain coming from both directions). Consequently the three of us were thoroughly soaked, despite our raincoats (pictures of that, coming soon too). But we had a great time and I think we managed to snap a few decent photos while still preserving the integrity of our cameras. Thank God for plastic bags. We were certainly able to see enough to digest the magnitude of the falls, and hopefully I will have a chance to go back on a sunnier day to see them again. It’s not the drop of the falls that is so remarkable, but for how long they actually extend. It just goes on, and on, and on. Google Image: ‘Victoria Falls’ and you will see for yourself.

So the visit was a success and I’ll look forward to my father and other sister coming at some point late this year.

Meanwhile, I have some news regarding my housing. Since I live in government housing, I am technically ‘entitled’ to a geyser (American translation: hot water heater) in my house free of charge. So I have spent the last 6 months hassling the district on a weekly basis to come and install one for me. It took three months for someone to come and fit it to the wall (they attach them to the wall here), and an additional 3 months to convince them to send an electrician to connect it. Apparently they prefer to train people to do one small task rather than have a do-it-all task force. Excellent. Anyway, the geyser arrived and I was FINALLY enjoying hot water, which is one of the things I always miss most when away from the US. Alas, I felt as if I was content with my living situation – it’s modest, yes, but certainly comfortable now and still well above average when compared to my neighbors. So the next day I go to the clinic and my supervisor tells me, “Kagiso, you are being evicted.” Thaaaaaanks. Sure enough, our ARV clinic opening in March 2008 (which it never did) caused the district to hire 4 extra nurses. I guess “if you build it, they will come” may be true, so long as “build” doesn’t mean “finish”. Anyway, all of the nurses are to live in government housing on the clinic compound so that they are close to the clinic on nights when they are on-call. This is indeed very good logic, I just wish this had transpired a few weeks before I did the Macarena in my newly hot shower. And apparently someone was going to come to my house by the weekend and so my departure was to be soon. Sometimes you feel like nothing good happens fast here but everything bad happens before you’re ready… and in all honesty that’s something you grow to love.

So my supervisor – whom I adore, might I add – had three houses lined up for us to go and see. Impressed with her planning, but slightly offended at being left out of the process, we hopped in the vehicle and went to look at Potential Future Home #1. The house was made of 4 concrete walls, with a concrete floor, and while I didn’t notice – I’d wager that it had a concrete ceiling too. There was a hole in the floor where a toilet might have been or may go later, a pipe with running water outside, and that’s it. I think there may have been a window or two. While this is actually what I pictured when applying to the Peace Corps, when one was just blessed with gift of a geyser, one does not want to be pooing in a shallow hole next to where one eats. (Isn’t there a proverb like that of some sort?) So, Potential Future Home #2: 3 rooms total, 3 external doors, all rooms connecting on the inside (like a cheap hotel). Nice windows, nice exterior… no… kitchen? Yeah. Just three empty concrete rooms and a small, attached bathroom with a toilet & bath (gasp!)… but no water. They can’t figure out why the water won’t run to the house. So the first house had water (outside) but no toilet, the second house had a toilet but no water. I was beginning to feel like I was in the game Clue and was looking for one more piece to the puzzle of why this could not get any funnier. So, Potential Future Home #3: we didn’t see it because the current inhabitant (the owner) was not around, but it’s said to be nice. He’s willing to move out but he wants to keep his computer in the house and use it at his will, because the house he would move to won’t have electricity. I would really rather not be responsible for someone else’s computer in my house, nor would I like to have my landlord keying in unexpectedly to watch God-knows-what at any hour of the day, so I was ok not seeing that one.

Feeling a bit discouraged, and already mourning the loss of my beloved geyser, I told my supervisor: “Give me two hours and I’ll find a house.” So off I went with the help of some of my boys. I met an old lady whose sister owns the house next to hers. From the back it looked big – too big, 3 bedrooms – but I did notice a geyser so I was interested. We phoned the owner (who stays in Francistown) and she agreed to reduce the rent to a reasonable price if I agreed to only use the living areas and one bedroom and allowed her to use the other two bedrooms as storage rooms that would remain locked. That seemed fair enough so she arranged for me to go and see the interior the next morning. I went home and told my Zambian neighbor about it and he said, “What about the front?”. Oh… right. I got so excited about seeing a geyser that I forgot that houses have more than one wall, or at least that they should. He kindly reminded me that houses are like women: sometimes the back can be great, but it’s not until you see the front that you know what you’re getting. What a life lesson, thanks, I’ll hold on to that one. Anyway, I got anxious and went back to take a peak. WOW. If this house were a lady, I’m glad she turned around LOL. The house is surrounded by a barbed wire gate (Peace Corps will be happy) that is mostly covered by nice hedges and the yard has several beautiful trees (I think one may in fact be an orange tree). There is also a really nice front porch… I love front porches! Sure enough the old lady saw me and came over with the keys, and while I told her I was coming in the morning with my supervisor, she told me just to come and look anyway. Holy Moly. If Peace Corps has a clause on houses being too nice, mine probably is against regulation. BIG living room with black tile floors. Two chandeliers. Large kitchen with two refrigerators, microwave. Hot water. Bathtub. Fully furnished. Modern artwork on the walls. Where the heck am I? I don’t think I’m in Maitengwe anymore, Toto. And all for just barely more than the other places we were looking previously. I guess what they say is true, if you want something done right, do it yourself. I’m sure, knowing my luck, that the house will catch on fire and burn to the ground as I am writing this, but if not I think I am due for a very significant upgrade.

Then, of course, came the Peace Corps guilt:

“Kagiso, do you really need such a nice house when you were doing fine in the one you had?”

“Kagiso, how do you feel having this nice place when you’ll be surrounded by mud huts and people boiling water over outdoor fires?”

“Kagiso, why do you like such nice things?”

“Kagiso, now people are going to think you are even more rich that they already do.”

“Kagiso, Kagiso, Kagiso…”

Oh back off already, self! Denying myself black tile flooring and two chandeliers isn’t going to enable me to cure AIDS, and whether I bathe my dirty body in a hot bath or a cold bucket isn’t going to affect the work I do. So why not take advantage of a good opportunity? If anything, two chandeliers will give me better lighting under which to read client files and a hot bath is going to reduce my personal stress and increase my professional productivity during the day… right?!? The way I see it, the whole community benefits.

In all seriousness, it will be nice to be off the clinic compound. While the convenience of living there is great, I have felt fairly removed from the community. Yes, nearly everyone knows my name. But few know me, and I don’t know much about them either. Because my current neighbors are all clinic employees, they are of a different educational background and therefore enjoy a different status and lifestyle. Moving off of the compound, even if to nicer conditions, puts me in the middle of the community and my day-to-day life will be closer to them. The only downside, and it’s a serious one, is my son. His coming to my house every morning is a direct result of my house being adjacent to the orphanage. Because the new house is a good 5+ minutes away from the school in the opposite direction of his home, he is unlikely to come every morning – if even at all. That part pinches, a lot. But, in real terms, I am not far from the orphanage or his house, and am significantly closer than the other houses we looked at.

I am due to move in by 1 March, but based on how things operate here - I'll believe it when I lock my new front door.

I hope all is well at home (even though I've received enough magazines to know that it's not). But, it's not all doom and gloom. Wé're resilient people and we've bounced back from a lot before. As long as there is gas at the pumps and food on the shelves, we're ok. Don't let the media induce too much fear! They thrive on that... I realize that every time I leave the US - that we are so fear-filled, and fear-motivated. Turn off the TV & don't let it get to you!