I'm back!

Wow, I didn't mean to not blog for almost 2 years. So, same blog, but new adventures.

In a nutshell...

I completed Peace Corps and went to Mozambique for a week!

Then I came home, saw lots of family, and enjoyed the holidays in the states.

Babs and I went to Williamsburg right before New Years.

Then I became interim youth director at my church, and got to hang out with lots of fun teens for most of 2015.

After I finished that job, I took a roadtrip down to Tennessee and Atlanta, to see friends and family.

I also went with friends to Frank Beamer's last football game at UVA.

We got a LOT of snow in January of this year. 

I also started being more of a bird nerd and photographing birds.

Karen and I and a few hundred thousand of our closest friends went to see the cherry blossoms on the national mall.

I went to the National Zoo a few times this spring, and PANDAS!

My church went on a mission trip to Charleston, SC and I got to help lay some floors.

I visited Bryce Canyon National Park and Zion (pictured) National Park with friends.

I also went white water rafting down the grand canyon again. 

And now I have a job! I'm a project coordinator for a public health project in Malawi with a cool public health/international development company in Maryland.

So, more adventures coming, and I'll back-blog on some of these and other things from the past 2 years as well. 

The last few weeks

The last two weeks or so of my service have been kind of crazy, between exams coming up this school term, saying goodbye, and all of the logistics of completing my service and time in Botswana.

The logistics of leaving included cleaning the entire house, taking everything off the walls, packing, figuring out what to keep and what to give away (the women’s shelter in Gabs got a large donation, as did a volunteer a few villages away), burning a large pile of paper that wasn’t going with me, closing bank and phone accounts, and getting a lot of things signed at the Peace Corps office to be official.

Saying goodbye to the village involved several trips around to find the chief, the primary school teachers, the police, the clinic staff, and a friend that I found out is currently living in Gabs. I didn’t find everyone, but I found most people, and left word with them to tell the ones I missed goodbye. I also tried to explain to my neighbors that I was going, and to their kids that play in my yard. I gave a few pieces of clothing to the adults and a lot of tin cans and egg cartons to the kids. I didn’t want to give away too many things because there is a new volunteer immediately replacing me, and I don’t want people asking her for lots of things because of me.

Saying goodbye and finishing up projects at school bumped into testing and craziness. At the end of September the form 1 and 2 students took end of month tests, and the form 3s took mock form 3 exams, all at the same time. I got permission from the school administration to add a 1 hour guidance and counseling exam to this stack of tests, so I could try and measure what I taught my students over the past year, and be able to report some of those numbers to my school and Peace Corps. This was a good idea in theory, except the testing fell partially over the Botswana independence day celebrations, and there were several school days with few teaches and students (that’s another special story for another day). So my test got bumped almost 2 weeks, leaving me a week to grade 700 tests instead of the 3 weeks I had planned. I got my classes and 3 others graded, and left my counterpart with 6 classes ungraded to do whatever she liked with them.

I was also saying goodbye to the students, letting them do a question session for their last class, and taking pictures with them at the end of study period one day (pics in my last post). This was time consuming all around, but I was glad to be able to a) say goodbye to the students and give each class a picture b) answer any questions they had about me, America, the class, sex, condoms, etc. and c) give them their exams back, and go over with each class the body fluids that can transmit HIV, since EVERY STUDENT got that question wrong on the test. It gave me and hopefully them some closure from our classes and my time with them these last two years. I also gave a final post test to the GLOW girls that went to our last camp, and gave them pictures from that as well, and gave them hugs and encouragement in the next steps in their lives.

Saying goodbye to the teachers, the people I’ve made the closest friends with in my village, was harderst. I printed some pictures for them, gave a few gifts, and collected lots of email addresses. The Thursday night before I left they gave me a going away braii that I posted about previously. 

Wednesday we left my village at 4:30 in the morning, in the dark, like I came. It’s still surreal to think I won’t be going back. I’m sad to leave my village, and I have lots of complicated feelings about what I was and wasn’t able to do, but I’m also proud of what I accomplished. I have good friends I hope to keep in touch with. I’m also excited to be going home soon, to finish my service, and ready for my next step in life, whatever that winds up being. 

Maybe

Maybe it’s okay that I’m not one of those volunteers that completely fell in love with the neighborhood children.

Maybe it’s okay that some days I preferred goats over children. Maybe it’s okay that happened most days.

Maybe it’s okay that I tried to do as much as my sanity allowed with them, like letting them in my yard frequently to play, and sometimes playing with them. Maybe the fact that I didn’t let them inside my house isn’t the end of the world.

Maybe it’s okay that even though I didn’t learn all of their names, I learned some.

Maybe it’s okay that I never gave them candy, but I did give them time. And water. And tin cans.

Maybe it’s okay that I didn’t let them in my yard 24/7. Maybe it’s okay that I hid from them occasionally, rather than yelling at them if I wasn’t up to kids that day.

Maybe it’s okay that I yelled at them a more than few times. Maybe it was the first time someone had given them boundaries like, ‘you can only come at this time’ or ‘don’t throw rocks at my house’. 

Maybe it was good for me that even after I yelled at them, they still came back to play.

Maybe it’s okay that most of them won’t remember me very well because they are too young. Maybe it’s okay that they’ll probably confuse me with other volunteers that have lived and will live in this village.

Maybe it’s okay that I didn’t satisfy their need for attention, because it might not actually be satisfiable. Maybe it’s okay that I made a dent.

Maybe they didn’t learn a lot of English at my house, but maybe they learned some. Maybe they learned even more than the funny looking foreign lady liked them.

Maybe it’s okay that I have conflicting emotions over these kids; I love them and they frustrate me and wear me out. Maybe that’s how parents feel a lot.

Maybe it’s okay that I’m not going to miss the stress of small fists banging on my door. Maybe it’s okay that I will miss those smiles, and shouts of ‘Lesego? Lesego! LESEGO!’

Maybe time is more important than new words, skills, or tokens.

Maybe I did enough for them even if it doesn’t feel like it.  

Maybe.

6 weeks

I have 6 weeks left of my Peace Corps service. That's just weird. I realized I haven't posted much lately; it's not that I don't have things whirling around my head, it's just that most of those things are complicated and best left for my private journal at this point. When I distill some of those thoughts, I'll post them here eventually. Nothing bad, just all the feels.

I've had a busy few months, and I feel like I haven't been in my village very much. In July I went on 2 weeks vacation with some friends from the States. Came back for a few days, and then went to the capital for my group's Close of Service Conference. Then I came back for a few days, and went BACK to the capital trying to finish the paperwork for the grant I applied for 6 months ago for our May GLOW camp. Then I went to a friend's Harry Potter birthday party and geeked out, which was awesome. Was back for a few days, and then went on vacation to see some friends in the west part of the country. Came back for a few days, and went to the capital AGAIN for close of service medical appointments and then jetted up to help at the Pre Service Training for the new group of volunteers in Serowe. Now I'm back and will actually spend the rest of my service in my village, aside from probably one or two more trips to my shopping village for food and errands.

