“Tears
are the noble language of eyes, and when true love of words is destitute. The
eye by tears speak, while the tongue is mute.”
― Robert Herrick
― Robert Herrick
A little over two years ago, I wrote my first blog
post. It was right before I left for
staging in D.C. and right after I had said the majority of my goodbyes. In it, I wrote that “saying goodbye is never
an easy thing.” I still stand by this
statement, maybe even more so now than before.
A little over two years ago, the train conductor, a total stranger,
performed the first of many acts of Ubuntu that I would experience over the
next two years. Seeing our tears and prolonged
hugs, he allowed my parents to take me down to my train where we would need to
part as I started my journey to South Africa...
Two years later…My Peace Corps Service has been one of the
most incredible, life changing experiences.
I’ve met people who will stay with me forever. I’ve learned more about teaching and more
about myself than I ever thought possible. I’ve been given the opportunity to travel to
some of the most beautiful places in South Africa. I can’t believe that it is over. There were tough times and days that I never
thought it was going to end, sure, but the good times definitely outweighed
them. I never imagined that this part of
my service would be the hardest…saying my goodbyes. Saying goodbye to my village and my schools
was one of the most difficult things I’ve ever had to do. Two years ago, we were strangers. Now we are sisters, neighbors, friends,
colleagues, family. Everyone I’ve grown
to come to know and love I’ve had to say my farewells to. These are the people who took me into their community,
and made me a part of them. They are,
and always will be a part of me. I am
forever grateful.
You know, it’s interesting how things always seem to come
full circle. Over the school holiday in
July, Nick and I traveled to our PST training site to say farewell to our host
families from our first two months in country.
We both wanted to see the people who took us in from the very beginning
once more before setting off for America.
During my weekend with my host family I realized how far I have come in
just two years. Silly things like not
having toilet paper didn’t bother me anymore – use newspaper. Situations I used to find awkward
weren’t. I didn’t mind writing to my
host family’s church thanking them for all they had done for me, because I knew
it meant a lot to my host mother. I even
found it humorous as the kids gawked over Nick’s arm hair. I couldn’t have asked for a better
weekend. I spent the first day with my
host niece and nephew trying to keep them occupied with playing cards and drawing
(back to the days of babysitting), the first evening eating dinner and watching
“Teen Mom” with my host sisters telling them I hope I don’t ever see them on
the show, the next day with the entire family watching my host brother’s
wedding video (albeit for an entire 24 hours), and the rest of the time just
reminiscing on my first days and weeks in South Africa. Tears sprang to my eyes as I noticed the
enlarged picture of the Charles River framed on their wall – “Boston
University, U.S.A.” they had typed. More
tears came when looking at my host brother’s wedding album and wedding video where
I saw Nick and I highlighted in both more than once. These people have become my family and being
with them was so nice. I’ve realized
that I’ll always be a part of their family as they will be mine no matter the
time or the distance.
The last week in my village, I tried to soak up everything I
could. I seemed to cry at the slightest
thing as I realized I only had days left in what had become my home, my community
during my time here. I tried to memorize
the sunset as I washed my dishes. I
tried to really feel the ground beneath my feet as I did my final runs in the
village. I tried to listen to the
roosters and donkeys just once more…they made sure they were heard at every
hour between 10pm and 6am.
As I packed up my rondavel and said goodbye to a lot of my things (I can’t get over how much stuff I accumulated during my time here!), I
also said goodbye to my 8-legged roommates.
I said goodbye to my faithful pee bucket and my bucket bath. I’m hopeful that I’ll have a toilet and a shower
in America. I said goodbye to the dust
in my room and my handmade book shelf. I
said goodbye to my lifesaving fan and my fridge that was held together by
Band-Aids. Daddy long-legs and company,
I’m sorry to say, I won’t miss you too much.
Thank you for staying on my walls and never climbing into my bed…at least not that I
know of.
The toughest goodbyes came on the day that I left my
village. Just yesterday,
I said goodbye to my village and my two schools, Lekgwareng Primary and
Ndzhovela Primary. Tears flowed like a
faucet as I hugged my colleagues, my host family, my neighbors, my best
friends, and my students. Tears flowed
as I gave Rhulani one last kiss and hug, as she looked on confused by the scene
of departure around her. Tears even
flowed as I pet Jack, my faithful running companion one last time. It was the first time in my stay here that I
saw tears flow from the people in my village which made me cry all the
more. I was lucky to have Sue and Eddie
(two more people I do not want to say goodbye to), two of the kindest human
beings I know, who were incredibly thoughtful to travel to my village, see
where my home was, and take me to Pretoria for all of my closing
appointments. Things would have been
much more emotional, and much, much more uncomfortable, had I had to cram into a taxi for 6+
hours following my farewells.
