Holidays!

Sanibonani, Team America!

I never know how to answer the phone here. People keep cell phone conversations extremely brief because we're charged by the minute. I don't want to say "sawubona" because it means "I see you," and that certainly isn't accurate. I'll let you know if/when I solve the mystery. Usually I just say hello. That seems to work fine.

Jack and I enjoyed the Christmas holiday on the homestead. We had a long adventure with a gravel road when we decided to hit up the Simunye Country Club. The town is parallel to mine in the country, but the paved road would have led us either up and around or down and around. My host dad gave us directions on the gravel road. It ended up being almost disastrous (we had to turn around because of high water over a bridge; it took 2.5 hours to get there), but we made it. That meant a Christmas spent swimming and eating grilled meat. A barbecue is called a braai here. It was lovely. On the way there, we saw a baboon cross the road with some sugar cane in its mouth. On the way back, we saw a giraffe chilling and eating leaves along the road. Productive day!

My homestead is bustling with family. Now (just after 6 a.m.), two of my host brothers are starting the process of building a new hut for one of them. I'm excited to see it go up, and I hope I get to help. Also this weekend, one of my sisters has part of her wedding. It's a long process, getting married in the SWZ, and this part will involve dancing and her moving to her new homestead. The women go to live on the man's family's property when they marry. That's part of the reason for paying lobola, or bride price: The bride's family loses her to the husband's. Busy weekend.

Jack should have his car soon. He has a loaner now, and it makes our lives pretty different. I'm sure I'll still spend plenty of time on public transport, but it's so much easier when you can decide to drive to breakfast.

OOOH, breakfast. That reminds me: I recently had my best breakfast (possibly my best meal) since being here. It was at Swazi Candle, and it was called the Hangover. Eggs, chorizo, bacon, tomatoes, peppers, beans and cheese all in a bowl and served with salad and an amazing soft, warm pita. It was phenomenal once I added some spice to it. AMAZING. Y'all will have to check it out when you visit.

That's it for now. Nothing earth-shattering to report. Things get pretty slow around the holidays when the schools are closed. I hope to have some more photos very soon.

Happy New Year!

Salani kahle.

Christmastime in Swaziland

It is decidedly not beginning to look a lot like Christmas in Swaziland — that is, if your Christmas typically occurs in the Northern Hemisphere. The sunny days and high temperatures take the sting away from not being home for the holidays, I think. It’s easy for me to forget ‘tis the season at all.

“Ube ngakhisimusi lomuhle” is have a nice Christmas in siSwati, when speaking to one person. Plural, it’s “nibe ngakhisimusi lomuhle.” That “kh” is a hard “k” sound, so it’s easy to see the parallel with the English word.

It is nice because more of make and babe's children are home. That means grandkids, and I like having the small ones around. I haven't been playing with them much yet, but I'm thinking of either getting out my crayons or having them help me decorate a "Christmas tree." Maybe the mango tree? Oh, and there's a super tiny one. My host sister had a baby four days ago (!). Very cute.

Jack is settled into his new place and seems to be adjusting well to the Kingdom. His biggest challenge, I think, is Swazi time. You sort of just have to get used to that. It sounds like he’s going to be able to do a lot of excellent work for the organization he volunteers with. I’m excited for him, though he’ll have a lot of downtime during the office’s monthlong holiday break …

I had a week of training and then spent two days teaching journalism to kids at a children's home near Manzini. I'll have to write more about that soon. Then I was in Mbabane for three days working on the Swazi Sojournal, PC Swaziland's newsletter. I was elected to it at training, along with two others. It's a monthly newsletter written by PCVs and PC staff. It goes to all volunteers but also to the embassy, and it requires quite a bit of work. I just couldn't stay away, naturally.

---

Today was an interesting exercise in the flexibility of being a PCV. As I was walking to the clinic in the morning, I passed what is called a kagogo center. These were established to serve as meeting places in communities where health information could be shared. They’re also meant to meet the needs of OVCs, orphans and vulnerable children. The one in my community has been less active because there hasn’t been food available to feed the children. Today, I saw three bomake there with a fire going.

“What’s happening today?” I asked.

“A white man is coming,” the center manager told me. “I want you to talk to him.”

She thought he was from South Africa and wasn’t sure if he was with an NGO or what. I asked the manager I the OVCs would be coming to eat, and she said yes. I texted my counterpart at the clinic to let her know I was going to hang around the center to see what transpired.