When I get good internet again, I'll try and post a few pics from both vacations; baby animals and salt pans and friends :) Lately I've been letting other people take the pictures and just letting myself be in the moment. I tend to want to photograph all of the things, but I'm learning that sometimes it's better to just take mental snapshots and/or let others take the pictures.

So these days I'm just soaking up time in my village, teaching classes and trying to figure out how to say goodbye to those I spend time with, whether in conversation or sharing hula hoops. I'm in a good place; happy to be going home, but also happy to enjoy another few weeks in my little slice of the Kalahari.

Fall in the Kalagari

It's fall in Botswana. You wouldn't necessarily know just by looking; there are no colorful leaves on maple trees, or pumpkins carved outside of huts. Fall here doesn't mean that Christmas is just around the corner.
Fall in Botswana is the rains gradually letting up and nights becoming cooler. It's realizing that walking across the village in the middle of the day wasn't as hot as usual; maybe summer is waning. Visually everything looks the same; the rains were so heavy this year that my village is still completely green, and I hope that means that there are good crops and healthy animals this year. People's livelihoods depend on it.

Fall means change. Changes in the weather, and changes for me. I'm realizing that whether or not I admit it, I'm in the final stretch of my service. There are two and a half weeks left of school this term, and the students spend most of that testing. I'll be busy coordinating the logistics for a big camp in the middle of May during the school break. Hopefully going on vacation afterwards, and June brings the second term of school. I have two friends visiting at the end of June, and a week after they leave my group has our close of service conference in July. One more school break in August, and two to three* more months of teaching and living here, and I am finished. Hopefully travelling for a month or two before I return stateside in time for Christmas.

I write this, but it hasn't sunk in yet. Six to seven months still seems like a fairly long time, although not nearly as long as I've been here, which is nineteen months and counting. I'm still in a good place, which is happy where I am, and also happy that time hasn't stopped; it's still nice to know that each week and month I live here is also one week or month closer to being home again. But I've also been trying very hard to mentally be here, and not continually wishing myself home. That's not to say I've never homesick, and the changing of seasons brings that on the most, because I think of fall on the east coast, and the holidays, and it's the time of year that it feels the least like Africa here. I've been trying to keep busy, and I feel like the next few months are going to be even busier. While I'm not a huge fan of the PC policy of lock down** for the last few months at site, I think I will appreciate the down time to mentally prepare for returning home.

So change is in the air. I'm taking a few days to get rid of a cold that won't leave, and catching up on some reading. Since the students are testing there's nothing for me to do at school for 2 weeks. I'm enjoying the slightly drier, cooler weather, knowing that soon it will be freaking cold at night and that at least 1/3 of my waking hours will be in my sleeping bag on my computer, trying to be productive and warm at the same time. My fingers are crossed that the grant money that myself and a bunch of PCVs applied for comes in on time for the camp we've planned in a few weeks.

Fall has always been one of my favorite seasons. It's different here in Bots; Easter, for instance, instead of Halloween, but its not necessary bad different. I would still love some hot apple cider though.

*My official COS, close of service, which means end of my service, is November 14th. But there is a chance I might end a month early if another volunteer is replacing me and need my house. I'll find that out in a couple of months.

**The official PC policy is the first 3 months and the last 3 months of service are supposed to be in my village, aka not travelling or on vacation. Some people follow this policy more than others ;)

Under the Surface: Part 2

In part 1 I talked about how the treatment of children in this country is a huge problem, and really goes against the national principle of Botho on which Tswana society and Botswana is based on. I don’t think theres something inherently wrong with Batswana,  I think this is due to a severe lack of mental health awareness and services. To clarify, when I say mental health, I mean things like stress reduction and coping techniques, support systems, and counseling, as well as psychiatric services and medication.

I feel like people in this country are traumatized. Not everyone, but many, especially in rural areas. They are traumatized by lack of family support systems, systematic and cyclical physical and sexual abuse, and profound loss. There is no mental health system or even awareness of mental/emotional  health needs. Children are taught to bottle up their emotions from a young age, so people don’t deal with their feelings. I feel like what Peace Corps should be sending here above all else are mental health professionals and counselors. My working assumption is that at least half the people I interact with probably have some level of post-traumatic stress disorder from losing loved ones and/or abuse, and then having no way to work through such trauma.

I don’t think it was always like this. I’ve read and heard stories about Botswana from 50-60 years ago, and it seemed like there was more of a village culture and intact families and support systems, even though there was much more overall poverty and less development. But development changed some of that, as well as the AIDS epidemic. Half a generation was wiped out. Family structures got messed up badly. Grandparents and young teenagers were raising kids. Since ARVs have become available, the death rate from HIV has plummeted. But in some ways, the damage has been done. There is a generation traumatized from so much loss, and they are now raising children. But they haven’t really dealt with their own trauma, so it’s hard to be a good parent, let alone raise emotionally healthy kids. Lots of kids suffer from neglect, especially in the rural areas. Marriage rates are very low due to the high cost of getting married, so almost every woman I know has one or more children before getting married, if she gets married. The kids often have different fathers. This considerably messes with the traditional family structure and support system. Kids no longer have aunts and uncles helping initiate them into adulthood and explaining sexuality to them, so in most cases no one has these conversations with them. This contributes to high HIV infection and teen pregnancy rates, and the cycle continues.

I don’t want people to think I’m bashing Tswana culture, because I’m not trying to. I understand that it’s different than American culture. And I’m certainly not trying to compare it to American culture and suggest that America has everything right- I could write (and there are written) books about the societal problems in America.  In Tswana culture, men often had multiple wives, something the government is trying to discourage now. Extended family plays a big part in raising kids, and that’s been disrupted by both HIV and development with people moving around. Traditionally it seems people weren’t supposed to be overly emotional in public, but there were places they could show emotion, such as at church and funerals. They had a support network of their village and their extended family. The point is… the way this culture was, seemed to work pretty well for them. But things have changed and it’s not working well anymore.

One symptom of this I see in children and adults is emotional numbness. When you are taught to bottle up your emotions and not feel, or when so much trauma happens you don’ know how to deal with it, you start acting impassively when emotional things happen. It makes it hard to have an emotional connection in relationships. But it’s a coping mechanism to deal with further trauma. I see this when teachers at my school mention someone died, with no emotion in their voice at all. And then move onto a new topic 30 seconds later.

There aren’t easy solutions to any of this, and to suggest there are is to minimize the pain that these people have been through and are still going through.  But I really believe that the first step is talking about it. Talking about how children are treated in this country, and mental health in general. The countries that have made the most progress in their fight against HIV are the ones that acknowledged the problem existed and prepared to address it, not the ones that pretended it didn’t exist.  I think the same thing applies here.

As this relates to me, this ugly stuff under the surface is part of why it’s such an emotional roller coaster to live here. People (and Peace Corps) tell us we are so lucky to be in Botswana, they are so good at development and look at all the progress they’ve made! And that is true, and also not the whole truth. In one day I’ll teach 2 classes where kids stare and me and won’t talk, see starving dogs roam the village, watch a student get caned for some infraction, see kids having a ball playing soccer, talk with a friend about America, listen as people talk with no emotion in their voices about boys beating girls for sex, and marvel that my rural village has 2 schools, a clinic, running water, and electricity. It’s up and down, good and bad, all the time.

