Comrade: (noun) – a friend, a colleague, or an ally
Last weekend I was fortunate enough to witness one of the greatest races ever: the Comrades Ultra Marathon, called “the ultimate human race.” An ultra marathon, run at a distance of 89km, is quite the event to see. Comrades is run between the cities of Durban and Pietermaritzburg (alternating start and finish each year), and stands as the largest AND as the oldest (began in 1921) ultra marathon. As Sue (a family friend who I am blessed to have in South Africa) and I raced around ourselves to cheer on Sue’s husband Eddy, her son Cliff, and Cliff’s friend Tim. I was astounded at the amount of encouragement both in and out of the race. Families and friends had hunkered down with meals and goodies for what could be a 12 hour race (or more, as we woke up at 2:30am to leave and arrived home around 7:30pm just in time to enjoy some Bunny Chow). Fellow runners cheered each other on during the long journey, pushing each other to keep going, one foot in front of the other until the finish line. Not usually a supporter myself, rather one running in the race, I realized how tolling it can be to be on the opposite end of the line; to be the enthusiast, the backer. You worry about how “your person” is doing; you wonder when he/she will come around the next bend; you fret over whether he/she is prepared for this and if he/she is coping well. This being said, I would like to dedicate this blog post to all of my comrades, to all of my loved ones both back in the states and in South Africa who have supported me for the last year (plus with my application process) and continue to do so as I carry on with my own journey.
First, I need to thank my Peace Corps family, my fellow volunteers. 56 of us, complete strangers at the time, met in Washington D.C. for our staging nearly 1 year ago, for our introduction to the next 26 months of our life. It seems so long ago meeting, maybe because we have come so far since that point, that introduction, or maybe because it is actually quite some time ago. We were being prepared to head off to South Africa, a new and foreign place for all of us. I suppose that is what brought us all together so quickly. Peace Corps is a rather intense endeavor, a rather big change. As the cherry on top, you are going into this experience alone (unless you are married), or so I thought. I was wrong. The 55 people surrounding me at staging, sadly some of whom have gone back to America for varying reasons, have not only become some of my best friends, but they have become my family, my home away from home, my comfort on the not so easy days. These are the people I spend Thanksgiving with (egg burritos rather than Turkey, but still quite the celebration). These are the people I call when no one else understands how trying it is to be called “legkoa” for the 10th time in one day. These are the people I share my greatest victories (no matter how small) with. I guess what brought us all together so close and so fast was the nature of Peace Corps. Despite the newness of these people, they were all that was familiar to me once landing in South Africa. I think our group bonded very strongly, fortunately. I owe this to our successes as volunteers, pushing each other forward, reminding one another to take the journey one step at a time, one day at a time, and one foot in front of the other. Thank you SA24 and the other SA classes I have met along the way.
Now, I would be remiss if I did not thank all of my wonderful friends back home. Since coming to South Africa, I have heard from friends from all the way back to elementary school, friends from high school, and friends from college, friends met through running, and friends from my rather short/varied work experience. I have been very fortunate in the friends that I have made throughout my life, and I truly treasure all of my friendships (Chibby, I hope you appreciate this reference to “Team America”). My Mom always told me that it’s all about quality, not quantity in everything that I did, including the friendships I made. Just as luck would have it for me, I have quite the number of quality friendships, friendships that I know will last a lifetime. Friends, thank you so much for your letters. My Adidas shoe box where I keep all of my letters is becoming quite heavy; I don’t think I can express how much even the shortest letter, the simplest words of encouragement mean to me. Thank you so much for your care packages, containing some of my favorite goodies from home (Reeses have never tasted so good). Thank you so much for your whatsapps, making it seem that we are not really so far away. Thank you friends, so very much.
Since arriving to South Africa, and since beginning my work in 2 primary schools and my village’s high school, I have been fortunate enough to meet and befriend many of the teachers in the schools. These teachers are my colleagues, my counterparts, and I feel that our relationships are very mutually beneficial (or at least I hope so!). Many of these teachers have been teaching longer than I have been alive, so it is fair to say they have taught me a few things. They have really helped me to find my way in a rural, South African classroom. In addition, I think that I have helped them thus far in expanding ideas on classroom instruction, classroom management, and classroom discipline. I love working with these teachers, and I respect them immensely for how much they do for the learners in the schools. Keep up the wonderful work.
While I have been in South Africa, one of the many things I have realized is how fortunate I was in the education I received, all the way from preschool to university. The American Education System is pretty darn good, not only with the resources that are available, but with the educators placed in the classrooms. So, I want to thank all of my teachers for providing me with a quality education. Thank you for fostering my love of learning, especially my love of reading and my love of writing. Thank you for always encouraging me to have my nose in a book rather than my eyes glued to the television. Even more so, thank you for being such model teachers and making me want to become a teacher, so that I could impact students the way you impacted me. Without you, I would not be where I am today, and for that, I am forever grateful.