Pretty soon, a local woman who works with the NGO World Vision arrived. She’s excellent, and I love working with her. She started getting things ready inside the kagogo center, a cinderblock building with a concrete floor and a tin roof. Children started arriving and unstacked preschooler-size plastic chairs in lime green, blue and red. They sat clutching the dolls that live at the center.

The woman from WV led the children in songs. I joined when they were in English and went on long enough for me to catch the words. Suddenly, she stopped everyone. I had been engrossed and hadn’t noticed the crew of NGO folks arriving outside. It turned out that the group was from the World Food Program and USAID. The WFP provided food for the children for the day. I chatted with the NGO people for a while, and they were lovely.

“What were you doing in there? Were you teaching?” one asked me.

“No, I mostly was just hanging out,” I said. I explained that I’ll eventually be doing projects but am still figuring out the lay of the land. On a related note, I can’t believe I’ve been at site almost four months. I don’t have a lot of tangible work to show for it. Intentional relationship building, y’all.

I knew WFP worked with my local clinic. They’re part of a program called Food as Prescription, through which people who are sick and malnourished receive food parcels at clinics. I think the participants must have HIV, TB or both to qualify. A challenge, the WFP folks noted, is that people are put on the program until they reach a certain BMI and then are discharged. They’re finding that people often return a couple of months later because they can’t acquire adequate nutrition on their own. To combat this, they said, WFP is working with livelihood NGOs that teach people gardening and agriculture to promote self-sufficiency. Makes sense to me.

The NGO peeps stayed for a bit, talking to the community members and photographing the children as they ate. After they had gone, the children received two bars of soap each and a pair of Toms shoes before leaving. I probably contributed to the chaos of this affair, tickling children and throwing them into the air. I realized I should be more careful — I didn’t want any kiddos vomiting up their WFP meal. We cleaned up (“You are a real woman,” I was told as I swept the floor), and I moved onward toward the clinic. It was noon.

I had received some ambiguous information about a health event planned for my community today. I didn’t have a lick of detail about it and was unsure that whatever it was would come off. All I knew was where it was supposed to be held. As I headed in that direction, I heard people speaking into microphones. A crowd was gathering as children performed a drama.

From a couple of women I knew, I learned that the Clinton Health Access Initiative was in town to kick off the creation of youth clubs focused on health. This event included the drama, a lesson about hygiene and sanitation, food and a performance from an adorable 8-year-old gospel singer. I met a gentleman from CHAI and a woman from an organization that promotes male circumcision (have I discussed the benefits of that for HIV prevention? Yes? No? We’ll get there). I enthusiastically offered my services to the youth club, and I hope to get involved in whatever they have going in my village.

Finally, I headed to the clinic to finish out the day. I’d left home at 8:30 a.m., and it was after 2 p.m. I stayed at the clinic until we shut down the HIV Testing and Counseling side around 3 and then headed home with my counterpart. We stopped by her father’s nursery on the way, and he gave me more red onions, garlic and maize than I’ll be able to eat all alone.

All in all, it was one of the more rewarding days I’ve had as a PCV of late. It’s great to just make connections with people in the community and with members of other groups who are doing work here.

On an unrelated note, I received a wonderful packet of letters from a first-grade class at my former elementary school. I look forward to responding to each one, painstakingly addressed to “Mr. Terrell.” I would say that’s my father’s name, but he prefers to go by “doctor.”

Salani kahle, everyone, and nibe ngakhisimusi lomuhle!

GLOW money, mo' problems

Hi, team! I want to take a moment to ask for your help.

Peace Corps Swaziland is part of a broader PC effort called GLOW, Girls Leading Our World. This is a project that brings girls together to work on self-esteem, leadership, education and girls empowerment issues. Although I haven't yet begun a GLOW club in my village, this issue is near and dear to my heart. So, so, so many girls will benefit from attending clubs where they learn life skills and socialize with one another. It's an enormous boost to their self-esteem, and the SWZ is a society where women often don't have as many opportunities as men. An annual weeklong camp gives them a chance to meet and enjoy each other's company. This is HUGE, especially as many of the girls get few opportunities to leave home and go to camp.

If you can spare any amount of money, it would be an enormous help. One U.S. dollar is worth more than 8 emalangeni, and a few dollars makes a difference. Please, please take a minute and contribute. The link is below.

https://donate.peacecorps.gov/index.cfm?shell=donate.contribute.projDetail&projdesc=645-096

Thank you! I will make sure to get photos and information about how the GLOW camp goes so you can see what your money helped accomplish. These girls will love it, I can tell you that much.

Random photos

 Here's me in my traditional Swazi outfit before swearing in several months ago. I can't remember if I posted it and wanted y'all to check it out. The fabrics are called emahiya (singular: lihiya).