I want to do my part in raising awareness about the treatment of children and mental/emotional health, which is why I decided to post this. It may seem weird to combine the two, but I firmly believe that unmet mental health needs are contributing to the maltreatment of children here. These are not bad people. These are a peaceful, respectful people. These are my friends.  Hurt people hurt people.

I hope I haven’t insulted anyone by writing this, especially if they are a Motswana. But the part of the ambassador’s letter that got to me the most was the end, where she wrote “As for me, Botswana and its young people are now in my heart for good. For the rest of my life, I will be cheering you on.”

Me, too.

Under the Surface: Part 1

(I broke my original response to the ambassador’s piece into 2 parts)

I guess I should explain a bit why I posted the ambassador’s piece like I did. When I first read it… I honestly cried. On and off for about an hour, as I read and reread it in my living room. Because someone other than a Peace Corps Volunteer gets it. Or rather, publicly acknowledges it. Not everything is okay in this country. Not everything about Botswana is the success story of Africa. And it goes beyond poverty, and education, and the HIV epidemic.

And the ways in which it’s broken are under the surface. Because on the surface, Botswana IS the success story of Africa. It’s done wonderful things with its diamond money like building roads, schools, and hospitals. It’s trying to invest in social programs and also diversify its economy. It’s a peaceful people that work hard at avoiding corruption. All of this is true, and very good. But there is more to be done. When I see articles and discussions about Botswana’s future, they focus on diversifying the economy and fighting the AIDS epidemic. Those are very important and challenging tasks, and should be given a lot of time and energy. But what I see at the grassroots level is what the ambassador wrote about. The children in this country are neglected, frightened, and abused. This doesn’t really seem to get any press, yet I feel like this is by far the biggest problem to be addressed.

I’ve ranted about the ministry of education before. The ministry fails to provide adequate teachers, books, food, and basic supervision to children at school, and then blames the kids for failing.  The conditions of the boarding schools are appalling- people would be arrested in the US for keeping prisoners in these conditions.  There is rampant sexual abuse of students by teachers. Corporeal punishment is legal, and while politicians debate whether students should be caned, there are teachers and school officials literally beating the crap out of kids for things such as not having the proper uniform, which isn’t the kids fault.

Sometimes conditions are home aren’t much better, and they are harder to monitor. But I have a copy of that behavioral survey the ambassador referenced, and I’ve seen first-hand the abuse, depression, and neglect that it measured. But what gets me the most is the fear. When I teach, it’s almost like pulling teeth to get kids to talk. Teachers walk around with a stick to get kids into classrooms. That’s also how they herd goats and cattle in this country. Is it telling that animals and kids are often treated the same way? Beat them into submission? When I make eye contact with students they look away and blush or giggle, especially the girls. They have the same response to the rest of the teachers. I understand that part of Tswana culture is a deep respect for elders, and in some ways, I wish I could export some of that to America. But there is a fine line between respect and actual fear, and I see it crossed daily. Because children are scared into behaving, adults can tell them to do anything and they will. Or do anything to them and they will take it. This leads to the abuse and neglect.

Healthy Batswana children won’t look exactly like healthy American children, and some of what bothers me may indeed be cultural. But the parts that are human rights violations transcend culture and are mostly not a traditional part of this culture. I think the underlying reasons for a lot of the mistreatment of children in this country stem from unmet emotional/mental health needs, and I’ll go into that in part 2.

Please read this

Sometimes I struggle with describing what I see in Botswana, and in my village, without sounding negative, condescending, and judgmental. So too often I skip it and post pictures of goats. But a few days ago the American ambassador to Botswana, Michelle Gavin, wrote an op-ed for the Patriot, and she described Botswana, Batswana, my Peace Corps experience, and all of the conflicting emotions I've felt, and she did it much better than I ever could. It's a bit long, but please read it. (Paragraph breaks are mine.)

An Op-ed by Ambassador Gavin published in the Patriot on Sunday: Botswana’s Greatest Resource

Botswana is a magical place. Its people are warm, friendly and engaging. Its countryside is among the most beautiful in the world. And since independence, its leaders have used not just diamond wealth, but also integrity and a commitment to investing in people to build and sustain Africa’s most successful and prosperous democracy. 

For over two and a half years, I have been privileged to serve as the United States Ambassador to one of the world’s great success stories. My tenure in Botswana has reinforced my belief that this country’s potential is vast. With the right decisions and the hard work of its citizens, Botswana can continue to prosper in an increasingly globalized economy; its democracy can continue to mature: its institutions can continue to set and meet the highest standards for integrity and efficacy. I also believe that Botswana can continue to be a force for good in the world far more influential than the size of its population would suggest. 

For all of these reasons, I have devoted much of my tenure here to engaging with Botswana’s youth. Youth make up the largest segment of Botswana’s population. They represent Botswana’s potential. They are Botswana’s future. As President Obama’s representative in Botswana, one of my jobs is to translate his commitment to youth around the world and into concrete support for Botswana’s young people. My government has done, and will continue to do, a great deal. From the Peace Corp Volunteers assigned to scores of towns and villages throughout Botswana working with young people on life skills to the exchange programs that have sent Batswana youth to the United States, we are engaging with young people in Botswana and working to support them every day. My embassy has set up a Youth Advisory Council to discuss issues impacting youth. We will send 25 talented, young Batswana to the United States to participate in President Obama’s Young African Leaders Initiative. We have worked with the Government of Botswana to gather more data on the challenges young people confront. We support young entrepreneurs, and we have devoted millions of dollars to helping Botswana’s orphans and vulnerable children. 

Last week I had the privilege of interacting with hundreds of youth throughout southern Botswana, in locales as diverse as Moshupa, Mabutsane, and Sekoma, on a “Youth Listening Tour.” I heard firsthand from groups of 15-24-year-olds about their personal dreams, their aspirations for Botswana, and the challenges they face. These conversations were similar to the many other discussions I have had with Botswana’s young people over the last 30 months. In all of the exchanges, I have found that in many ways Botswana youth are like their peers everywhere in the world. They want to participate in society at a local and a global level; they want the exposure that comes with travel or attending school overseas; they want to make a difference in their communities; they want to find meaningful jobs in the private sector that allow them to save for the future and start families. 

But in addition to revealing these laudable, even inspiring, aspirations, many of my conversations with young people around this country -- and with their passionate Batswana advocates in the health, education, and social work communities -- have exposed deeply troubling problems. Girls – often very young girls – talk about relentless sexual pressure from adult men in their lives. Youth describe feelings of isolation and worthlessness; far too many feel that no adult in their lives will listen to them or take them seriously. Regardless of gender, young people often describe a violent, even hostile environment at home and at school that seems completely at odds with the peaceful, gentle culture that celebrates botho and values the contribution of each individual. 

