Work photos!

Hey again, everyone. Here are some photos from the work part of my service. I know -- it probably surprises you to learn that I don't just travel to exotic locales and look at beautiful mountains.

These three are from the accounting class that I taught. It consisted of five sessions, drawn from a text on accounting for cooperatives produced by Oxfam. Our classroom was a little open-air attachment to the local preschool for orphans and vulnerable children. These cement block buildings, also used for community meetings, were built by the government and are called Neighborhood Care Points.

This is one of my counterparts, Ncobile, and her dog Spider. Remember him? She helped the little runt survive with antibiotics.

After Ncobile and I attended a permaculture training, we brought a compost video back to the support group. The women made their own compost heap last week. They plan to use it for a garden they're starting to grow fruits and vegetables for orphans and vulnerable children in the community.

Final compost product! We put thorn branches around it to try to keep cows and donkeys from eating it. We do appreciate the cows, though, because they provided dung a-plenty for the compost heap. We'll turn the heap this weekend, and it should be ready for use in six to eight weeks. Here's hoping we've figured out how to fence in the garden area by then. 

The women also created a composting song. I'll attempt to post the video at some point, but I'm not optimistic. I rarely have Internet good enough to do such things.

Things to remember

Sanibonani, all!

I was feeling sentimental the other night, so I started listing in my journal sensory impressions I want to remember about Swaziland. (With this blog, my journal and letters to various folks at home, there will be a COMPLETE record of my time with PC. You're welcome, future.) Here are a few:

- The amazing colors of the sunset over the mountains behind our back maize field. This time of year is really hazy because Swaziland is on fire, and it makes for gorgeous sunsets. (Around me, the fires occur mostly in the sugar cane fields. They have to burn the dry outside part of the cane before they can harvest it. The fires also chase out the snakes. Other fires burn across the country because people light the grass on fire. I'm still not sure if this is for agriculture purposes or what.)

- The sound of the chickens' wings flapping as they fly up to roost at dusk. This is the only Blythe-approved sound that chickens make. I guess the peeps of the little ones are OK.

- The sound of my bosisi or make (sisters or mother) scraping the old pap out of the big three-legged pots they cook with. This thick corn porridge, called pap or liphalishi, is the staple of Swazis' diets. It's also why you can find bucket enema devices for sale along many a roadside.

- The smell of the far-off fires. I feel like I shouldn't like this, but I do.

- The feel of ripping apart a fresh, spongy fat cake.

- The cacophony of the Manzini bus rank. Young men run back and forth, yelling out the destination of their bus or khumbi. Vendors sell fruits, vegetables, sunglasses, hats, peanuts, fabric, clothes, shoes -- all kinds of stuff. But they aren't yelling about it, typically. The main sound is definitely the transport conductors.

- The feel of cool concrete floors on the soles of my feet.

- The warm orange glow that filters through my curtains after sunrise almost every morning. It really is beautiful, and I don't at all mind getting up with the sun.

- Watching the phases of the moon change as I go to my family's living room each night to watch our favorite South African soap. I appreciate the fact that I've lived in more than one place where the Milky Way is visible in the night sky.

I'm sure I'll think of more, but there's a start.

---

I've been trying to learn about raising chickens lately because the support group I work with wants to raise them. So far I've "learned" that roosters crow at all times of day, not just in the morning. No kidding. Roosters are a-holes.

But seriously, the manual one of my PC bosses gave me is pretty interesting. It talks all about how to tell a chicken's sex, how to tell a healthy chicken from an unhealthy chicken, how to build a proper chicken house and the phases of chicken growth. It turns out the process is complicated. It also turns out to be expensive. A visit to the Ministry of Agriculture revealed that it could cost more than E21,000 (about $2,000) for the first batch of chickens alone. And that's if you raise and sell 950 (starting with 1,000 and expecting a 5 percent loss). When we priced the chicken house materials, it came to probably $7,000 U.S.

The moral of the story is that I'll have some interesting and perhaps discouraging information to share with the support group. They certainly don't have this kind of money, and I'd almost rather have us start with a different (cheaper) income-generating project. Maybe if they can establish their coffers, they can move into chickens later. Or maybe they'll decide to go a different direction altogether.

