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.

Writing a letter to me

On Aug. 22 of last year, Peace Corps had me write a letter to myself. They planned to return that letter to me in a year's time. Here, my friends, is the content of that letter:

"Hey, future Blythe,

I hope you have left your hut every day since you moved in. Keep in mind that you're here to DO SOMETHING but that you won't always know or see what you've done. I bet you've read 50 books by now, at least. Remember that you wanted to keep reading public health journal articles? How's that working out for you? No time like the present to start, am I right?

Give my best to Jack. Remember that he's here for you -- he rearranged his whole life around your plans. That's pretty special.

Think of who your friends are. Who's your best friend in (your village)? How did you meet him or her? What goals do you still have that you haven't met?

Keep in mind that 20 years from now, you won't remember the days you spent alone in your hut. You'll remember the days you spent out and about in (your village), meeting people and working with them. I hope the clinic staff is supportive, and I hope you've been able to work with the schools.

When you're having a hard time, remember "A League of Their Own": "It's supposed to be hard. If it were easy, everyone would do it." That is 100 percent true of Peace Corps. One hundred percent.

Keep fighting the good fight, girl.

XO,
B"

This letter made me smile. A lot of volunteers said their letters made them sad or disappointed. Many had listed accomplishments they'd hoped to achieve by the time a year came to pass. I don't think I had any special insight at the time, but I remember trying to keep in mind the advice I received about expectations: Try to avoid having any. A year in, I can name my best friend in town and how I met her. The clinic staff HAS been supportive. It IS awesome that Jack's here. And, yes, I've slacked off in reading public health journal articles.

Do I know myself, or what?

I will note that my "A League of Their Own" quote is slightly off, but I was working from memory. Sue me.

That said, I think the letter was all right. And I suppose it's even better that it didn't make me feel like a schlub -- at least not any more than usual.

---

It's come to my attention that maybe I should write a bit more about my parents' visit.

Highlights:

- They stayed at a hotel near the Joburg airport and had no problems (aside from an expected wake-up call that never came). No one was kidnapped or stabbed. Success from the beginning! AND they had to leave their luggage at the aiport overnight, and it was safe! No one could believe that. H/T to Delta on that one, I think.

- We stayed at a place called Notten's Bush Camp outside Kruger in the Sabi Sand Reserve. It's not *technically* Kruger, but it had come highly recommended. It was expensive but worth it. The food was absolutely amazing, and the staff was top-notch. The overall experience was just incredible. It doesn't hurt that all drinks were included. First and only time I'll see Papa T with a fancy Scotch? Only time will tell.

- The place we stayed in St. Lucia, Parker Cottages, also was amazing. We knew this from experience. It's run by a fantastic guy, and every room they have is lovely. Totally recommend it if you ever find your way to the eastern coast of South Africa.

- On my homestead, Babe again went through a couple of costume changes to show the fam different traditional Swazi apparel. He and my parents were able to talk cows and corn. We shot a lot of photos, and my parents were able to see how I live. I think they walked away feeling more comfortable about my safety.

- We went to the Swazi cultural village, which was a real hit. Jack was called up to learn the dance with the ladies, which was awesome. Mama T has threatened to send the footage to the KU alumni magazine. I, of course, fully support this plan.

I wouldn't say there were any lowlights, if that's a thing, but I did almost get charged by a warthog. It was outside my parents' room at Notten's, and I was trying to sneak around it to call them to come outside and look. The hog knew I was there the whole time. This was apparently not enough reassurance, though, so at one point it turned and took a few fast and scary steps my way. Jack caught it on video, so I'm hoping he can post it soon. You will also note that he backs away quickly. Oh, my knight in shining armor.

Just kidding. I probably would not jump in front of a charging warthog for him, either.

The whole thing was kind of amazing.

---

In hut news, my bats have breached the perimeter and actually entered the hut. We're trying to figure out a solution to this problem, but it turns out it's not easy to humanely remove bats. And when they're in the ceiling, you don't just want to kill 'em and let 'em rot up there. So ... we'll see how we go. They might outlast me in the hut.

Salani kahle!

Parents' visit!

Hey, team America,

My parents visited, and it was lovely! We went to Kruger in South Africa and to St. Lucia, where weather foiled us in our attempt to see whales. BUT we saw some awesome animals and had a grand time.

We stayed three nights in Kruger, two of which we spent at an amazing all-inclusive spot. We went on four game drives. On the last one, we saw a leopard (which my dad spotted down the road) and a male lion. We also saw a fair number of baby animals, including two baby rhinos. Check out the mad photo action below.

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.