The often painful anecdotes of young Batswana are backed up by data. Adolescent girls continue to be infected with HIV at far higher rates than their male counterparts. Stubbornly high malnutrition rates among children (13.5% of Batswana children under five are underweight; 26% are stunted) persist despite Botswana’s robust social safety nets, and those closest to the issue acknowledge that neglect is a very real part of the problem. Results from the Botswana Youth Risk Behavior Surveillance Survey of schoolchildren, funded by the U.S. Government and conducted in partnership with the Ministry of Education and Skills Development, indicated that violence is a very common presence in the lives of young people. Over one-quarter of respondents had been involved in a physical fight in the previous year that required them to seek medical treatment. 13% of sexually active students identified rape as their first sexual encounter. 

Of course, these indicators point to the need for broad social mobilization to give parents and caregivers the knowledge, skills, and support they need to ensure children are not left behind. Botswana’s schools can also play a critical role in beginning to turn some of these numbers around, but today, too often, they are part of the problem. I have heard this directly from the young people with whom I have spoken. I have also heard tales of sexual and physical abuse perpetrated by teachers and school administrators from civil society and traditional leaders. In some cases, the perpetrators were never charged and remain in their classrooms to this day. Many countries, including my own, have established and implemented policies designed to prevent violence in schools. These policies include universal school-based violence prevention education for students. They also include education for parents in order to improve parent-child communication about sensitive issues including sexual health; annual training for all school personnel; a code of conduct for all school personnel; and lastly, standard operating procedures to respond to breaches of conduct by school personnel. 

I hope the Government of Botswana will make similar policies a priority, and hold teachers and school administrators accountable for implementing them. Botswana’s schools must also provide their students with the knowledge and tools necessary to live healthy lives, and to set and achieve life goals if they are to contribute to the country’s future success. Botswana’s Life Skills program, which the United States Peace Corps supports, is designed to accomplish this, promoting positive identity and self-esteem, positive communication, decision-making and critical thinking skills, goal setting, and emotional health. But Botswana can do more to make Life Skills work for its young people, by implementing Life Skills as a standalone, testable curriculum rather than trying to infuse it into all subject areas – which too often makes Life Skills an afterthought. 

It is telling that the late Nelson Mandela devoted a great deal of his post-presidency passion and energy to children’s issues. His singular wisdom, experience, and vision led him to conclude that “there is no keener revelation of a society’s soul than the way in which it treats its children.” Children, he said “should be seen and heard as our most treasured assets. They are not ours to be used or abused but to be loved and nurtured and encouraged to engage in life to the full extent of their being, free from fear.” The truth is that too many children in Botswana are living in fear. Too many are neglected. Too many are exposed to violence or exploitation at home or at school. This issue, perhaps more than any other -- more than the scourge of HIV/AIDS, more than the difficulty of economic diversification -- imperils the future of this great country. It is entirely within Botswana’s capacity to address this threat. Doing so will require a sense of urgency; concrete, fully implemented policy initiatives; and energized partnerships among parents and caregivers, teachers and school administrators, police and social workers. The United States will be a reliable ally in these efforts. 

As for me, Botswana and its young people are now in my heart for good. For the rest of my life, I will be cheering you on.

Madiba

Being in southern Africa is a unique experience in itself. Adding to that currently being  in Gabs 20km from the South African border,  for the passing of Nelson Mandela, and it’s witnessing history.

I want to refer to him as Madiba. I realize that most of the world knows him as Nelson Mandela, but Nelson was the English name he was given in school. My Setswana name in Botswana is Lesego (Leh-say-ho), but my real given name is Mary. So I want to refer to him as Madiba, his tribal name.

I don’t remember when in my life I learned who Madiba was. I certainly was not aware of historical events going on in South Africa during my childhood- his release from prison, rioting, the end of apartheid, his election, the Nobel Peace prize. To say that he is a national and international hero, especially here in southern Africa, is an understatement. He’s an important world figure in the US. In southern Africa, he’s one of the most important people ever to live.

I feel like I don’t know as much as I should about him. I went to Cape Town last summer with my mom and Carol, and we visited the Slave museum which had exhibits on Apartheid and the South African struggle for peace and shared power. We visited an exhibit at the town hall commemorating him for his 95^th birthday which he recently had. We attempted to visit Robbin Island, but the weather was bad so the ferry was canceled. I’m currently reading Long Walk to Freedom, and I saw the movie based on it a week ago, just after he passed.

What’s interested to me is that people seem to revere the Madiba of the last 20 years, and forget parts of his life from before he went to prison. He cheated on his first wife (and might have been abusive- the movie portrayed him that way). He spearheaded the arm of the African National Congress that moved away from strictly non-violence into trying to undermine the white government by setting fire to buildings and causing damage. He and the ANC were labeled a terrorist/terrorist organization for a long time. He was a radical.

From what I know, the work that he did in his life was invaluable to South Africa in their struggle for equality and a government of shared power.  And he is known for so much of the work that he did after spending 27 years in prison. But what really stands out to me, is that he came out of prison a different person than the one that went in. He changed. He grew. He forgave people of crimes against him, his family, his friends, his people, that I can only imagine. And he realized that forgiveness was the only way.

The amount of world leaders that descended on South Africa for his funeral is tribute to the man he was, and the man he became. Some people are worried that without Mandela that South Africa is going to have renewed racial violence. The tension is still there. I hope with all of my heart that is not the case, because that is the complete opposite of what Madiba wanted. Like I said, it’s an interesting time to be only kilometers from South Africa.

Watching the movie last week, I was also struck by the amount of change that has occurred in South Africa in my lifetime. I’m only 30 years old. That gives me hope that maybe by the time I am 50 or 60, some of the other countries in Africa that are such a mess now, will have radically changed by then. As I read the headline that Mandela passed away on Friday, (Thursday night, but it was late here so I heard about it Friday morning), there was a smaller headline warning that Central African Republic could be headed for a genocide and that UN troops might be moving in.  The work is never finished.

I’m also struck by how amazing it is to live in an African country that managed to avoid such a bloody struggle for independence and equality. There are plenty of things about Botswana that drive me crazy, I’m not saying we’re perfect here. But the contrast of what Botswana is and went through and what South Africa is and went through is stark. A lot of that is that the countries started with different resources, histories, and racial tensions. But I don’t take for granted the history of peace in this country.

The ironic thing about being where I am, in the Peace Corps in Botswana, is that I’m geographically close (relatively speaking) to what is going on in South Africa, but I live in the bush so I don’t have access to a lot of media coverage of it. I can get headlines and a few news stories, and when I’m in the capital for a day or to I can see some TV.

From what I’ve seen, the services for Madiba seem peaceful, reverent, and well attended. Yes, there is always going to be crazy things to detract from the real purpose, like the sign language scandal. But it’s neat to see the world mourn and remember such a great man, and coming together in the process to do so.

Peace is what you worked for your whole life Madiba. Rest now knowing you accomplished so much for so many, and left us a shining example of how to go forward with your work.

“No one is born hating another person because of the color of his skin, or his background, or his religion. People must learn to hate, and if they can learn to hate, they can be taught to love, for love comes more naturally to the human heart than it’s opposite. “ ~ Nelson Mandela

"I love this crazy, tragic, sometimes almost magic, awful, beautiful, life"

Crazy:
- We had a thunderstorm on Wednesday afternoon that knocked the power out... and I'm pretty sure I saw sparks from when lightning hit a power pole at my school. Good things my stuff was unplugged!