As I’ve said my goodbyes, I’ve reflected quite a lot on my
time here. In our Peace Corps “life-cycle
charts,” it explains that feelings of uncertainty will arise during this time. This and many other emotions have come up
over the past few weeks. I’m on the
emotional roller coaster – excitement, sadness, uncertainty, nervousness,
stress, worry. You name it; I’m sure
I’ve felt it or will. I wonder, have I
done enough during my time here? Could I
have done more? When I signed up for the
Peace Corps and when I first met my community and schools, I had grandiose
visions, as do many incoming volunteers.
I was going to change the school system here and turn everything around
completely. I was going to move
mountains if it killed me. Everyone was
going to like me and become motivated.
If only I had magical powers and a wand…These expectations soon changed
and I, as well as my goals, became more realistic. I’d do what I could and I’d help who wanted
help. A few people helped me as I came
to terms with my readjusted vision. I am
only one person, after all. I’d like to
think I’ve done some good in my time here.
Among my proudest accomplishments include the relationships I’ve formed
with my host family and other members of the village, the teachers and students
I’ve helped, the Library I helped to create, the Scouts Troop I established,
the camps I held for my kids, and the other volunteers I’ve helped to train. Can I go home happy with this? Yes.
Is there still work to do?
Yes. But, it’s time to pass the
baton.
More than anything and something I never really expected
when I signed up to do Peace Corps, I think I have gained the most from my time
here. I’ve grown a lot since I first
stepped off of the airplane in Joburg. I’ve
met amazing people who will stay with me forever: other PCV’s, people I’ve
worked with, people in my community.
I’ve learned two different languages and I’ve become conversational in
both. I’ve learned about different
cultures, and I’ve had the opportunity to become a part of a culture and a new
community. I’ve eaten with my hands and
I’ve gone termite picking (those things bite!).
I’ve eaten bugs and worms and I’ve become a rather good cook so I don’t
need to eat them on a regular basis. I’ve
learned kindness like no other, when someone without floors or beds gives you
your favorite fruit just because they know you like it. I’ve learned what it means to be humble. I’ve found that it’s much better to give than
to receive. I’ve learned so much about
myself and the world around me. I’ve had
the chance to run into a South African sunrise and to read a book while
watching a South African sunset. I’ve
had kids run up to me shouting my name just because they’re excited to see me;
I’ll never forget “Meghanee!!”. If that
doesn’t bring a smile to your face, I don’t know what will. I’ve learned to appreciate the small things
in life and the beauty of simplicity.
I’ve realized just how wonderful hot showers are and how I can’t wait to
take one every day. I’ve realized just
how much I love my family and friends, and how I can’t wait to be with them again and only a
drive away (7 hours isn’t too bad). I’ve
realized that people are more alike than different, and that if we look to the
similarities rather than the differences, we’d be much better off. I’ve learned how blessed I am with the family
and country I was born into. Being a
female in America is more than I could have ever asked for. Top that off with a great education system
and a really good government (go Obama!); I’d say I couldn’t be any
luckier. I’ve gained lifelong friends
both through the Peace Corps and my community.
Heck, I’ve met the love of my life.
I made out pretty well.
Earlier this week, I was told terrible news. My best friend Sylvia informed me that one of
the grade 6 learners at my school, one of my Scouts, passed away in a car
accident along with her Mother and her younger brother. Shock, disbelief, anger, and sadness overcame
me. During my last few days in the
village, this got me thinking quite a lot about “goodbyes.” While some goodbyes are final and don’t even
allow for a farewell, such as Mahlatse’s, others are not absolute. My goodbyes, I hope, are not forever. I’ve promised myself and those I love that I
will come back in a few years once I’ve saved enough. Sure I will miss my family and friends here,
but I’ll be back. It isn’t goodbye,
really. It’s just, I’ll see you later.
If it’s okay with you, dear readers, I’d prefer not to end
on a sad note. This will not be a
“goodbye” post. During my time here,
I’ve realized how much I enjoy writing. It’s
therapeutic and I’ve been told that some people enjoy reading what I
write. So, be excited, the blog will
continue. I hope the reading will
continue too. I’ll continue writing as I
continue on with my adventures and as I re-integrate into American life. I fly out of South Africa on July 20th
and land in Philadelphia on July 21st. I’ll be home for 2 weeks before packing the
bug, my faithful Babs, and moving to North Carolina on August 5th. I will be teaching Grade 12 English and I
couldn’t be more excited. I’m hopeful
that I won’t need to write anymore stories about pit latrines or bugs bigger
than my hand, but I’m sure I’ll find some things to write about.
Turn your radios up everyone, because it’s going to be a Party in the
USA when I’m home and I can’t wait to give you all hugs and kisses, and say
HELLO!
See you soon America.
Love,
Meg :)
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