 Me with some lovely folks from my community!

 Me with a gal who works at the clinic and is a killer net ball player. Net ball is kind of like basketball, but you play it outside in the grass and you don't dribble. There are two goals as in basketball, and you spend most of the time passing. Women play; men don't.

 Another view of my backyard.

 Babe and my host brother plowing with oxen! I can't remember whether I posted this one, so I apologize if it's a repeat.

One of the chairs Walker and I made! They're  not the mooooost comfortable thing in the world, but they get the job done.

A few photos

Did I post this one already? It was on my desktop, and it's pretty. It's from our training village several months ago. I liked how the fog resembled a lake.

 These goats were just chillaxing at a bus stop in a town called Buhleni. Pretty wonderful.

Home sweet hut, for those of you who didn't see it on the fb.

Wild pig at a game park. Pumba, right? I desperately need to watch "The Lion King," like, now.

Jack in the SWZ!

Jack is here! It’s exciting and somewhat nerve-racking for both of us. He’s been flitting about the capital, getting his cell phone situation taken care of, familiarizing himself with the city and looking for a place to live. I’d say he’ll never take a cell phone for granted again, but I think we all take a million things for granted even after they’ve come with some sweat and grunt work. I suspect that we’ll both return to that mode pretty quickly after we get back in a couple of years.

He spent a couple of days in the village with me, which was great. It’s invigorating to see the country through new eyes again. I’ve only been here five months (can you believe it?), and so much has become normal in that time.

Also, there’s a guy in a restaurant in Manzini who says “small chicken curry?” when I come in now. I suppose it’s easy to remember the usual for one of the few blond-haired, blue-eyed umlungus that wanders through the door. Umlungu means white person, if we haven’t covered that.

Jack already has a few promising leads on places to live, which is excellent news. He could stay with me for a bit in the hut. We’ve opted not to do that because I’m not yet comfortable imposing on the family for an extended period of time, and there isn’t a lot of space for two people and all their stuff. Either way, I’m sure he’ll spend plenty of time here. And his separate space will be closer to his volunteer work (plus, I’m hoping it gives me access to the occasional shower).

I’ll let Jack tell you about his first impressions when he gets his blog up and running. I will say that his arrival here was not without complications. The kindness of strangers pulled through in a big way, and we owe a lot to lovely doctors from the Baylor facility in Mbabane and a fellow from the Clinton Health Access Initiative. When Jack’s plane was turned back to Johannesburg, those people made sure he got not only to the country but also to the hotel we’d booked. That was a nail-biting five hours for both of us.

Incidentally, I got a discounted ride from a stranger to the airport and a free lift (turned out I didn’t need that one, but that’s moot) from a kind Zimbabwean at the airport. Swaziland hospitality FTW.

My integration period ends Wednesday, which means I won’t be required to stay in my village all but one night per month. PC still wants us in our villages the vast majority of the time, of course, but we have some flexibility now. This week will include a Thanksgiving meal at the ambassador’s house and a PC vs. U.S. Embassy softball game. I think we’ll throw Jack in there as a secret weapon.

Life is good, friends. Jack got a taste of some gross heat, but it’s cooled off a bit with rain again. I’ve started writing letters to several classrooms in the U.S., and I’m excited to correspond with some kids from my hometown.

Below is part of a four-page email I sent Jack with siSwati words and phrases. I thought some of you might find it interesting. “Ph” is a “p” sound, and k followed by a vowel is a “g” sound. “Kh” is a “k” sound."C" is a click made by pressing your tongue against the back of your top teeth.

Ligama lami ngu Jack: My name is Jack.

Ngiwaka Weinstein: My surname is Weinstein.

Ubuyaphi?: Where do you come from? (buya = come) This can mean now or in general — are you coming from home? etc.

Ngibuya emmelika: I come from America. (You can also just say America.)

Ngibuya ekhaya: I come from home (today)

Uphumaphi?: Where do you come from?

Ngiphuma emmelika: I come from America.

Uhlala kuphi?: Where do you stay?

Ngihlala eMbabane: I stay in Mbabane

Ngihlala ka Manzini: I stay in Manzini

Ngiyajabula kukwati: I’m happy to meet you.

Ngiyafundza siSwati: I’m studying siSwati.

Ngisikhuluma kancane siSwati: I can speak a little siSwati.

Ngicela: Please may I have … (remember the click)

Ngiya: I’m going (usually followed by a place)

Umthoyi: toilet

Imali: money

People also say “rand” as often as if not more often than emalangeni. So people will tell you “five rand” if that’s your fare.