Tragic:
- I saw a goat almost hang himself. He (or she) was in the back of a truck that passed us. He was tied up but jumped out and was hanging there twitching. Our whole truck starting yelling PUDI!!! (Setswana for goat) And the luckily the truck pulled over and hoisted him back in. I think he was okay, but it was terrifying to watch.

Almost magic:
- I went to a really good workshop in Gabs on Monday and Tuesday. It's called the virtue project, and it's basically a positive discipline strategy based on acknowledging virtues in people instead of pointing out failures. I really hope I can bring the concepts back to my school. In addition, I got to hang out in Gabs for a few days with friends, air conditioning, hot showers, and good food.

Awful: It's hot. And buggy. And sandy.

Beautiful: Friendships with teachers at my school. Sunsets. Letters and packages from friends back home.

Life: One more week of school, in which I'm trying to run a mini camp for like... 200 kids. Stayed tuned for how THAT turns out ;)

Mid-Service Musings

I've been reminded that it's been almost 2 months since I posted. Oops? As they say here, sooooorry.

Several milestones have passed since I last updated. September 11th marked one year since I left home. September 13th marked one year in Botswana. October 14th (ish) is my official halfway point through my time here, and in a few days, I'll have one year left in Country (November 14th, 2014 is my last day as a volunteer).

Generally, volunteers have a slump around the one-year mark. I've sort of been going in and out of a slump the last month or so, but nothing like June. I think mostly I've been happy, as in, I've made it this far! I've made it more than halfway! Woo! I can also look back on the past year and sometimes that's helpful. While I really don't feel like I've done much, when you total it up, it's not nothing.

- 2 GLOW camps

- 2 Teacher workshops

- Teaching some Form 2 and 3 classes

- Making friends with teachers at school

- Attempting clubs, and having an end of the year party for my PACT club this past week

- Working with a young woman in my village trying to help her start a small business

- Helping at a health fair in another volunteer's village

- Helped count out a lot of pills at my clinic

I've also got a lot planned for the rest of this year and next year:

- More teaching

- Compiling lesson plans to make curriculum more easily accessible for teachers and volunteers

- Coaching volleyball again

- More camps

- More workshops

- Trying a different approach to a club

- Working on some gender-based-violence (GBV) initiatives

- Possibly a safe male circumcision campaign in my village

- Collaborating with other volunteers whenever possible

I've also just been able to do a lot of cool things personally this year:

- I've learned some Setswana

- I've learned how to cook more things

- I've read 91 books (and am in the middle of another 3)

- I've watched a bunch of movies and TV

- I've done a fair amount of writing- blogging, fiction, and nonfiction

- I've traveled to 4 African countries- Botswana, Zambia, Zimbabwe and South Africa

- I've traveled lots of different places within Botswana, including the Okavango Delta and Tsodilo Hills

- I've seen a lion, a leopard, giraffes, elephants, impala, hippos, crocodiles, amazing birds, buffalo, and tons of other things in the wild

- I've made new friends

- I've learned a lot about development and behavior change

- I've learned a lot about myself

In the next 12-14 months, I'm planning on more writing, reading, traveling in and out of Bots, backpacking after my service is over, and whatever else I can fit in. 

Most of all, thank you to my friends and family back home. Without your love, support, e-mails, phone calls, letters, packages, prayers and visits, there's no way I would have made it this far. <3 div="">

10 years

It will be ten years tomorrow since I lost my dad. Ten years is a long time. It’s a third of my life. A lot has happened in ten years. The last time I saw my dad, I had finished two years of college and just dropped out for a semester because we realized how sick he was.  Since then I finished my chemistry degree, worked for a small pharmaceutical company, worked for the chemistry department at Virginia Tech, and then decided to switch careers. I got a masters in global public health, and spent a summer doing research in Ghana. I moved from Maryland to Blacksburg to Atlanta to Africa. Now I’m serving as a Peace Corps volunteer in Botswana. Sometimes I feel like dad may think I’ve lost my mind, if he could see where I am today. It’s not that I’m doing anything bad, but it’s so far from the course he helped me set at age 18, or maybe 15.

It scares me sometimes that my life seems so normal without my dad. What they say about a ‘new normal’ after someone dies is completely true. Normal now is just me and my mom. We spend holidays together (when I’m not in the Peace Corps), vacation together, help each other move, talk on the phone weekly. Memories of a Christmas where it was the three of us are so far removed that it feels like the memories belong to someone else.

And yet the memories are there, in every part of my life. Dad teaching me to do laundry when I was twelve. Dad taking me hiking in North Carolina when I was six. Dad chaperoning girl scout trips, when he got all of us to chorus BEEP BEEP BEEP as he backed up the old red van, causing my girl scout leader to laugh so hard so could barely see the road. Taking me canoeing with his boy scout troop when I was five and plucking me out of the water when I fell in. Helping me with math homework, teaching me how to budget my allowance. Tolerating my hamsters and guinea pig, and even voluntarily picking up cinnamon (the guinea pig) every now and then. Supporting me in school, sports, drama, my faith. Pushing me to give things my best effort. Taking the time to talk with me about things (sometimes more than I wanted). Swimming in the ocean with me. Cooking creatively in the kitchen, to the point that I demanded to know exactly –what- went in that omelet before I would eat it. Taking me on visits to colleges. Volunteering with my church youth group hours and hours a week. Mentoring boy scouts. Loving and respecting my mom. Being a peacemaker in our family when things got heated. Telling everyone to be alert… because the world needs more lerts. Teaching me by example how to sleep for 14 hours straight and then being WAY hyper on family vacations. Frying 6 turkeys one thanksgiving to get the most use out of the oil. Opening his Christmas presents one year lying on his back, kicking his feet in the air, pretending to be 5 (while mom was afraid he’d drop the dutch oven he was unwrapping on his face). Always logical, always caring, always a sense of humor.

I see so much of him in myself, and I like that. I inherited his and mom’s heart for service and youth, a big reason I’m where I am now, serving as a PCV working with youth. I feel like I could have explained my career change to him and he would have been supportive, I’m just sorry I never got that chance.

He was also very much in favor of me taking risks and being my own person, so I don’t think it would bother him that I’m hanging out in Africa. I was showing signs of the international travel bug as a freshman in college. I went to him with my plan (that didn’t materialize) of going to Kazakhstan over my first spring break, and we strategized over how best to break the idea to mom without freaking her out. (Keep in mind this was like, 2 months after 9/11).

I have no regrets about how I spent the time I had with my dad. Sure, I was an emotional teenager at times, but we were able to talk things out and nothing was really left unsaid. I’m only sorry that the beginning of our friendship as two adults got cut so short.

I found the following shortly after dad died and I always identified with it. I was 20 when he passed, and the cars full of teenagers would often be going to and from scouting activities and youth group.

A great man died today.

He wasn't a world leader or a famous doctor or a war hero or a sports figure. He was no business tycoon, and you will never see his name in the financial pages. But he was one of the greatest men who ever lived. He was my father.

I guess you might say he was a person who was never interested in getting credit or receiving honors. He did corny things like pay bills on time, go to church on Sunday and serve as an officer in the P.T.A.

