Now, the optimist in me likes to think that just as things
that are up must come down (again, due to this thing called gravity); things
that go down must also go up. Bear with
me here. Remember, I’m no scientist.
Coming back to site after a long holiday is always, well, interesting for lack of a better word. Without question it is amazing to see
everyone in the village: your host family, the countless number of kids, the toothless
Gogo’s, the dedicated teachers, and even the plethora of wild life roaming
around. Everyone thinks that you have
disappeared or worse, have packed your bags and gone back to America. Needless to say, it was a relief to my
village when I returned. I had not gone too far.
Despite the warm hellos, it still takes a small period time, a time of readjustment,
when you come back. You’ve once again
left the luxuries of the First World (a hot shower anytime you’d like, a coffee
menu that takes you at least 5 minutes to read over and choose from, and a
flush toilet). You’ve returned to the
not-so First World, hopping back into your bucket, making only your coffee that is available
to you in your rondavel, and revisiting the fresh smells of the pit
latrine. Lucky for me, my readjustment
time is rather short-lived. Thanks to a
loving host family, and a really great village, I’ve got my readjustment time
down to one day, two days tops.
This go-around was a bit bumpier. It’s not that I wasn’t happy to be back in
the village (I was elated to see everyone again), but the first week back was rough.
I’d like to use a word that a good friend of mine from university coined to
describe my first week back – “woof,” with a capital “w.” (Pat, I’m doing my best to spread the word
all across the world!). I’m sharing the
events of this week not to depress you my dear readers, or to seek your
sympathy, but to simply show that it’s not always all roses here. This week definitely was my hardest week in
service…
To begin my week, my school principal informed me that one
of our Grade R learners (kindergarten) had passed away over the school
holiday. This immediately broke my
heart. Death is such a common occurrence
where I am staying (South Africa has the highest % of people living with HIV). You’d think I’d be desensitized to it by now,
but it still upsets me every time, especially when there is never an
explanation or a reason to the death (most of the time you hear “he was sick…”). This time was no exception. Not only was this boy far too young to go,
but over the past 6 or 7 months he had become one of my favorite smiling faces
as I practiced SOUNS with the kids. He
never failed to surprise me with his aptitude for matching symbol to sound, and
he always seemed to encourage the other learners who were discovering literacy
right by his side. The school held a
very nice memorial service at his home later that week. Seeing all of the learners from the school in
attendance, all of the teachers giving support to the learner’s family, and the
family of the learner struggling with their recent loss was not only
overwhelming to me, it was mind boggling.
I do not understand how people can go through this type of thing so
often. Day after day. It is simply not
fair, no matter how you spin it.
That was only the beginning of the week…The week continued
as I went to my other school. As the
ever chaotic “sports day” (aka kids run wild) commenced at noon, the teachers
assembled to discuss a memorial service being held for the father of one of the
teachers at the secondary school. That’s
right; there was another death in the span of one week. Once I arrived to the meeting, one of the
teachers called me by “Candice,” the old volunteer’s name. Now, I get it. I myself am not great with
names. Heck, my Mom and I have to say a
name 3 times immediately after meeting someone to have the slightest chance at
remembering it. But it still stung a bit
after having worked with this man for almost a year.
The week was almost over (it was now Thursday). As I prepared to make a cake for my friend
across the street (it was his birthday the next day), I realized I was out of a
few essential ingredients – butter and sugar.
What’s a cake without butter and sugar (“fat is flavor,” a good friend
has taught me)? Not a cake. So, I grabbed some rand and headed out for
the tuck shop. My loving companion, Butch,
happily joined Tumelo and I as we headed for the shop, wagging his tail the
entire way. It was simple enough – said
my hellos to the shop owners, bought my ingredients, and we were on our
way. On our way back from the shop,
Butch ran out in front of a car. He has
a habit of chasing cars when he runs with me (I no longer allow him to come on
my runs for this very reason), but he has never done this in the village. By the grace of God, Butch was not seriously
injured. His paw was hurt and he limped
for a few days after this close call, but he is okay. I will not be taking him anywhere without a
leash from now on.
To put the cherry on top of my week, Saturday morning called
for an early wakeup – 6am to be precise – so I could be ready in time for my 5th
funeral in South Africa (in my 22 years in the states I don’t think I have gone
to as many funerals as I have here and I have only been here for a little over
a year). Needless to say, it was not the
sleep-in, go for a run, make pancakes kind of morning that I prefer on the weekends.
Thanks to the 3 C's (Cardio, Coffee, and Chocolate) I made it through the week. I had survived what I hope is the worst of it.
I’d like to think that we can’t all be hit on the head with
apples all of the time. I mean, then
we’d just all have really bad headaches and we’d have bruised apples. That wouldn’t be any fun. I would like to propose my own law, “The Law
of Optimism” – the reverse Law of Gravity.
If Newton decided that all things that go up must go down, then all things that go down have
to go up too, hey?
So far, my new law has been verifying itself quite
nicely. In the week of “woof,” as I’ll
now refer to my low point, I ended my week the usual way – at the secondary
school on Friday. I decided to work with
the matric students on college applications as the closing date is quickly
approaching. Sure there were some “hm’s”
and “haws” at the idea of actually doing some work, but overall the kids seemed
to appreciate the help. As I was working
on the applications with the second class of matric students (they are split
into 12A and 12B) the school siren sounded, an hour early, to indicate that
school was out. I expected chairs to
fly, papers to scatter, and learners to flee into the freedom that is the
weekend, but none of that happened. To
my great delight and my great surprise, I had 6 matric boys stay for an hour after
school ended working on their applications.
While 6 might not seem like a huge number, those 6 showed me that there
was a turn in the tides. Things were
looking up.
This second week at site has continued to validate my new law. At one of my schools, the teachers are more
enthusiastic than ever. I am working
with one of the Grade 7 teachers to begin our preparations for the Grade 7
Farewell Celebration in November (the learners will move to grade 8, i.e. secondary school,
in January). Our garden continues to
flourish, and my counterpart attends to it as it was his own child. We have just recently planted tomatoes, and
our spinach is coming in quite nicely. I
have started the World Map, and am very excited about this project. At the other school, my classes are going
very well. My counterpart teacher has
started helping me in the classroom, and another one of the teachers expressed
an interest in having the World Map drawn at our school after learning that I
was doing it at the other. Another PCV
and I recently completed and submitted a grant to have a girls’ HIV/AIDS
empowerment camp at the end of August. We are holding thumbs that it gets approved! Overall, a very good week.
All I can say is watch out Newton, because there’s a new
scientist in town.
I would
like to dedicate this blog post to Life Mabunda, the Grade R learner who recently
passed away. Tragic events such as the
loss of Life make me realize just how incredibly lucky I am. Yes, sometimes life is not always easy. Sometimes there are rough days, such as the week I described above. Sometimes I complain about the small stuff
(missing Starbucks, having dust everywhere, and sharing my rondavel with bugs
bigger than my hand). But, I have a lot
on my plate and I need to live life to the fullest. I need to get over the small stuff, and look
at the big picture. I say we all go out
and celebrate life for Life.
Le Rata,
Meg :) 
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