Ngifuna: I want

Ngitsandza: I like

Kumnandzi: Delicious/good

Kakhulu: a lot/much — This is used for many things indicating scale. Kuyashisa kakhulu means it is very hot. Sometimes when you say “sawubona,” people will say “yebo kakhulu,” for example. I’m not sure why.

Kancane: a little bit — same usage as above, but opposite for a little bit or small

Namuhla: Today

Itolo: Yesterday

Kusasa: Tomorrow

Lisontfo: Sunday

Umsombuluko: Monday

Lesibili: Tuesday (also indicates “two”)

Lesitsatfu: Wednesday

Lesine: Thursday

Lesihlanu: Friday

Umngcibelo: Saturday

Support group

Sanibonani, bangani (Hello, friends).

Jack gets here on Wednesday! I think we’re both stressed, but we have a plan of action for how he’ll begin things here. I look forward to showing him around the country. It’s really exciting that he’ll finally be able to get started with his volunteer work. I was trying to get him jazzed up on the phone last night by reminding him that he’s flying to AFRICA! Sometimes you kill two or three big spiders a day, but besides that it’s awesome.

I went to a support group for children with HIV on Saturday. Because of the nature of the work I’m doing here, I’m going to be careful about the photos I post. I doubt I’ll post much of anything from the clinic. I don’t want to invade anyone’s privacy or inadvertently reveal anyone’s status. Please help me with this. If you see something questionable, let me know. I actually haven’t taken any photos at the clinic. If anything, I’ll probably shoot the staff at some point so you can see with whom I’m working.

Back to the support group.

About 70 children 12 and younger participated in the monthly group. First they go through and get their antiretroviral medications and then they play games. A guy from Mbabane, I think from the Elizabeth Glaser Pedriatic AIDS Foundation, came to lead them. USAID also is involved, and I think the World Food Program is the one who provides food for the kids. Their transportation is paid for. We played a game where we introduced ourselves and then the man from Mbabane divided them into three groups: the Senate, the Assembly and the Royal Family. These groups competed against one another in a quiz game about HIV. The children, not surprisingly, know a lot about the virus they have. I was one of the judges, but I wasn’t particularly useful because the game was in siSwati. I kept vigilant score, however.

Part of the game also included questions about the definition of sexual abuse. Sexual abuse is a big, big problem here. Jack’s going to be doing some volunteer work related to that.

The children seemed to have a great time, laughing and talking. Many have been coming for quite some time. The clinic staff always refer people to support groups when they’re diagnosed with HIV. The Royal Family team came through in the end to win it all. Then they lined up for food — chicken, rice, beet salad and lettuce salad.

The adults who helped also received food. I felt bad about that because I don’t need it and had brought a sandwich. I gave the rest of mine to a girl who had come with a friend and wasn’t part of the support group so wasn’t getting food.

As I ate with the head nurse, a small boy came up. He’d said hello earlier, remembering. me from last month’s support group.

“Babe, can you borrow me this container?” he asked the nurse, pointing to his take-away food carton. “I want to take this food home.”

This was about the part of the day where my heart broke. I’m sure this little kid needed the food himself. I’m also sure he wanted to take it back home to share with his family.

The nurse directed him inside for a container.

It’s a different reality here, every day. That’s good. That’s why I’m here. But it isn’t always easy to see.

In happier news, the dog on my homestead had her puppies a few days ago. I’ll get some photos when they emerge from the bushes. Right now they still look like rats.

Salani kahle.

Getting out the vote

Sanibonani!

We enjoyed a great party at our country director’s house for the election. Some people stayed up all night to watch returns start coming in. I slept from about 10:30 p.m. to 3:30 a.m. and then got up. There were already some East Coast states on the map by then.

It was pretty exciting watching it all happen. Most of the group seemed to support Obama, but there was a handful of crestfallen Republicans among us as well. I don’t think either president would have made much of a difference for Peace Corps, but volunteers do get a year of preferred status for government jobs when we return. People certainly have thoughts about what type of president they’d want to serve under. For me, in the maternal/reproductive health field, the president in control could really make a difference. For example, Mitt Romney at one point said he wanted to eliminate Title X, the only dedicated federal funding for contraceptive services (am I right on that, MCH Legislation friends?). That type of cut could affect how easy or difficult it would be for me to find a job if that’s the direction I wanted to go.

Anyway, the results are in, so we’re all moving forward.

