Tears in the Kingdom

Sanibonani!

I realize I've tapered off considerably in the blogosphere, which is basically a crime against humanity. But it's probably because my life here has become "normal." Everything that seemed interesting at the beginning is a lot less interesting now. So, like many people in the early 2000s, I've put my blog in the back seat.

The difference between me now and 20-something me is that my blog still might be interesting to its readers. Therefore, I'm going to try to do a better job of feeding it.

My conversations at support group often come back to gender roles, as you might have noticed. We often contrast the life of a Swazi woman with the life of an American woman. Whether it's them mocking me because I don't cook meat at home ("Nonhlanhla, you are lazy to cook!") or me telling them I couldn't marry a Swazi man because I don't like to work so hard ("These Swazi women, they are strong!"), a lot of our conversations get at the heart of the women's issues that interest me in public health.

We recently discussed the "teka" concept, or traditional Swazi marriage rites. Stop me if I've already written about this -- oh, you can't? Then here we go.

When a Swazi man wants to marry a Swazi woman, he typically gets approval from his family and the bride's family. Then he has someone (usually a neighborhood boy or relative) throw a hunk of meat on the doorstep of the woman's family. This is an indication that the marriage is on.

The next step is for the man's relatives to come to the bride-to-be at 3 a.m. and take her to their homestead. They put her in the kraal, where cattle are kept, where she remains, topless. The women of her future husband's family then insult her until she cries. I think I've discussed this before. But I'd never figured out why the woman must cry before she's officially married. I asked the support group women, and this is what one said:

"The woman must cry because it is her last chance. After that, her life will be hard, but she cannot cry about it."

That was fascinating. I'm not sure if it's the agreed-upon cultural reason -- I've also heard that she's crying because she's leaving her own family -- but the women said the tears are a sign of a challenging life to come. It's true that women bear the brunt of the work in terms of cleaning, cooking, raising the children and working the fields. The men work as well, some of them extremely hard, but the gender roles are clearly defined.

I've been here 16 months and haven't seen a Swazi adult cry. I haven't been present at any births or funerals, so I can't speak to those, but I've never seen anyone break down at the clinic or when speaking to me about a problem. It's a generalization, of course, but Swazis don't tend to show a lot of emotion in public. That's fair -- I don't either.

I asked the women if they ever cry.

"I cry every day," several said.

They asked me if I ever cried. I told them I'm not a big crier. I've cried twice in Swaziland, I think. Once was because of the loss of a loved one back home, and the other was related to personal stuff over here. But I didn't cry during the stressful adjustment period when I first got here. I'm not sure where that comes from. I'll cry at movies sometimes, and I tend to tear up at weddings, but it's not my go-to emotional response. Maybe I fit in better than I think I do.

As they tell me all the time here: "Ah! Now you are a Swazi."

Quick hits

Here are my parents and me with some of my favorite Swazi ladies in the support group with which I work. I see these women at least once a week. They're also helping me in my new plan to become fluent in SiSwati. Ngiyafundza kakhulu! (I'm studying/learning a lot!) I figure this might be a benefit if I'm applying at any agencies that work in southern Africa. Since SiSwati is a Bantu language, it belongs to a larger language family. This makes SiSwati useful outside the borders of this little country. It also gives me something to do since my work at the elementary school and the clinic occurs in fits and starts.

Mama T meets some of the preschoolers. These children attend preschool at the Neighborhood Care Point, the building behind her. Many of them are classified as orphans and vulnerable children. The women in the support group do a lot for these kids.

I am the worst

Sanibonani, bangani bami!
That means hello, my friends!

I'm embarrassed by my lack of blogging lately. You'd think I wasn't doing anything when, in reality, I am doing many of the things. Not all the things, but many.