But of course the project is all about the women, so it will be up to them. It's just daunting.

On the positive side, the ministry does provide free training on how to raise poultry. So we can bring in experts, which is huge.

That's the main thing on my plate, amigos. The parents come next week. I'm extremely excited to show them the Kingdom! It's going to be fantastic. I just hope they're not too nervous about the trans-Atlantic journey. I'm proud of them for making it happen.

Swazi words of the day:
Siyavakasha. - We are visiting.
Sibuya emmelika. - We come from America.
Ngiyabonga kakhulu. - I thank you very much.

Where my girls at?

Sanibonani, bangani!

One of the many things they tell you in PC is that service is more about the relationships you build than the bricks-and-mortar projects you do. At first I laughed at the Intentional Relationship Building concept (remember?). I've since found that nothing could be better than the relationships that have grown between members of my community and me.

The women in the support group I work with are by far my favorites. My best counterpart there never fails to make me laugh. She has a tiny dog named Spider and a larger puppy named Scorpion (Bulembu and Fecela, respectively, in siSwati). When Spider arrived at her place, he was near death. She nursed him with crushed cotrimoxazole -- an antibiotic given to all people with HIV -- mixed with water and milk. The puppy seems pretty strong now.

"This one is sick, you must not beat him," she explained. "He must take his ARVs."

I taught the support group accounting using a book I found at the PC office in the capital. I invented a five-session course and gave them a test. It went pretty well. The women often operated on Swazi time, arriving at least half an hour late. I'm at the point where that doesn't bother me unless I have somewhere else to be. This is one thing I've learned: I try to avoid planning more than one activity per day. You just don't know how long things will take.

After class, if I had time, I'd often stay and shoot the breeze with the ladies. They'd ask me about America, and we'd talk about the differences between our countries.

"Here, the man is treated like a king," they told me. They also said I would get into trouble with the local tribal leaders if they found out that sometimes Jack cooks. Traditional Swazi culture is strict in terms of gender norms. A woman is punished if she doesn't do the work that is expected of her.

One amazing conversation we had involved two of the support group women explaining how they think Americans talk.

"Americans don't say 'hello,' they say 'helloooooooo,'" ND told me, saying it in a high-pitched singsong. I couldn't stop laughing. I told her I want to take video of her so I can show you guys. It's difficult to put into words how glorious it was.

The women also told me they couldn't understand me on the phone when I first arrived, but now I speak Swazi English. PC volunteers always joke about our "Swazi voice." We all have to slow down our speech and enunciate, otherwise our Swazi friends have a tough time understanding what we're saying. Some volunteers end up with a weird British accent happening. We mock those volunteers.

The bottom line is that I'd like to issue a formal apology to the concept of intentional relationship building. I never should have made light of you, sir or madam. You're going to make or break this whole experience.

---

The Next Big Thing will be the arrival of Mama and Papa T on Aug. 20. We're going to hit up Kruger National Park again, as well as St. Lucia for some whale watching and beach time. I'm pretty psyched. If you see them, give them a high-five and tell them they'll have an ah-mazing time.

Now I'm in town going through my mid-service medical checkup. This is also known as poop in a cup time. Here's hoping everything comes out OK (see what I did there?).

Keep fighting the good fight, team!

Salani kahle!

The swing of things

 Sanibonani! Here are two posts in one. The first I wrote yesterday; the second I wrote today. The division should be clear.

Things are settling back into normalcy for me at site after the whirlwind Weinstein visit and some time in the big city for our PC Swaziland newsletter. While a fellow volunteer/newsletter editor and I worked on this edition, we spent some time discussing challenges at our sites. Both of us have experienced delays with our girls empowerment clubs because of school scheduling (this has been a busy term for sports). Likewise, we both have had challenges teaching life skills at our schools. For me, this was the same scheduling issue. I also hit a snag in working with the women's support group on their chicken project. It felt for both of us as if we were at a lull in our service. Not much seemed to be working the way we expected.