He helped his kids with their homework and drove his wife to do the grocery shopping on Thursday nights. He got a great kick out of hauling his teenagers and their friends to and from football games.

Tonight is my first night without him. I don't know what to do with myself. I am sorry now for the times I didn't show him the proper respect. But I am grateful for a lot of other things.

I am thankful that God let me have my father for 15 years. And I am happy that I was able to let him know how much I loved him. That wonderful man died with a smile on his face and fulfillment in his heart. He knew that he was a great success as a husband and a father, a brother, a son, and a friend.

I wonder how many millionaires can say that.

Down in the dumps, and climbing back out

I think whenever people picture Peace Corps volunteers, they get images of women with long hair and/or men that haven't shaved in a while, playing with foreign kids in front of their hut in (insert country here).  You hear stories of building libraries and playgrounds, digging wells, starting programs from nothing that revolutionize (insert sector here) of said country.
That happens. Every day I get bouncy kids in my yard playing with some sports equipment donated from an international non profit, and when my mom was here, she took lots of those types of pictures. I live in a cement house instead of a hut, and my hair is in a bun, but close enough.
I haven't built anything. Not really planning on it. I haven't started any ground-breaking programs in my little rural village. Luckily we have water, so I don't need to mobilize well digging efforts.

What a lot of people don't realize is that often a PCV feels like they are getting absolutely nothing accomplished, especially in the first year of service. And then it becomes weird when friends and family back home say things like, we are so proud of you!! And internally I'm all like, for what? I haven't left my house in 2 days. The things I'm trying at school aren't working. I feel like I can't communicate with most of my village. I'm not exactly sure what I'm being congratulated on. Not self-destructing? Hanging on some days by a thread? Usually those things don't merit celebrations. This isn't to say I don't appreciate the support and love from my family and friends in the states- quite the opposite, you guys are my strength to keep going a lot of the time. But sometimes my brain goes weird places.

June sucked for me. A lot. While I felt like a made a little progress my first term of school (Jan-March), I feel like most of that was erased the second term, or at least stagnated. This was because of a lot of things. I had raised my expectations for the second term. My counterpart got sick and spent the whole term in the capital getting medical care. Sports took over the world and made it really hard to meet with kids outside of class. It got cold... which threw off my whole routine and everything that I had adjusted to in country. It made it much harder to get out of bed in the mornings, and all of the sudden my evenings, where I usually had my downtime in a nice temperature, became freezing and I just wanted to get in bed. I got homesick. I was dealing with the stress of moving across the village. And when I briefly pondered the idea of ETing (early termination of my service), I realized that I wouldn't be any happier back in the States, because I'd be really mad at myself for quitting. So then I kind of sank into a depression for a few weeks because I could see no good way out.

During this point, I didn't post much because I didn't know what to say, or how to say it without freaking out people back home. I did reach out to friends and family back home and friends here in Bots. And I decided that if I still felt this crappy a month later, after a family vacation and a GLOW camp, that I'd go to PC medical and talk to someone.

I think my lowest point was actually on my birthday. This was because I was super homesick, I stupidly decided to spent the day alone (dumb. very very dumb.), I had kids climbing my fence and bugging me, and I had no water, electricity, or internet. But I was able to talk to my mom, and that helped a lot. I visited friends a few days later for the 4th of July. And then Mom and our friend Carol came and we had an amazing vacation. I was a little worried that I'd be even sadder when they left, but luckily I had a GLOW camp to run 2 days later, and that turned out to be the thing that pulled me out of my depression the most. I finally felt like I was doing something really special, making a difference with kids, and having a lot of fun to boot.

I feel like myself again now. I'm excited for school starting up again, and I'm trying to take more initiative to interact with kids at school- teaching some classes, clubs if they happen, and just -being- on the school grounds more after hours to hang out with students. I tried all of the formal structures before, and now I'm adding my own informal ideas, because I can't always get formal stuff to work on a regular basis. I'm trying to plan a big camp for my school at the end of term, since I've realized that's something I love doing.

Basically, I'm a little more aware of my mental health now. I'll call people to talk if I need to, or ask friends to pray for me. I'll take a mental health weekend in Gabs if I need civilization and good food, even if I spend a small amount of my own American money. I'm planning future trips and trying to remember that I haven't failed at life if something I try doesn't work.

It also helps that I know I've made it 11 months, and that I have 15 months to go instead of say, 22. I'm enjoying my time here, but I also don't want time to stop. I am a little happier with each month that passes, knowing I've made it another month, and I'm another month closer to being home. But I am also trying to live in the moment as well. I don't want to wish away my time here, because I chose to come, and I am enjoying what I'm doing and the experience overall.

I don't know how to end this, except to say I feel like I'm in a good place, mental health wise, and in my service. May was rough, June sucked in a lot of ways, but things got way better in July and August.

Goals 1-3 (and 4)

Peace Corps Officially has 3 goals.

1. Helping the people of interested countries in meeting their need for trained men and women.
2. Helping promote a better understanding of Americans on the part of the peoples served.
3. Helping promote a better understanding of other peoples on the part of Americans.

The one that everyone thinks about when they hear 'Peace Corps Volunteer' is goal one. This is the development work- clubs, projects, etc. So far in this category I officially have a few teacher workshops, and some quasi-functional clubs. Unofficially I have kids playing in my yard and lots of random conversations with kids, teachers, and the occasional community member. This often falls under goal 2 as well.

For goal 2, I've explained everything from food, dating customs (please at least ask me my name before you propose. Seriously. Arg.), education, sports, weather (our school bell sounds like a tornado siren and made me jump the first month or so I was here), family, college, transportation, pets, politics, healthcare, you name it.

Part of the reason I'm keeping up this blog is goal 3. I also hope to talk to a lot of people and groups when I come back to the USA. For the rest of my life, I'll probably be talking about Peace Corps and my time in Botswana. That's why when you go back home, you are a returned Peace Corps Volunteer (RPCV), not a former PCV. Once you join, you'll always be a PCV in one way or another :)

Unofficially, there's also what volunteers like to call goal 4. That's the things we hope to accomplish on a personal level during our service. While you shouldn't join PC only for personal development, it's good to acknowledge that PC service will change you as a person. As our director said once, the volunteers that do the best tend to have joined for a mix of personal reasons and to give back to others (paraphrasing, don't quote that).

So I thought I'd share some of my goal 4. Since my goal 1 is inching along and sometimes feels like its regressing, I've decided to focus more on goals 2-4 lately. This also comes from some soul searching last week when I realized I need to take charge of my own happiness more. I need to come up with my own ways to feel productive and give good effort to my projects and life, and not rely so much on outcomes right now.

