6 Month Slump

I have to confess that I have been a total Peace Corps snob, a cocky, naive newbie. This whole time I have silently commended myself on how strong and resilient I have been with the ability to bounce back from all the set-backs thrown my way. It was only a matter of time before I came crashing down to the reality of where I am. It hit me yesterday as I started crying over my morning oatmeal, the day hadn’t even started yet! I was sitting in my kitchen, surrounded with termites slowly gnawing away at the sticks holding up my hut with the humming noise so loud I felt like they were in my ear, going over my chores and general worries for the day— how I need to wash my dishes, but it's so hot to fetch water, how many kids will show up for my program that afternoon, when will I have the time to hitch hike to the nearest fax machine 40 km away to send my urgent fax? Also, the mouse poop I found on my bed that morning was a concern, but not enough to tip me over the edge.

All it took was a text from my counterpart and translator saying she could not attend either of my programs that day. Since this has happened many times before, it should not have affected me so drastically. However, after a whole month of working completely alone and feeling as I was failing completely alone, I was fed up with another bail out. At that moment I realized how lonely I felt and how nothing in my new life could comfort me like back home could. My culture clashed so much with those of my co-workers and even those I consider my friends were not able to relate to what I am going through. My older friend, Rebeka, stopped by and saw me upset. She asked in Thimbukushu, “you are sad?” and I responded “yes I am sad." Then neither of us could communicate anything else in the other's language, so all she could do offer me a hug. That was the extend of my comforting and it helped, but it was only a quick fix.

This blog entry is not going to end with a heroic tale where I turned my bad day into a day full of productivity and enthusiasm like a super star volunteer. Instead, I bought a liter sized cool drink before 11 am and hung around with the meme's all afternoon. The day was a rude awakening reminding me that this job is not meant to be easy, there will be little fails and there will be big epic fails but then maybe the small successes in between will be more rewarding.

These are pictures of my friend, Rebeka and Felicia, who offer me hugs if they see I am upset. They are grown women who like to dress like twins! 

Every time I see them it makes me smile and I have to snap a pic because they are grown woman that dress like twins!

twins--alllll the time, sort of weird but adorable as well!

Mmmm...Carbs

I am in Africa with limited internet and I am sorry for posting multiple entries at once like a blog junkie.

When I first arrived in Kayanga in April, I was only just adjusting to a diet full of strictly non-perishable foods. At that time, I craved the rare stuff I was never going to get - peanut butter m&m's, coffee oreo ice cream, homemade chocolate chip cookies, etc. Now after I have been here 6 months, I go crazy over very unexpected stuff, like.. bread. Butter? Forget it, I go crazy. I have to stop buying bread in Rundu, my shopping town that's about 3-5 hours ride hitch hiking. I get so excited when I return to my village that I end up finishing the whole loaf in two days. I go food shopping once a month, so I should be partitioning my food items out but instead I find myself rationalizing, "yeah... its OK if I have 3 slices with every meal" or "if I just finish the loaf off now I wont crave it anymore". Other things are happening that illustrate I have been in the village a long time. For example, when a car drives into the village it is a little mix up in my day and really exciting. It's such a rarity that and I, along with all my kids, stop everything we are doing to stare at the visitor. The younger kids even chant in Thimbukushu “Car! Car! Car!” (I don’t think I will ever get to that level of excitement though.) One time it was a white person and everyone asked me that day if my family was visiting.

So with some things I am adapting to the life of the Mbukushu people, but after all this time other things still shock me. At the center I work at there is a storage room for the chairs and...that's actually the only materials we own... and anyway, the other day I was more frustrated than usual when the little kids were having trouble opening the door to put their chairs away.  Finally I exclaimed "why do they have so much trouble with this?!?" My co worker nonchalantly replied 'because they have never had to open a door with a handle before.' It makes sense, all the doors at their homes are made out of the reeds and the only other building with a door handle in the whole village is the school, but none of them are of school age yet. I have not been able to get them to correctly pronounce the word “Thursday”, but after that day's tutorial now all 47 children between the ages of 3-6 in Kayanga know how to operate a door handle. Look at this work I am doing!

the kids with their chairs!

I swear I do have a job here

I skipped the introduction part of the blog where I describe work I am here to do! I work at an all volunteer based organization called Thabita. It supports the orphans and vulnerable children in Kayanga. In the morning, I work with the lil youngsters (3-6 years) - teaching English, playing games, reading books, practice writing, and singing songs. It's a kindergarten and I am not sure how it happened, but from 8-12 Monday through Friday I am a full on kindergarten teacher. When we have funding, we are able to provide them with feedings of soft porridge, and I know that for some of them that's the only food they receive that day. About once a week I want to ripe my hair out because they won't listen, but it's hard to be mad at them when every morning they greet me the second they see me walk out of my yard yelling, “Jack-ie, Jack-ie” (like it's a chant).

In the afternoon, I devote my time and energy to the older kids. They have proven to be a lot more challenging, for different reasons, due to their insane shyness and the huge language barrier. For the past few months I have been trying and trying to get them to open up and gain some confidence speaking English. The concept of nurturing children (in the American sense) is not really practiced here. So through educational games, life skills lessons, awareness on HIV/AIDS, goal setting, good decision making, etc I am hoping to help them find their voice.

Me with the older group

What has been getting progressively better has been the dance group my friend, Peggy, and I started here. Thanks to the incredibly loud speakers that blow up the village, we stir up a ruckus every Friday at 12:30 pm. It's been a lot of fun so far and sort of essential for me to connect with the kids without having to use language. We are all able to bust out our best moves during the warm up/free style portion and I take that opportunity to dance out all my stress from that week.

As a health volunteer, I have been dibble dabbling in health sessions under the gathering tree, which I sort of love! My sister would say it's because I am a middle child and love the attention, and during the health sessions all eyes are on me, the only white person. It's a nice change of pace from working with the kids, and has been really interesting seeing people's reactions when I tell them that, for example, tying red string bracelets around the baby's arms, legs and neck is in fact not the only way to treat diarrhea.

the poster to aid in my diarrhea/nutrition session

and again the poster for malaria

malaria health session under the tree

Tula, Tula, Tula Pele

Newest updates. I recently acquired not 1, not 2 but 3 pets! The first (and the only one I like), is my dog, Tuku. Tuku is short for Tukupakerere, which means "we are one" in Thimbukushu. He is about one month old and now that he is worm and tick free he is also super cute. He follows me when I fetch water and has become my little side kick. I guess I am old news in the village, because when people see me they only yell for Tuku.

The other pets are less lovable, one rooster and one chicken named Tula and Pele (named after a song we used to sing all the time in Pre Service Training). My friend Peggy and I want to get them nice and fat then kill them for a special/any occasion. I painted their toe nails to brand them as mine. Last Saturday I lost them and had to go around asking people in Thimbukushu, “where are the chickens with the red feet??”  I feel like an idiot chasing them around and fake chirping, which is why I hate them. The other update is I started a small garden behind my hut and if it actually grows crops I will be shocked, SHOCKED. It requires me to do a whole extra trip daily to fetch water so we will see how it goes. My neighbor taught me how to make the reed fences, so I made the garden fence all by myself  in order to keep the annoying chickens out. Lastly, I chopped all my hair off. The village barber cut it in two quick snips and well under 5 minutes. It looks good?