The election reminded me again of the interesting rumors that make their way around here. Someone asked me if Obama were really the Antichrist. I had to say I didn’t know, but I told her I didn’t think so. She also had heard — someone read something to her about it — that the U.S. Congress passed new legislation requiring microchips to be inserted into all Americans’ foreheads for some health-care-related purpose. Americans, is that happening? I said it wasn’t. This was also read as a sign of the apocalypse/Obama as Antichrist because of something in the Bible about marks on the forehead.

These are very real perceptions of America here. Not everyone thinks them, of course, but they aren’t considered as surprising as they are to American ears. It’s interesting.

Jack comes on Wednesday! I’m excited and also nervous for him. It’s tough to move to a new country (obviously), and it’s even tougher when you don’t have the Peace Corps holding your hand. They really do a good job. So he’ll just have me holding his hand, and I’ll do my best. And I know he’ll have support from you guys as well.

I spent some time at the high school yesterday, talking to the head teacher about what he needs help with. I think we’re looking at reviving a health club and a blood donation club, and they’d like some assistance with computer literacy. I’m no computer genius, but I think I can help.

My counterpart is back in my village after her training, which is really exciting for me. I look forward to working and making more plans with her. The training is also a great deal for her. It opens up a lot more job opportunities.

I also have a potential public health project brewing, but I want to wait till I have more concrete information before I tell y'all what's up. It could be a great opportunity to get involved in some HIV-related field work.

Just another Friday

Hi, team,

I went to a meeting at the local high school today with my host babe. It started about an hour late and then was canceled because there weren't enough parents present to have a quorum. Meetings here are scheduled during the day, mostly, not in the evening as they would be in the U.S. I assume this is because transport doesn't run at night, and most people don't leave their homesteads at night. Also, fewer people work typical 9 to 5 jobs, so their daytime hours are more flexible. Anyway, they're going to try again next week. Issues on the agenda were school fees, how to deal with kids misbehaving, and what they want to build on the premises.

Next week is Election Day (I voted!), and we're going to spend it watching returns at the home of our country director. I'm reaaaaaally excited about this! Returns are going to start coming in at about 4 a.m. our time, so many of us will be spending the night at his place. He's a former Democratic congressman from Ohio. I think the GOP might be outnumbered at this particular gathering. Turns out Peace Corps volunteers lean liberal.

In additional exciting news, Jack arrives in less than two weeks! It seemed so far away when I first got here – FOUR MONTHS AGO. Now it's here, which is very, very exciting. I'm nervous about the difficulties we'll encounter, such as housing and work for him, but at least we can get started on figuring those out. It's going to be so much better with him here.

That said, I'm amazed at how much I've adjusted over these months. Life here is just life. I'm not always comfortable, but I learn and understand so much more every day. My family is becoming my family, which is really nice. The girls and I watch movies together, and I've pitched in with chores here and there. Weeding maize fields by hand is not easy.

Integration ends soon. That means freedom to move about the country. It also means I have a community assessment due. I've done some of it, but there's still a lot to finish. Best be getting on that, eh?

Don't forget to vote!

Salani kahle.

On being gross

I’ve been in Swaziland for more than four months now, and I’ve now been at site longer than I was at pre-service training. This I consider a milestone. Being at site feels much different from being at PST, where we saw other volunteers every day and had a structured schedule. The routine there was extremely rigid. Here, there isn’t much in the way of a routine. That’s fine with me. I keep thinking about how difficult it’s going to be to go back to a 9 to 5 world after this experience.

I’ve also been thinking recently about how Peace Corps changes the way we think about what’s “gross.” (In this way, I suspect it’s a tiny bit like having a kid.)

Examples:

1.     Peeing in a bucket inside. Not every volunteer does this. Some go to the pit latrine at night; guys of course have it easier in this regard as well. But for some of us, if we need to go when it’s dark, we use a bucket and dump it the next day. Chamber pots have existed for ages, but I don’t think most people in the Peace Corps have used them till now.

2.     Food that doesn’t look as delicious as you’d like. As PC tells you, you become a little less discerning about what’s a bit past its prime. I don’t eat rotten food, but I’ve probably eaten some uglier produce than I would back in the U.S. I have a fridge, so this is less of an issue for me.

3.     Bathing infrequently or less thoroughly. I take a bucket bath at least once a day and wash my hair at least every third day. Some volunteers go longer; one volunteer went two weeks without washing her hair. When washing your hair and bathing are a pain, your standards change.