This, bangani (friends), is Peace Corps. We're about a year into our time here, and we've spent that year trying to get various projects off the ground. For myriad reasons, this is not the easiest thing in the world to do. We both expressed frustration and discussed the disappointment that came with these setbacks.

And then something strange happened.

While I was in the city, I received a call from a teacher asking if I was coming for life skills and the girls club that day. I told her no, but I said I'd be there the next week. I called the support group leader, and we arranged a time to meet to discuss how to move ahead with their income-generating chicken project. I attended a results dissemination meeting for a study on the integration of HIV and family-planning services. I discussed the possibility of a meeting with an NGO (nongovernment organization) to work on a mural with the children's support group at my clinic. Suddenly, my dance card was filling up. And you know what? It felt AWESOME.

This was possible because I, like all volunteers, have spent the past year building relationships and working through trial and error. We all experience disappointment and frustration during our service. In this case, it's not because the community doesn't want to work with me -- the people in my village have been great. Sometimes things just happen differently or happen more slowly than I expect. And, it's important for me to remind myself, life here doesn't revolve around me. This community was here long before I got here, and it will remain after I leave. All I can do is try to figure out where I fit into it and do my best to lend a hand.

That said, the year mark is where many volunteers experience a low point. I hope that was mine.

Swazi word of the day: umndeni = family. Umndeni wami = my family.

----

I just finished two books that, coincidentally, dovetailed quite nicely and could have an interesting impact on my service. The first was “The Invisible Cure” by Helen Epstein, and the second was “The Tipping Point” by Malcolm Gladwell. On the second, at least, I’m very late to the party. (This isn’t unusual. I am not what is known as an Early Adopter of trends. See also: Dave Matthews Band, Harry Potter, leggings, “Arrested Development.”)

Epstein’s book discusses how HIV and AIDS have progressed in different African countries. She focuses on Uganda, which has seen the most dramatic decrease in HIV infection rates since the emergence of the virus. Epstein attributes this largely to the “Zero Grazing” campaign. This encouraged Ugandans to decrease their number of sexual partners. Her research suggests that this decrease in partner numbers probably had more of an effect on Uganda’s HIV situation than the use of condoms or encouragement of abstinence.

It is widely acknowledged now that concurrent sexual partnerships are a big contributor to the spread of HIV. Swazis, for example, are much more likely than Americans to have more than one sexual partner at a time. They are not likely to have MORE lifetime partners than an American, but while Americans tend to have serial monogamous relationships, Swazis are likelier to have long-term relationships with more than one partner simultaneously. This is a huge concern when it comes to HIV.

People who contract HIV have large amounts of the virus in their blood – and are much more likely to transmit it – very soon after infection. This often is a period when people are unaware of their HIV status. This means that if you have two partners at the same time and one passes HIV to you, you are much likelier to transmit the virus to your other partner long before you show symptoms. If your second partner has multiple partners as well, she or he could spread it to them without knowing it, and so on and so on until you have a huge ripple effect in a complex network of partnerships. In a situation of serial monogamy, you’re likelier to be with just one partner when you’re infected and then to stay with that partner through that early period of acute infectiousness. By the time you change partners, you’re probably less infectious (or maybe you know your status). This makes for a much slower spread of disease. That was where Zero Grazing came in. The campaign encouraged people to decrease the size of their sexual networks, and this had a huge impact on HIV in Uganda.

Epstein also looks at southern Africa (with a tiny foray into Swaziland). She sees a difference in how HIV and AIDS are discussed. In Uganda, people recognize that family members, friends and neighbors have HIV. In South Africa, in particular, it appears to Epstein that people are much less likely to put a personal face on HIV. Few acknowledge their status openly, and there is less discussion of the realities of living with HIV. Even if people know the facts about HIV, Epstein suggests, they are far less likely to change their behavior if they don’t have a personal story about it. I can’t speak for anyone else, but I have seen this in my community. I have asked people whether there are nationally known spokespeople who are HIV-positive and willing to discuss it. I’ve been told that there were some at the outset of the epidemic, but they seem to be less visible now. Stigma is still an enormous problem. People don’t talk openly about what people die from. Thus HIV remains more of an abstract idea.