I need to thank all of my learners in South Africa, all the way from my Grade R learners to my Grade 7 learners to my high school learners (who are sometimes more difficult than the Grade R learners, who, by the way, don’t speak much English aside from “I am fine, and how are you?), to my ABET learners. I feel very lucky to be able to work with such a range of learners, such a range of individuals. Working with so many ages and so many people has really helped me to connect to everyone in the village. Despite the different levels that I work with on a day to day basis, they all share one thing: the desire to learn. This warms my heart as a teacher. It is my learners who make even the toughest days worthwhile. It is my learners who always manage to bring a smile to my face.
Next, I want to thank my family in America – all of my aunts, my uncles, my cousins, my nephews (Johnny, Shane, and Benjamin – our newest family edition), and my Grandmom West. Thank you for being so supportive of me. I feel quite auspicious to have such a close and loving extended family. Holidays are always so much fun, because literally everyone is there, something that I miss dearly. Continue to stay close, and continue to grow. I look forward to the holidays after service.
To my families in South Africa, thank you for taking me in so willingly and showing me the real meaning of ubuntu from the very beginning. First, thank you to my first host family during our 2 months of training. Thank you for showing me all of the ropes in South Africa – from sticking with me as I learned the ins and outs of bucket bathing, to teaching me how to cook, to introducing me to the wonder that is magwinya, to familiarizing me with South African culture and language. Thank you for not kicking me out on my behind when I lost my only key or when the dog I brought home ate your chickens. When I first arrived to South Africa, I felt like a fish straight out of water. Thank you for helping me to find my legs. Second, thank you to my current family who I am lucky enough to spend 2 years with. Thank you Maggie and Tumelo for teaching me how to hand wash my clothes when I finally found myself without the luxury of a washing machine. Thank you for introducing me to the village as “Naledi,” and not as “legkoa.” Thank you for getting me hooked on “Generations.” More than anything though, thank you for making me a member of the family. Last, but certainly not least, I want to thank my home away from home family - the Beddy family. By the strangest of coincidences, Sue Beddy had been an exchange student in America when she was in high school, meeting my Aunt Renee. Years later, Sue and her family continuously open their hearts and home to me and my fellow PCV’s, sharing the joys of a shower, 2 adorable dogs, amazing runs, and yet another look into the different, but wonderful cultures of South Africa.
Siblings – they can certainly drive you crazy, but they can also be your best friends. They love you unconditionally. They know you sometimes better than you know yourself which again, may drive you crazy. For those of you who know my family, I have quite the family tree. Functionally dysfunctional, we like to call ourselves. In total there are 7 of us. I have a younger full sister (Erin or “Erny”), an older half sister (Jeannine), an older half brother (Dave), an older step sister (Kim), and two older step brothers (John and Chris). Despite the labels – “half,” “step,” “full” – they are all my siblings through thick and thin. We have all been through good times, and not so good times. It is because of my siblings that I am still standing after those not so good times. We lean on one another as a unit. My siblings are so supportive, and I really don’t know what I’d do without them. Thank you Erin (& Andrew), Jeannine (& Elliot, Benjamin, and Lola), Dave (& Michelle), Kim (& Jim), John (& Maggie, Johnny, and Shane), and Chris.
When Peace Corps training began, I marked one important date in my moleskine – site announcements. Finding out where I would be living and working for the next 2 years was both exciting and nerve wrecking. Well, I’ve been in my village for about 10 months now, and I love it. I love the roosters that wake me at 4am, I love the goats and their kids, I love the cows that I pass every morning on my way to school, I love the shops that sell cold drink and freshly baked bread, I love the sunrises and the sunsets, and I love hearing “Naledi! Naledi!” as the kids spot me walking by. Thank you to my entire village, thank you to the whole community in my village, for making my experience a positive one thus far.
I always think it is a good idea to save the best for last. Heck, that’s why dessert is the last meal in the day, isn’t it (yes, I do count dessert as a meal)? My biggest thanks would have to go to my parents – Pammycakes and Jack. I can still remember bringing up the idea of joining the Peace Corps to my Mom as I stood in my studio apartment overlooking the Charles, and hearing only silence on the other end of the phone for what seemed like a century. Nevertheless, here I am, typing away in my rondavel overlooking the pit latrine. I never realized the definition of being selfless until a few years back, but it is from them, my parents, where I learned what it truly means to be selfless. Selflessness is making sure that others are happy and doing everything in your power to ensure that happiness. My parents do that day in and day out for all of us. Thanks Mom and Dad for always putting us first. One day I hope to give back at least a fraction of what you have given to me.
Comrades, I understand that it was my choice to go into the Peace Corps, and not yours. Even though you may have preferred that I not move to another continent, you were there to cheer me on and continue to be there for me. Thanks for being my biggest supporters, my greatest fans. Thanks for not telling me to come home on the days that I vent to you, but rather for telling me to hang in there. One day I promise that I’ll be on the sideline for you in whatever endeavor you choose to tackle. For now, though, all I can say is that I love the intensity of being in the race.
Ke a leboga kudu!
Le rata,
Meg J