Deep breath, aaaaaaaaaaaand, here we go:

My primary focus continues to be the women’s support group with which I work in community. I’m now in the process of working with them to try to coordinate permaculture (sustainable gardening) training. We’re being stymied by the government shutdown because we’ll probably need a grant from Peace Corps. The Washington grant office is furloughed, as I understand it, so we can prepare the documents but won’t get an answer until sometime after the shutdown ends.

In the meantime, I’ve worked with them to teach them how to make paper charcoal. It requires paper and water, which aren’t necessarily easy inputs to come by in my dry neck of the woods. They could eventually sell the charcoal if they’re able to get paper donated by local schools. I’m confident that it could bring in at least a little bit of income. We've also built a natural barrier fence for the garden using acacia thorn branches. I've got the scrapes to show it. These women are tough as nails, if you'll forgive the cliche. I know you will. You're on my team.

I continue to get great pleasure from hanging out with these women and talking about life. We had a long discussion about "blue movies" (pornos) the other day. They were under the impression that women went in with their husbands or boyfriends to act in the movies. I explained that, no, these are actors who might never have met each other before. The upshot: Now they've all heard of California, and I've assured them that I won't be getting into the blue movie industry upon my return.

I'm also in discussions with the primary school about improving their library. It's a storage closet right now, full of used workbooks and wasps nests. The challenge is that the school must raise E1,500 (about $150) to transport the books, and they must find a way to get the books to the school from town. The head teacher is going to discuss the possibility with the school committee. I'd love to see these children have access to books (the program is called Books For Africa if you want to get involved) besides what they're getting in class. There are some UNICEF-produced books around, and they've been immensely popular.

Some other volunteers have decided to organize a national spelling bee. I hope to get a spelling club started at the primary school to feed into that. Y'all might know that I do love me some spelling.

I might try to get an event together for World AIDS Day (Dec. 1) at my local clinic, but it's going to depend on how much buy-in there is from community counterparts. There isn't much time to put it all together.

I also ran a half-marathon on Sept. 28! I'd been training for it since about June, though I was nervous because of some hip flexor pain. Still, I finished unscathed and haven't had aches and pains related to it. We lucked out with a cloudy, cool day with no rain. The weather could not have been better. My goal was to finish the race in less than 3 hours and to run the entire time. I did it! I think my time was 2:37:05. Mission accomplished, and I might never do that again. Jack did the 5K and finished strong as well.

In other news, I've been allowing myself to get stressed out about my future in the job market. This could be related to the grace period on my student loans coming to an end. Eithe

NOW on to some photos!

A man in a nearby community uses donkeys to haul firewood home.

I made this condom distribution box for my local shop. It's from a wine box. Perfect size! 

Jack and me after our running victory.

I did it! And also I have a medal! Greatest day ever! Not really, but I was surprised that I didn't hate everything by the time I was finished. And I repped the Rams and the StL, which is never a bad thing.

 Me with Mama and Papa T at the Mountain Inn near Mbabane. I love getting to stay at this hotel.

Mantenga Falls! This was something else we saw with my parents. It's near the lovely cultural village.

Elections were in September. This is a wall at the entrance to my clinic. This was mostly how people campaigned. See, America? You can do it on the cheap!

This lovely purple tree is in Malkerns in central Swaziland. We saw it when we stayed at Malandela's, an excellent B&B, for Jack's birthday last month. I think it's a jacaranda?

These are most of the other PCVs who ran the half-marathon (pre-race). The three around me finished in less than 2 hours because they are robots.

This lovely view is the sunset from the porch to Jack's place. Beautiful? Beautiful. This country is gorgeous.

Photos of animals AND people!

(This is a post I put together on Sept. 11 and was unable to publish till now.)

Photos! From the top: Elephants blocking the way for cars on our way out of Kruger National Park. Dad and me nerded up for ziplining at Malolotja in Swaziland. A Cape buffalo with bird friends eating the junk off its face at Notten's. Jack and me riding high in the backseat on one of our chilly game drives. Below: Mom and Dad in the Land Rover on our first drive.