I can’t say for sure what impact this reluctance to talk has in Swaziland, but I do think it’s doing some harm. Factors such as gender relations, limited economic opportunities and a false sense of security because of treatment options might also come into play.

From here, we go to Gladwell. “The Tipping Point” is a study of how trends spread in society. These can be trends such as teen smoking or suicide, or they can be trends like a popular pair of shoes. Gladwell argues that word of mouth is perpetuated by a few people, those he calls Connectors, Mavens and Salesmen. If you haven’t read the book, I recommend checking it out. Basically, Gladwell suggests that getting ideas or goods into the hands of the right people is what drives change.

I pondered this in conjunction with Epstein’s book and started to wonder: What is the tipping point for HIV in Swaziland? What can be done to get the idea of prevention, testing and treatment into the hands of the right people? Gladwell mentions hairdressers as useful outlets for spreading breast cancer information in the U.S. Some programs in the developing world have successfully used hair salons to promote female condoms. Could the hairdressers in my community be advocates for condom use or shrinking of partner networks? It’s hard to say, and it’s a bigger question than I can answer. But the two books together opened my mind as far as what I could be doing here. In the coming weeks, I’m going to visit some of the hair salons in my community. Maybe I’ll start by asking if I can put boxes of free condoms – female and male – into the salons. Perhaps I’ll broach the subject of condom demonstrations. And I’ll definitely start asking the women I know where they get their information about sexual health. I might be overlooking some key difference makers in my village.

Will I find any new answers? Will anything really change? I have no idea. It’s an interesting prospect, at any rate. I’ll let you know how it goes.

Salani kahle.

Vacation fun!

Sanibonani, all!

Jack and I just finished a lovely vacation with his family.

Our first stop was Cape Town, where we visited Robben Island. It's a bumpy boat ride out to where the South African government held Nelson Mandela (and many others who fought to end Apartheid) for the bulk of his 27-year prison term.

We lucked out with fabulous weather the first two days. It was too windy for shark diving, unfortunately, but we were able to take the cable car up Table Mountain. The first two photos below are views from that. It's stunning. We also saw the penguins at Boulder Beach and took a beautiful drive down the Cape. It was fabulous.

Our third day brought rain and chill, but we spent it on a winery tour with an excellent guide. That was the perfect icky-day activity (though we missed out on some of the beauty of the area).

From Cape Town, we flew back to Johannesburg and drove to Swaziland. We found time to zipline at Malolotja, where Jack and I camped a few months back. We spent only a night in the Kingdom, however, and were on the road early the next day to head for Kruger National Park. The game reserve is bigger than Swaziland (which, if you recall, is about the size of New Jersey). We stayed at a lovely place called Imbali Safari Lodge. The rooms were beautiful, and hte staff was great. The price included all meals as well as high tea and drinks and snacks on game drives. An early morning and evening game drive were included each day as well.

We saw giraffes, lions (male and female), cheetahs, an ostrich, rhinos, elephants, and all kinds of antelope-type things. Cheetahs are extremely rare; there are only 200  in the whole park. Male lions also are rare. We got very lucky and had a fantastic time.

The end of the trip included more Swaziland time. The Weinsteins met my family. My host dad remembered their name by repeating "wein plus stein" several times. He was welcoming, and he even did a fashion show in different types of traditional Swazi attire. He's quite the showman, lemme tell ya. It was great. The visit also gave the Weinsteins a chance to practice their siSwati. They also got to try chicken dust. The reviews were excellent. We hit up plenty of craft markets, as well as Swazi Candle and Ngwenya Glass.

At Jack's sister Kendra's request, here's the siSwati phrase of the day: "Umuhle namuhla," meaning "You are beautiful today." 

The new Group 11 volunteers are here! I haven't met them yet, but I will have a chance to do so at the Fourth of July party this week. You know what that means: PCVs toting tupperware will descend on the country director's house to eat ALL THE HOT DOGS AND HAMBURGERS. It will be glorious. Yea, America! Happy birthday to you.

The next move will be planning the Mama and Papa T trip, now officially slated for late August. I'm excited to show them the SWZ!

