Swaziland Families

Gogo-grandmother

Mkhulu-grandfather

Babe-father

Make-mother

Sisi-sister

Bhuti-brother

The list above can define just about every one of the fifty some people who I live with here. I have been trying for 6 months now to figure out how I am related to some of the people on my homestead, and still have not been able to. While at home we have siblings, cousins, stepparents, adoptive parents, neighbors, and friends here the lines are much more blurred. Swazi culture in general, is much more inclusive to all relations. Your parents’ siblings’ children are your bosisi and bobhuti. The adult who takes care of you is your babe or make no matter if you are related or not. Your father’s brother is your babe too, and any woman old enough is your gogo. The culture here is less worried about how you are related and more worried that you are taken care of.

I was talking to another volunteer about my friend who takes care of her kids and her husband’s kids, who were born during his marriage to another woman. My friend’s first question was if the kids that are not biologically the woman’s children are treated differently. It’s a fair question, but I never even knew they were not all her children until I met the other woman, and was told afterwards that she was the mom of a boy I had thought was my friend’s.

Some of the kids in my Swazi family

Many young men and women here are dating two, three, or four people simultaneously, the traditional marriages mean the brothers and sisters you grow up with could easily be from a different wife, and cheating while married is common, while divorce is unheard of. The other factor is so many people who had children died before ARV’s were introduced here or have died since, and their children have been adopted into their neighbors’, aunts’, or cousins’ families.  These different mores mean when I ask how I’m related to a person who I know did not come from my babe or either of my makes I am still told it is my bhuti. In some ways this is the best outcome for all of these blended families. If you really take the time it is possible to figure out who was born to whom, but in Swaziland no one but myself and the other foreigners care.

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Books for Africa

We have an annual partnership with Books for Africa, an organization that ships books to start or improve libraries around the continent. As I wrote about earlier, my school did not get books this year, but as I am on the board for my group I still got to help out in other ways. Instead of just handing out books we include a librarian workshop to train our Swazi counterparts on how to start, manage, and maintain a library. I completely took for granted the education we get at a young age not only just having a library at school, but having someone to explain fiction and nonfiction, the parts of a book, and how to find books in the library.

Our first day of sessions the room we had reserved for 8am had a church service in it that did not end until 8:20, and by the time we set up everything were already running behind. After that snafu, everything went much smoother. We had two days on everything from cataloguing to mending spines, and at the end of it got a lot of positive feedback. It was interesting, though, our speaker spent an entire session on library rules highlighting all the way kids will mess up the library. He suggested checking backpacks for weapons before they enter the library, and ensuring girls are dressed appropriately so they don’t encourage harassment. The relationship between book borrowers here versus at home is clearly going to be different.

After our last session I ran to Mbabane where we had an embassy versus Peace Corps volleyball tournament. We did not do so well, but had a fun time. It felt like home being around Americans and playing a sport other than soccer.

The Quiet Life

Swazi campaign posters

My next couple days were spent moving furniture in my house, then moving it again, and moving it again. I have no concept of space and could not figure out the best place for things just by looking. My babe’s sister (so my host aunt?) was visiting the homestead so I got to spend one of the cold days inside with everyone ,drinking Swazi tea, different from other tea because it is so saturated with sugar there’s a good inch of un-dissolved granules when you finish, and nodding vigorously whenever I heard my name. I figured out later the event was to bless the new house my family is building, I had assumed it was a birthday. It was quite the production for a strip of land; later in the day a large group of men from the community came over to see the land, or maybe help bless it, I am clearly soaking in the culture here.

I got to see sorghum being ground by hand when I went to sit with my family. Both of my makes had large flat stones they were using to grind the grain into a powder, and somehow the whole process gives off the smell of freshly baked bread. When I am not playing Tetris with my furniture or sitting with my family I read, a lot. I’m not entirely sure if it’s possible to read too much, but if it has not been achieved yet I may be the first to over-read.

The hours drag by here, but the days fly. I stopped wearing my watch in my house because I check it too frequently, but every time I look at the date I cannot believe how quickly it is going. Day 1, week 1, month 1 have all snuck past without fanfare. I started a compost pile and quickly learned mountains of thorns will not detract hungry goats. Throwing rocks does, but only temporarily.

Side note: I was able to switch houses on the same homestead.  While my new house still has its bugs and other “minor” issues, it is certainly an upgrade!

Old House

New House

I got to go on another shopping trip and bought supplies for further home improvement. I may have hand sized tarantulas and hoards of ants in my room, but I am determined to make it homey. I managed to gerry-rig a makeshift closet from a plank I sawed (by hand!) and some rope hanging from the rafters. Along with my new found adult qualities I now wake up between 4-4:30 am…without an alarm. I understand for most people that is not impressive, but considering I have a propensity to sleep in as late as possible at home, even with an alarm, I consider it an achievement. I’ve started using this time to workout which is nice, but when it’s only 6am and babe sees me red faced and sweaty I have to learn a new vocab word-exercising. As in, I am not sick, I am exercising, in my house, which swazis have never heard of. They may think I am just naturally the color of a beet in the morning.

This is my handcrafted closet contraption.  I am very proud of my skills. 

An American Girl With a New Years Resolution

I never thought my most meaningful relationship would be with someone born in 1961. Yet, Thursday I happily celebrated my six-month anniversary with the Peace Corps. I hit the quarter mark of my service and the new year, prompting the question “what will you resolve this year?” I find myself looking back instead of forward. The obligatory lists of resolutions and goals have been circulated across my Facebook newsfeed and for once they do not make me feel inadequate. I did not make any resolutions last year, and yet seem to have hit many common resolutions that show up on a number of lists.