Some of my 4th goals:
- Read 200 books during my service, 100 of which are classics. I'm almost at 60 right now, and around 15 of them have been classics.
- I want to learn to cook more things, especially vegetarian dishes. So far I've learned to cook a few more things- pancakes from scratch, morogo (the way they cook greens here), lentils a variety of ways, homemade tortillas.
- Writing. Keeping up this blog, some reminiscences, some creative writing ideas, some journaling. If I'm brave enough I might post some of that here. So far I've got the blog, a journal, and a few other things.
- Keep in touch with people at home. Facebook/E-mail/Letters for now.  If you write me I promise to write you back!  Safe to say my facebook addiction has survived Africa.
- Learn to play guitar. I bought one here and haven't touched it yet.
- Trivia- I'm trying to memorize the periodic table and all of the countries and world capitals. Maybe I'll be good on a trivia team for once when I get home! Yes I know I'm a geek.
- Get in shape. I brought some exercise bands with me and also haven't touched them.
- I'd like to learn some of the constellations. Once again, I have a small star chart I haven't touched.
- Finding different ways to be creative. Sometimes I've colored, or sketched, or watercolored. I've made friendship bracelets to give to kids, and I'm planning on making some collages for my walls. And I want to keep track of my digital pictures and caption them as I go along, so when I get home I'm not overwhelmed.

So these are some of the things I try to do in my current large amounts of free time. 4th goal for the win!   I also watch TV/movies sometimes and play too many computer games, but those aren't really goals :P
Anyone else have ideas of things for me to do?

Expectations, Part 2

Sorry this got kind of long. I would make it 2 posts, but I don't know where to split it.

I’ve been thinking about expectations a lot since I wrote my first post on it.  Mostly trying to figure out why I feel so frustrated so much of the time, when I didn’t think I had any high expectations.  What I’m actually doing is continuing to uncover my hidden expectations, evaluate them, trying to figure out if they are valid, and then figure out what I can change to unfrustrate myself. Sometimes I can change my own behavior, more often the expectation. It’s actually a good learning process, and it’s one of those things that I know will benefit me in the long run, but… its like character building.  End result good, process sucks.

Chatting with fellow volunteers, one thing we keep coming back to is being frustrated with systems in this country. I’ve already blogged that the ministry of education is like the ministry of magic in Harry Potter. But it seems all of the systems are mysterious, overly complicated, slow, and change without warning. Yes, I realize I’m living in a developing country. But Botswana is actually a middle income country, and with that and a good government, goes so much potential… and I think therein lies one of my (and a lot of people’s, including Batswana’s) hidden expectations.  There are a lot of resources here.  Things should work better than they do.

Tied to that is an overarching theme that has been weird to digest, an expectation that I got from listening to Peace Corps stories from other volunteers before I came. I thought I would be placed in a country with a lot less resources, but a lot more people eager and willing to change things. Instead, I’m in a middle income country with comparably, lots of resources and a population that overall, wants the government to fix everything and doesn’t think they individually can change things.  The first part of this is understandable- the government build roads, clinics, and schools when the country had nothing. Since the government owns half of the diamond mines, they could afford to. Currently the government is the largest employer in Botswana. On the surface there’s nothing wrong with that (other than the fact that the diamonds are going to run out in 10-20 years, but that’s another post for another day), but its lead to dependence on government. And not the type you hear politicians in the US wailing about during election season. American welfare will never rival the amount of financial, and really emotional, dependence that Batswana have on the government right now. Financially, it’s not necessarily a bad thing that the government is preventing a lot of people from starving by providing a welfare system to people without jobs (although job creation is a problem as well). Emotionally… it’s hard to convince people that there can be good jobs outside the government. And that good things can be done outside the government. And that you can create a village group that doesn’t have to be registered under some branch of government, for the love.  The people in some ways seem sort of stuck. With resources around them.  It’s such a weird environment to work in.

I also expected to make friends with people as I worked with them. That’s how it goes in the USA a lot, at least in my experience.  Here, I’m finding that people don’t want to do a lot with you until they know you. You become friends with someone and learn to trust them, and then you can do things together.

I also expected there to be a learning curve, but things would get progressively better. And while things are getting better, it’s not linear. It’s not even one step forward, two steps back. If that were the case, I’d just walk backwards and still get things done. It’s like a complicated square dance from one side of the room to the other. You think you are going one direction and then all the sudden someone spun you in a circle and you are do-si-doing someone you never met, and then you are back where you started going, what the hell just happened? And then you can skip halfway across the room and feel super productive, until you get spun around again.

In the beginning of May, a few weeks into the term, I had some returned Peace Corps volunteers (RPCVs) come to interview some of my kids for a project they are doing. It was sheer pulling teeth to get it to happen. My counterpart was out sick, and I just had to start frantically pulling teachers, anyone that was a friend of mine or had ever been nice to me, to help me find kids and be translators.  The interviews were 1-2 hours long. That’s a lot of time to pull teachers out of classes. Plus we had to translate the consent forms to the kids and make sure they were okay doing the interview. We may have had to do this 6 times for form 1 girls, and –still- didn’t get one to consent. It was kind of insane. At the end of the several day interview marathon, I did the Kings Foundation training. And learned not to schedule things back to back, because holy cow I was tired.  But in the midst of the relief and pride of actually getting those two activities to work… I was frustrated. Is every single thing I do in my village going to require this much effort? Am I going to have to sit on people to get things done, every time I want/need something done? A, that’s insane, and B, that’s not sustainable. And C, that’s going to piss everybody off, including myself. –Sigh- I took a few days off to visit friends and do some Peace Corps business in Gabs. When I got back to my village, I was in a bit of a funk. And it’s lasted a couple of weeks. I’m sort of on the verge of pulling myself out of it, we’ll see. But during this funk, I didn’t want to leave my house. Several days I just didn’t. And all my clubs got cancelled anyway for the last 3 weeks. A few other things got done. And I thought a lot.

I didn’t expect clubs to be such a battlefield during my Peace Corps service. This sort of goes back to the ‘things should work better’ expectation. Clubs get scheduled, and then get stepped on by anything else going on in school. Sports, testing, teacher workshops, outside groups coming in, meetings, late lunch, etc. And really, I can’t change the slightly wacked out school system, consisting of end of month testing, a 6-day schedule for a 5 day week (seriously), and overworked teachers. I can do everything the same, prepare things, check the calendar, etc, for clubs, and half the time they happen, and half the time they don’t. I think this is related to the definition of insanity- doing the same thing over and other again, and expecting different results. Except I’m expecting the same results and different things happen.  So, I decided that my give-a-damn is busted as far as clubs, or at least PACT club, is concerned. I’ll show up, and if clubs happen, cool. If they don’t, fine. I can’t sit on people or stress about something that’s supposed to happen weekly, that’s planned into the schedule, but still evades actually happening pretty often.

I decided that I need to take more initiative on my own to hang out with kids, because the club structure only works sometimes. And if I have an informal lunch scrabble club, and an informal yard hula hooping club, well, I’ll make the best I can, formal structures be damned. Ball sports, which have contributed to my lack of clubs this term, has given me the opportunity to hang out with the volleyball teams, and I’m hoping to continue getting to know those girls after the season ends.

I’ve gotten 2 teacher trainings to happen this term, as well as an all-school assembly. And aside from reminding people a few times to come, they were relatively painless. I’ve learned that things like this can happen if I can get them on the school calendar at the beginning of the term. If they don’t get on the magical calendar in the beginning, I can’t add them on in the middle of the term, even if the day is free. That would make people’s heads explode. So although it’s odd, it’s something I can work with. And I’ve decided that I don’t mind sitting on people to make one-time events happen. It’s one thing to remind everyone you have a workshop tomorrow, 1-2 times a term. It’s another to remind them to show up to your club every week. I’m learning to pick my battles.