Enjoy these photos (I took none of them), and salani kahle.





Turning 30 in Swaziland

Look forward to my memoir, titled after this post.

J/k.

Greetings from Swaziland, one and all!

I turned 30 today, and naturally I've been thinking about what that "means." I'm delighted to have this milestone birthday in an interesting place, and I'm lucky I can spend it with Jack and some friends. Shenanigans will ensure, I assure you. They will be limited in scope, but they WILL happen.

As I reported to Jack this morning, this is the first birthday I've had where I do feel different. My 20s are over. It's time to get serious.

Or is it?

Peace Corps affords a lot of time to think. Volunteers are frequently alone (or feel alone) and can ponder their futures. I was making a list of goals before 40 -- I can't believe that's my next decade -- and they included some serious things and some fun things. I want to have a satisfying job that allows for some semblance of work life/home life balance. I want to be financially secure.

There are some fun goals as well. I want to learn to juggle. Jack has tried to teach me, but this is one of many coordination-focused activities that do not come naturally to your narrator. I want to learn to sail, and I want to sky dive. I want to have visited six of seven continents. I almost added goals that included activities we have planned for next month in Cape Town, but I thought that would be cheap. Let's make these goals mean something, right?

I also graduated from public health school this month. I am now a MASTER of something, which is exciting. I also now owe the government an uncomfortably large sum of money. There better be some payoff in that Hopkins name (and education). But I'm lucky enough to not have additional debt, so I think I can handle it. Or, I should say, we can handle it. That's right, Jack -- I hope you enjoyed our highfalutin' education.

I was actually a little bit sad not to be able to walk for graduation. I didn't think I would care. It seems like so long ago, but I worked pretty hard last year, and no one called my name or gave me a gold star. I got into an honor society that I think would have allowed me to wear a special thingy over my robe! But that's OK. I'm doing Bono's work in Africa, after all.

The support group I work with is about to go forward with its grant request for funding. They want to start a chicken business to generate income for themselves and their families. I plan to make a video to show y'all what it's all about, and we'll be asking for your financial support. Stay tuned!

Jack's family is visiting in June, and my parents have officially booked tickets for August. We're extremely excited to show off our corner of the continent, and I hope to have some photos for you soon.

Jack and I also are planning our trip for when I COS (close of service) in 2014. We're thinking Victoria Falls, the Serengeti in Tanzania, Madagascar and Mozambique. It gives us a lot to look forward to, though there's still plenty of work to be done.

I'll leave you with a story.

I was waiting for a lift last week from two women. They're working on a study of the integration of family planning and HIV services, and I was going to watch them conduct interviews. We were to meet at a crossroads in a town called Hhelehhele (yes, it might be the greatest town name in the SWZ). They were running late after being caught at a roadblock, and I was tired of sitting in the sun. I wandered over to a stand where a woman was selling fruit. I bought a banana. This woman was large and smiling. She was missing most of her bottom teeth and spoke excellent English.

"Can I give you another?" she asked "Just for being my friend?"

This is not uncommon. Many of the women who sell fruits and vegetables at stands here are outgoing and lovely. She was no exception.

"Of course, thank you," I told her.

We started talking about Obama's upcoming visit to South Africa, and I told her what I was doing in the country. I asked if she had children.

"Yes, I have four," she said. "My one son, he had eight children, from many women. Now he is dead from HIV, and his wife is dead too."

She told me how she cared for three of the grandchildren at home. They go to school, she told me, but they aren't brilliant. I thought about these children with their seven siblings and missing parents. I wondered if their grandmother made enough money to support them. She was selling homemade dish soap. I bought some of that, too.

I stood in the shade of her rickety tin shed and we talked more, about our lives, my parents' upcoming visit and things such as Swazi names. I told her I love that Swazi names mean something. Mine, Nonhlanhla, means lucky. Phindile (I think) means "another girl." Sibusiso means blessing. My favorite is Velaphi, or "where did you come from?"

After an hour, my ride pulled up in the gas station across the street. I told the woman I had to go and thanked her for talking with me.

"I hope you come back and greet me," she said. "You were such a blessing. You made my day."