4.     Washing your clothes. My host family is constantly doing laundry. I mean, every day, sometimes twice a day, the ladies are out hand-washing and hanging clothes. There are washing machines in Swaziland, but I haven’t seen one. I tend to let things go about three rounds before I wash them (unless they’re visibly dirty or it’s been really hot). Like my family, I change out of my work clothes and into crappier clothes when I come home every day. I can’t tell you how happy I am that I bought two comfortable cotton knee-length skirts from Old Navy, black and gray. I wear one every single day. Old Navy attire is part of the PCV uniform, which also includes Chacos, a Nalgene and a Leatherman. (Side note: Walker sent Leatherman a letter saying he liked their products and was using them in the PC, and they sent him a thank-you note, a carrying case for his Leatherman and a bunch of stickers. Nice guys, those. He hasn’t heard back from SmartWool or Celestial Seasonings.)

5.     Killing things. I haven’t seen any super scary bugs or pests, but other PCVs have, and they do not hesitate to kill them. I did see my previous host family kill a bat that found its way inside. It was dramatic. But PCVs kill snakes, giant spiders, scorpions, roaches, etc. I am not looking forward to this. But when it’s you or the snake, well, you gotta have priorities.

6.     Diarrhea. It’s not that PCVs love talking about this, it’s that everyone experiences and expects it. So we talk more openly about it than I’d dream of doing back home. I’ve already heard a few stories, man. Lemme tell ya. Before I left, I heard that PCVs said pooping your pants was a rite of passage in PC (this is not Swaziland specific). I’ll go ahead and tell you that I haven’t crossed that particular bridge. Chances are that you won’t hear about it in this forum if/when I do, so don’t get your hopes up. Feel free to ask me when I come back. I’m sure it’ll be a heck of a story if it goes down. In the meantime, I’d be OK with avoiding this.

Topic No. 6 does raise an issue they don’t talk much about before you come. Going to the bathroom when you’re not at home can be something of an issue. In the big cities, there are public bathrooms you can pay to use. In Manzini, the new fancy mall has wonderful free bathrooms. Restaurants don’t seem to be required to have restrooms for customers, as far as I can tell, though some do. But there are some towns that just don’t offer any options. You have to plan ahead, which is often tricky (if not impossible, in an emergency). I don’t love this. But it is, as they say, what it is.

Anyway, I just wanted to share some of the PC realities with y’all. I know some of you thought it was just money, fame, fast women and a life of leisure.  

More photos!

 Sunset over my backyard maize field.

 View of the hills behind my homestead.

 More hills! Plus the pit latrine, which I don't use because I use the flush toilet (holla).

 This is the krall, where the cows hang out when they're at home.

 Hills! And the pit latrine again. And the neighbors' pit latrine. All the good stuff, friends. Nothing but the best for you.

More hills in the distance. It was just so nice and sunny today, I had to take some photos. "Kushuta" is the Swazi word meaning to take photos.

On a lighter note

I can’t remember how much I’ve told you about food. Stop me if I have. HA! You can't. Anyway, if I haven’t been over it, you probably want to know what I eat. That’s a common PCV (and life) question.

Swazis eat a lot of liphalishi, or pap, a corn porridge. Most meals include some manifestation of this. For breakfast, it can be a “sour” version or a soft porridge. Think grits. For the lunch/dinner version, think grits, but firmer. I like it fine, but I don’t cook it for myself.

Most days I start with oatmeal with honey, milk and a banana. This is a pretty normal American food, though never one I’d eat in the U.S. I don’t know why I like it so much here. I think it’s because it fills me up, and I don’t have a toaster. I could toast bread in a pan, but why turn on the gas stove? I make my oatmeal using water I’ve boiled in my electric kettle. Of course, coffee is always a part of this event. You guys did an amazing job of keeping me supplied; I think I have six bags of deliciousness now.

I often do PB&J for lunch, the No. 1 food of PCVs everywhere. You can get those items here easily, and tuna also is available. For dinner, I’ll do a veggie and egg scramble with rice, rice and beans/veggies or pasta. Avocado will be a part of this if I have it around. I don’t cook meat for myself, though I have been eating it. I’ve always been the kind of person to buy a bunch of what I know I like and stick to it. I don’t mind cooking; food experimentation is just not high on my list of priority activities. If I find a rotation I like, I tend to stick with it. Sometimes I make beets, but it takes a while and eats up a lot of gas, so I don’t do it too often.

One thing I buy here that I didn’t buy in the U.S.: long-life milk. This comes in a paper 1-liter carton, and it lasts for up to a year. Once you open it, you have to drink it within a few days. Mine usually lasts a week in the fridge. This is particularly necessary here because many people have to get on a long bus ride home with their groceries. It’s a lot easier if you don’t have to worry about keeping things cold.