I’m also learning not to put all of my eggs in one basket. Or, don’t count your club meetings before they happen. I’ve met members of the HIV support group in Salajwe and hope to help them with future projects. I’m also hoping to make a contact with someone working with out of school youth in my village, to work with them as well. I need to stop thinking that all I can do is go to school, because I need to find other things to do if school isn’t working out all the time.

I’m also learning to just show up more. It doesn’t matter that I’m not doing much. Being there makes people see me and shows I care. It helps me find opportunities when I catch random announcements, or hear that the schedule changed for a weird reason. I feel more productive out of my house than in it, which is pulling me out of my funk.

I guess that’s a lot of hidden expectations. But things are still happening; I’m less in a funk, and who knows? I’m still finding things to do, and I may have a PACT club before 2014.

Great Expectations (with apologies to Dickens)

Why did I join peace corps?

This question has been bouncing around my brain lately, and it came to a head today amidst a conversation online between some of my fellow PCVs.  Apparently some prospective PCVs have found some of my friends blogs and have been asking about their experiences in Botswana, and asking whether we recommend they accept their Bots placement.  Yeesh, no pressure or anything.

If you ask all 32 of my group why we joined Peace Corps, you’d probably get 32 different answers.  Sure there would be some common threads along the lines of, I want to help people, I want to travel, I’ve wanted to for x number of years.  But the decision to take that leap is different for each person that serves.

I had been thinking about being a Peace Corps Volunteer since at least undergrad if not before.  I don’t remember when I first heard of it.  For a while it was sort of a hazy future dream that I didn’t think I could actually do, and by that I mean I didn’t think I had the guts to go and survive overseas by myself for 2 years.  True I’m not by myself in that there are 130+ volunteers in country with me, but I do live by myself in a village, 30 minutes from the nearest American.

Then when I decided to make a bit of a career switch into public health from chemistry, it seemed a good way to get field experience.  And going into PC with a masters seemed to make the idea of being plunked down in the middle of nowhere and being expected to do development projects a little less scary. I also did the masters international program at Emory to learn more about PC, but mostly to talk to returned volunteers about their experiences.  I didn’t want the glossy brochures, I wanted real stories.  I wanted to know the good, the bad, and the gross.  I needed to process some possible scenarios and see if it would be worth it for me, and if I could handle it.

Ultimately I decided to apply and planned on going, without really dwelling on it too much.  That probably sounds really strange, but once I decided it was what I wanted to do, and that I was doing it… I didn’t want to think about it much because I was afraid I would talk myself out of it.  It was easy to distract myself during the application process because I was in grad school.  And then I got my placement and mostly convinced myself that it was what I wanted*, and boom- I left for Botswana.

One of the consequences of not thinking about my 2 years of service much before I left was that I thought I had no expectations.  And it was emphasized to me to not have expectations.  Well, I had expectations that I didn’t realize until I got here.  Some were fulfilled: I expected to work with teens, work in HIV, live in a remote village, read a lot of books, have to be creative, etc.  Some weren’t fulfilled and it turned out fine:  I thought I wouldn’t have electricity or running water and I have both, I thought I would be able to do more in the beginning and I am learning patience, etc.  Some weren’t fulfilled and it’s made parts of my service so far harder than I thought: I thought it would be easy to make friends- its not so much. I have made some, but its taking a lot longer than I thought.  I thought Peace Corps would be more understood and welcomed in the country.  It’s not that people don’t want us here, but most people don’t know what we are here for, ask us for money a lot, and seem confused by our presence, especially at first.  I thought I would be using my MPH more and doing more health related things- it’s not that I’m no using my education at all, but I’m not planning on working in a school/education after Peace Corps, so it’s not as applicable to my future.  I thought PC knew what they were doing a lot more than they do.  PC Washington promotes the masters international program like they place you special if you have a masters, and that’s completely not true, at least in this country.  PC Botswana is forced to work with various government agencies that border on dysfunctional, and that affects every volunteer in country.  I’m not sure which part of PC, or all of them, is to blame for the fact that most of our pre-service training was awful. Sometimes being a PCV feels like being in a weird social experiment, on top of integrating into your village and doing development work.

So there are all of the expectations I didn’t know I had.  But I’m also learning that expectations aren’t two dimensional in Peace Corps.  I’ll plan a PACT club and hope 8 kids show up, and I get 6.  Should I be disappointed?  My expectation wasn’t met.  Then the next week those same kids lead 3 hours of Youth Against AIDS month rally for the entire school- singing, dancing, giving speeches, writing poetry.  Expectations blown out of the water.

I had expectations that I’d make friends, because, well, I’ve made friends everywhere else I’ve gone in my life right?  Why not Botswana?  So far I’ve made about 4.  And I consider that a huge accomplishment…  Considering that not 2 months ago I felt like I had zero.  So in a way, that’s an expectation exceeded for now.

If you asked me why I wanted to join Peace Corps 8 months ago, about a month before I left, this is probably what I would have said.  I want to: help people. Travel. Get field experience. Prove to myself that I can do it. See if I want to live abroad in the future. See how things work on the ground in public health before I get jobs higher up the ladder.   Am I doing all of that? I think so. I’m also learning that at least half of the PC experience is the relationships you build with the people you live and work with.  I knew that would be important, but I didn’t know how important. Expectation altered. I’m learning that behavior change is really hard. I’m learning how much I rely on the support of my family and friends, here in PC and back in the states. I’m learning just how bored I can get in my village. I’m learning how much I take water for granted in the US.

Getting your expectations tossed back in your face isn’t exactly pleasant, but I feel like the general trend is upwards.  If I went home now I’d be seriously frustrated and feel like hadn’t done anything, because most of what I’ve done is lay the groundwork for the rest of my service.  I’ve been trying to get to know people, make friends, and figure out how things work.  Learn a little Setswana.  Survive PC trainings and lock down.  I have 19 months to go, and feel like I’ll be able to do a little more each month.

I probably won’t be able to fully say whether or not my pc experience was ‘worth it’ in different ways until I’m back in the States.  Sure, some parts are frustrating as hell.  There’s a lot of hard work involved… but that’s at least one expectation that I had in the right place- I didn’t expect it to be easy.  I hope it will be worth it, although personal growth wise, I think it already has been.  There are lots of reasons I came, and lots of (sometimes different) reasons I plan on staying.  Who knows if I would have been happier or more frustrated in a different placement or a different country, but seeing that I’ll never know that, there’s no use worrying about it. 

I guess the biggest expectation I had was that my service was going to be full of challenges and cool things I couldn’t really dream of until I got here, and that has been true.

*I was really happy to get a placement in sub-saharan Africa, my only disappointment was the placement sounded more like youth development than health.  And I was right about that, because they are literally changing my job description to youth development in HIV/AIDS.  But I came to grips with that here and now like my placement so its ok.  That’s probably a whole other post for another day.