"You made my day, make (mother)," I told her. I meant it.

I describe this encounter to give you a sense of a typical exchange here. So many people in the Kingdom are outspoken and kind. They talk of their troubles, but most choose not to dwell on them. The vast majority of people I have met are eager to engage in conversation. It really makes me feel at home here.

Now, onward into my 30s.

Salani kahle.

We're excited for you, G11!

Hey, everyone. This post is directed to the incoming Peace Corps trainees of Group 11. One of my favorite blog posts from a G9-er last year was the one with tips for us newcomers (thanks, Rebecca!).

You have about a month left stateside, give or take, and I'm sure you're excited, nervous and uncertain about what to expect. Here are a few tips, tricks, do's and don'ts:

- Eat all the Mexican food you can fit in your belly. You won't get it here unless you make it yourself, and we're all chronically short on black beans. We do have some Chinese, sushi and Indian food, but it's not as good as what you're getting now. Eat all the ethnic food. All of it.

- If you want to mail yourself a package instead of packing everything in bags, go for it. It's not a bad idea. Things you could include in that: cooking spices, hot sauce, sharp knives, an extra book, summer clothes -- small stuff that you'll need eventually but not necessarily immediately. If you do this, however, you'll still have to haul all that stuff from your training village to site. You'll spend two months in a training village with your group before being moved to your permanent village.

- Bring paper, envelopes and/or cards if you want to write letters. You can get all that stuff here, but it's easier during pre-service training if you already have it. For those first two months, you won't have much freedom.

- Peace Corps will tell you to bring $50 in USD to exchange at the airport. Most of us exchanged more than that, and it's not a bad idea to have some extra cash on hand. They take U.S. dollars in Zimbabwe, for example, which might be helpful if you go to Victoria Falls.

- DO remember that you can get a lot of the clothes and toiletries you need over here. Yes, bring your favorite eyeliner if you want it (makeup is expensive here, too), but don't bring 12 skirts or three huge coats. You don't need as much as you think you do. You will probably overpack. Most of us did. You will have to haul those bags around, and it's pretty damn annoying.

- You will get sick of your clothes. Bring things you like, but remember that you'll be hand washing them for two years. They will probably get worn out and might not make it back home.

- Bring media with you! If you have the most recent season of a TV show you like, G10 PCVs will loooooove you. I'm sure we'll love you anyway. But we definitely watch a lot of TV and movies in our downtime. Download a VLC player if you don't have one (you can do that here, too).

- DON'T worry. Tell your family that Swaziland is a reasonably safe place, and Peace Corps is cautious. Once you get here, you'll realize it's not intimidating. Swaziland is a friendly country. Violence and theft occurs but isn't commonplace, especially for volunteers.

- DON'T expect to be out after dark much during the next two years. Volunteers are told to stay on their homesteads at night, and most of us are pretty careful about doing so. This is a key crime-avoidance strategy. Most of your time out in the dark will be spent with other volunteers when you're in town.

- DO bring an updated Africa travel book if you want one. There are a lot floating around the office, but things do change quickly around here. You can also have this mailed to you later. It's nice to have during integration, when you have a lot of hut time that you can spend planning future travel adventures. I didn't have one and wished I had.

- Consider linking up with a teacher friend to correspond with his or her class. Peace Corps has a program connecting volunteers to schools, but sometimes it takes months. Letter writing is a great hut activity, and it's especially fun in your first months, when you're processing everything as new.

- DO think about where you'll want to travel. You get 24 vacation days per year, and there are tons of possibilities. You won't have great Internet access here, so spend some time poking around to get to know the cool spots.

- DO encourage your family and friends to visit. And if you want or need to, you can go home during the next two years.

- If you have a hobby like knitting, bring supplies for that. You will probably have a lot of hut time in the beginning.

- DON'T be afraid to get in touch with current volunteers if there's anything you need to know. There are no stupid questions, I promise.

- DON'T look at Peace Corps as something that requires you to put your life on hold for two years. You'll be living your life for two years -- it will just be significantly more interesting than usual.

Be excited! We're excited to see your smiling faces at the end of June.