I’m not sure what process allows the milk to last for so long. I try not to think about it.

My two favorite Swazi food treats are chicken dust and emafeti, or fat cakes. I think I’ve mentioned the latter. Have I told you about chicken dust?? It’s grilled chicken served with liphalishi (or rice) and salad of some kind. The “dust” is because it’s sold on the roadside. So yes, you’re probably eating a little bit o’ dust. I like it best when it comes with shredded beetroot salad. I had some today from the car wash in my village, and it was DELIGHTFUL. It came with cole slaw and spicy baked beans. What I didn’t eat (bones and skin, mostly) went to the very pregnant dog on the homestead.

I hope, btw, that we’ll get some puppy photos soon.

Fat cakes are balls of dough cooked in grease. What’s not to like? I try to avoid buying them too often, with varying success.

That, amigos, is basically my diet. Trips to town usually involve treats like soft-serve ice cream or pastries (American-style doughnuts!) from this lovely place called Baker’s Corner. Sometimes I buy Toppers, chocolate sandwich cookies with chocolate cream inside. Those are dangerously delicious.

This is all supplemented with whatever you send me, too. Everything is MUCH appreciated. I even share. The fam seems to like the Tootsie Rolls and Tootsie Roll Pops.

Fixing a gutter — with attitude

 Kids hard at work cutting blocks to attach the gutter.

 Walker doing the thing.

 This kid loved my sunglasses. Who could blame him?

His pose was so good, I decided to copy it for my own photo.

A whole bunch of public health stuff

Sanibonani, all!

Today I don’t know what I’ll do. Perhaps I’ll mosey over to the primary school to see what they typically do during life skills class. I’m not sure. These are the sort of funny days, where I could sit around and read and do crosswords but will spend at least part of the day getting out and about. PLUS it’s overcast, which means it’ll be nice and cool. Definitely something to take advantage of.

Peace Corps tells us about the continuum of adjustment over our two years (that’s not the name of it, but I don’t feel like finding the appropriate manual). It includes phases such as the “honeymoon period” and “culture shock.” Word on the street is that the chart is pretty accurate. I’m not sure. It’s hard for me to know from day to day how I feel about what I’m doing here. Integration is all about getting to know the community and making friends. I think I’m doing that, so I suppose I’m doing what I’m supposed to do. I’m also working on a community assessment to help figure out the assets, needs and desires of the people in my area. It’s interesting stuff, and I enjoy it.

I think I’m technically in the period when I should be experiencing culture shock. That’s when you realize that you’re here for the long haul and that the cultural differences you experience aren’t going anywhere. The biggest challenge is probably the marriage proposals/people who want your number. I had a guy run up to the khumbi at a station the other day and start trying to get my number through the window. There was an awkward 30-second period where the driver let us have our conversation (I said no several times) before we moved on on. It’s tricky. Sometimes you just want to be left alone, but we’re in a fish bowl here. A lot of the time I don’t mind.

I have an awesome language tutor, and we spent some time discussing HIV yesterday. She was surprised when I told her that I see a fair number of children on ARVs at the clinic.

“I mean, I know there are children with HIV, but I just didn’t think of them taking ARVs,” she said.

She asked if they looked sick. I told her that some of them do. Some of the children seem smaller than they should be for their age, but others seem to be doing OK. It’s also hard to say whether stunted growth/being underweight is related to their HIV or some other factor such as malnutrition (or a combination of factors).

She also noted the availability of medication to prevent mother-to-child transmission (MTCT) of HIV, wondering why children were still getting infected if there are means to avoid transmission.

It’s true that MTCT rates have dramatically decreased in the SWZ. Most HIV transmitted from mom to infant is passed on during birth rather than pregnancy — fluid exchange being inevitable during the journey through the birth canal — though HIV also can be transmitted to a baby through breast milk. This latter point has caused additional challenges in resource-limited settings (listen to my public health jargon!). The problem is that women breastfeed in most places, and breast milk is by far the healthiest option available for the infant. Consider: if you don’t have access to a stable and clean water source, how can you provide safe formula to your baby? How can you pay for it? Also there are the other benefits of breastfeeding, such as nutrients, antibodies, etc. The World Health Organization recommends that women with HIV exclusively breastfeed babies for the first six months of life unless formula feeding is acceptable, feasible, affordable, sustainable and safe. (I just went through four lectures from my JHSPH HIV class to find the specific terminology WHO uses. You’re welcome.) Interestingly, some studies have suggested that mixed breastfeeding, where other foods are introduced as well, is more likely to result in HIV transmission than exclusive breastfeeding.