2013: Live abroad-check, quit your job-check, keep a journal-checl, adopt a pet-check, change your hair-check (I tried and failed to go blonde), start working out more-check, make new friends-check, learn a new language-check, allow yourself to be selfish-check, write a real letter – check, face a fear – check, and the lists go on. Somehow, without really trying, Peace Corps has helped me accomplish a healthy portion of common goals. The past half a year (and really the months of preparation leading up to it) has given me the time to better myself that I would never have had working a 9 to 5 job in the US. This year instead of looking at deficiencies in my life I am happy to instead appreciate my accomplishments thus far. I have finally learned to focus on the check marks rather than the empty boxes.

With new friends celebrating an early Christmas

If there is one lesson I have learned that I can share for the New Year; notice your own envy. When I saw everyone getting jobs after college and settling down with new relationships and apartments it made me more panicked than covetous. Instead, it was the people who had taken a year off, moved to a new country, not worrying about what people expected their career to look like that made that little pang of jealousy resonate. The most telling emotion I have found is the little green flash when you hear good news from someone. What part of what they said appeals to you, and how can you learn from that? So my resolution for this coming year is simple: be jealous. Notice what you are jealous of, congratulate that person, and learn from them. Channeling this emotion has led me to find what makes me truly happy, and appreciating people doing great things rather than resenting them has allowed me to benefit from their success. While you are doing that, help those who have a reason to be envious of you.

While I miss my family and friends at home, I could not be happier to greet 2014 here in Swaziland. So my simple advice for the new year for all of my fellow Americans back home is, if you are feeling a little jealous of those around you as the ball drops, resolve to ask how they do it.

Thankful for all the packages and letters I get from my loved ones back home

Being a “deviled egg” for halloween

 

P.S. If you want to ring in the New Year by helping create a library for my grade school to be proud of (and maybe inspire other schools jealousy?), please see the link below. We are raising money to create 30 libraries across Swaziland to promote literacy, English proficiency, and all the wonderful benefits literature has to offer. https://donate.peacecorps.gov/index.cfm?shell=donate.contribute.projDetail&projdesc=14-645-001

 

One of the kids I live with who will get to use the library you can help build.

On the Job Training

The next morning I woke up and was sitting outside writing when my host make comes up holding a rooster, I was so happy it was a rooster because I know they are too stringy to eat so whatever she was saying it was not asking me to kill another chicken. She kept gesturing to it and asking if I liked it so I said yes, and she looked happy walked away, and slaughtered it….Apparently, some people do eat the roosters.

How I do my cooking now

I sat with babe and make as they plucked and cooked the chicken, which is a bloody task and not my favorite. I was pleasantly surprised babe sat with us in the cooking hut, as some Swazi men think cooking is a woman’s job. We finished

cooking and ate the rooster for breakfast, which was not exactly what I was craving for breakfast, but such is life. My SSA had said she’d come and meet me at 9am to show me around the community, which in Swaziland translated to 10:30. We walked and saw the clinic, school, hair salon and little store that sells very basic staples and the tour was complete. It is a very small community. We went to the kagogo center (literally “Grandmas’ center” which serves as a community center) and I met my SSA’s business partners. I was a little confused why they were pouring peanuts into buckets, but just sat and watched. All of a sudden they said “ok let’s go catch the bus,” but I did not want to leave since I only had a day to get to know my community. I tried to explain I was supposed to talk to people and see as much as possible, but did not really have any power since I could not refuse to go and be left alone. So, we all hopped on the bus to the next biggest city and carried the peanuts to a World Vision center where you can pay to use a peanut grinder. They all set to work, each having their own task of cleaning, sorting, or organizing to prepare to make peanut butter. I just sat there uselessly and watched. It is pretty cool they just add oil and salt to the peanuts and grind it into little plastic containers. It’s sugar free, organic, and natural; everything health food stores overcharge for at home. The smell of the peanuts being ground was amazing, so overall it was not a bad day even though I did not really get to accomplish what I was supposed to during the day. That night I ate dinner with the family, and was so exhausted from barely sleeping the night before coupled with no electricity and sunset at 6pm that I fell asleep very early. With the limited transport, I had to leave at 7am the next morning which was unfortunate because I wanted to spend more time in the community and with my family.

Making Peanut Homemade Peanut Butter

Peace Corps organizes someone from the group of volunteers that has been there a year already to host you for the last night of OJT and show you around your shopping town. I stayed with one other girl from my group and a G10 volunteer who is blessedly close to my site if I ever feel the need to speak to an American. We saw my shopping town, where we ground the peanuts, which has 2 little stores, bomake stand which sell fruits and vegetables, and a hardware store as its main amenities. Things could be worse, there’s no internet nearby, but all my basic needs are met. It was really nice being able to talk to someone who has already braved their first year and can give advice and answer questions PC staff cannot.

The next morning the 3 of us took a khumbi into Manzini where our G10 host showed us around, which was more than she had to do. It was great to get a tour of spots we might not find on our own; cheapest internet café, best coffee, post office, etc… and to get a feel for where things are. We all had lunch and headed back to the bus rank to go home.

The next couple weeks I was feeling sick whether from stress or something I ate during OJT I’m not sure. A lot of the days I just slept 12 hours, attended training, and slept some more. It was not the highlight of PST.