There is evidence of reduced transmission during breastfeeding if the woman is on antiretroviral medications (ARVs). OK, so you give ARVs to all the new mothers, right? This part is tricky because there are specific indications for when a person should be started on ARVs. HIV attacks CD4 cells in the immune system. When deciding whether a person’s immune system is weak enough to start him or her on HIVs, medical staff members (usually nurses, here) look at the CD4 count. If the count is below a predetermined threshold, the person gets ARVs. If it’s not, the person is usually given an antibiotic to ward off infection and sent on his or her way. You don’t want to start treating people with ARVs before you must because ARVs are expensive, they have some negative side effects, and once you’re on them, you’re on them for the rest of your life. Additionally, HIV is a troublesome adversary. It mutates frequently, and that means people develop resistance to certain types of medication if they don’t strictly follow their pill regimen.

At this point, you might think, “But those pills will save their lives. Why wouldn’t they strictly follow their regimen?” Then think of all the times you’ve been prescribed pills. Did you take the FULL course of antibiotics even though you started feeling better after three days? Do you ALWAYS take your birth control at 7 p.m.? Yes? Now imagine taking five pills a day (two at 7 a.m., three at 7 p.m., maybe) every single day for the rest of your life. Imagine doing that if you don’t feel or look sick. Imagine doing that if you know you might be around friends or family members who don’t know you have HIV.

So back to ARVs and breastfeeding women. If a woman doesn’t need ARVs for her own clinical purposes, is it wise to give them to her only for the duration of the baby’s breastfeeding? It’s not an easy question to answer, and many a brilliant public health mind is working on that. I’m sure a lot of questions will be answered by the time I leave the SWZ.

It’s my understanding that most HIV-positive Swazi women who deliver in a clinic have access to single-dose nevirapine to prevent transmission. Nurses give women the drug during labor, and they give the drug to the baby within its first 72 hours of life. This fairly simple protocol does a pretty good job of reducing MTCT at birth.

I don’t know what the percentage is of MTCT of HIV here. I do know that in the U.S. it’s less than 2 percent. Some studies have looked at the possibility of getting that number to zero, but to my knowledge it hasn’t budged. Women in America more often have access to elective cesarean section, which greatly reduces MTCT, as well as ARVs. Elective c-section is all but nonexistent here.

I suppose what I’m trying to express with all this stuff (public health people, did I miss anything crucial? Did I screw any of it up?) is that HIV is an extraordinarily complex problem. Another element of it that my tutor and I discussed is the idea that the presence of ARVs decreases the public’s fear of HIV. Women and men say, “Yes, I could be infected, but then I’ll just take some pills.” That, of course, is a whole other issue. ARVs in SWZ are provided largely through global donor funding. If that dries up — which is a real possibility — a whole lot of people could be in serious danger of dying. And a whole lot of those people would leave behind HIV-positive and HIV-negative children with no one to pay their school fees.

OK, so there you have it: one piece of the HIV puzzle in Swaziland. Sorry to be a downer, friends. To compensate, I'm going to upload another post with some photos from Walker and my recent day spent fixing the gutter at a local primary school. He did most of the fixing and supervising of the kids. I did a lot of ladder holding and chatting.

Ohh, and thanks to O for a lovely letter and to Debi for the excellent package! I had to exercise restraint to avoid a breakfast of peanut butter M&Ms. They’re so very delicious.

Photos!

 Giant chessboard at the hotel at Pigg's Peak. Pretty sweet!

 The view from our mini hike was nice. This was what we did instead of swimming, which was OK by me. You can probably tell that the weather wasn't that great. I'm definitely enjoying the rainy season. So much water! It's nice that my family doesn't have to go to the river for now. They've harvested so much rain, it's great. This, of course, makes me realize how difficult it is for much of the world to obtain the basics. Never thought much about water security in the U.S.

 From left: Rob, me, Abdul, Walker. PCV friends, yo.

This is another view from the top of the waterfall. Pretty nice, eh? I hope to get more photos up and around soon. The dongle continues to make my life easier, but I pay by the MB, so it requires some forethought. So many new things to think about.

I spent the evening with a bunch of PCVs at a game park called Mlilwane. It has a great hostel, and we enjoyed pool time. I ate wild boar. It was delicious! The rest of the crew went to a dubstep show at a music venue called House on Fire. I don't dig that particular genre (though apparently this was more like reggae), so I went to bed at 10 instead. I felt awesome this morning, which was a bit of a contrast to most other folks. Still, they had a good time.

Salani kahle, all!