... in that when she would come visit me, my African parents would say, "Your daughter is here to see you."
Isn't she gorgeous? The little guy in the background I tried to shoo away to no avail. I'm glad I didn't succeed: he really adds to the character of the photo.
I'm trying to figure this whole "post photos on my blog" thing. I had hoped I could have albums posted (in the same way that Facebook allows). So far, I've only discovered how to post one at a time. Bear with me and I hope to figure it out.
A bit more on Dimakatso. (DEE mah kot so). I love this little girl. She is very sweet and kind. My Mma Emily would invite her over to dance for me. I was very uncomfortable with the sexually suggestive nature of the dance (she is only 10 years old) and would wince when Mma called her to come. Often times, girls would come in groups to dance for me. Again, the nature of the dancing, for such young girls, was unsettling.
I often wondered if Mma would call the girls to come dance, because really SHE wanted to dance and sing. At gift giving occasions and handing out of sweets she often behaved in a way I thought immature. It was gently pointed out to me that my host mother was probably married around the age of 10-12 and if so, how emotionally matured could she have become? Good point.
Now, back to figuring out photo postings. More in a bit, karen/molebogeng
Monday, September 21, 2009
Friday, September 18, 2009
My go go Mma Rosina, her daughter...
Mma Leina, and her grandson, Kazer (KA suh).It is not uncommon for women to birth children and the child is then raised by the woman's mother. So, to put it in American terms, if I had a child, my mother would raise him/her. How would you like that, mom?
It's official... and why South Africa is a stretch part two
I'm a Peace Corps Volunteer. I was sworn in yesterday and my official "two years" begins today.
Happy Birthday mom! I'll call you later, after you wake up, (as it's 2:00 in the morning for you and 9:00 am for me!) because, I have a phone, I have a phone, I have a phone! I hated cell phones in the States but I LOVE HAVING A CELL PHONE IN SA! I think I love it so because it feels like an umbilical cord to the rest of the world.
Thanks to all of you for dealing with another login for my blog. I know it's a pain, but it is so much fun for me to read ALL OF THE COMMENTS. Reading them always makes me cry. There is no such thing as trivial news from home, all of it feels like nourishment for my spirit.
I'm at the college. I'm sorry my last post about my host-family stay was so negative. I think we were all beginning to get on each other's nerves. At one point, at listening to my family chatter loudly in the other room, I thought to myself, "This is why I moved out of the house from my OWN family." I think I need a bit more space than the average person.
But I loved my time with my host-family, and they are now, and will always be, my African family. They called me last night to make sure I had arrived to the college safely. I have some great photos of them, their home, and the village. I'll post them soon as I now have regular computer time. YAY!
Now, the other half of why I'm having a challenging time adjusting to South Africa.
Personal appearance is everything here. EVERYTHING.
A little background on me, for those who need a refresher. Very much to Deanna's chagrin, I care extremely little about what I look like.
I hate to dress up. HATE IT. My "professional attire" consists of blouses and dresspants. I also tend to buy colors of only brown and black so everything matches. I hate spending any time or worry about what I'm wearing. In fact, my biggest fear is to wear the same thing two days in a row. :-)
So why is this a problem in South Africa?
Everyone dresses to the nines here. Suits, dresses, hosiery, pumps, hair, make up, jewelry, the whole shebang.
I guess this wouldn't be so bad if I lived in a climate whereby there was anything but dust and handy access to washing machines.
That's the thing: as far as I can tell, everyone is handwashing their clothes and polishing their shoes. Are they handwashing those business suits? And everyone IRONS. I hate ironing and haven't even owned an iron for most of my adult life.
And polishing shoes? I don't even know how to polish shoes. My host-father had to show me. So now, on the regular occasion of polishing my shoes, I wonder what my dads would thing. Would they be proud? :-)
While the Peace Corps urges us to try our best to "fit in" with the expectations of our culture, it also stresses the importance of "remaining true to ourselves." I think I'm going to need to be true to my blouses/dresspants and hope the people can come to accept that. And no, I'm not wearing make up and no earrings either.
My host family gave me this beautiful African necklace that I wear on special occasions. And I can honestly say that I'd love to have a few of the beautiful African garments I've seen. Maybe by the time I arrive home again I'll be all colorful in African garb. Miracles happen.
I'm at the college now and for good. Did I mention this already?
I arrived about 5:00 yesterday (Thursday, 9/17). I spent most of the evening cleaning and unpacking. The room is very nice and I'm happy to be here.
As one who seeks solitude and quiet, it may take me awhile to get used to the hustle and bustle of the kids on campus as they happen about after classes. I didn't have the "dorm experience" in my college years (I commuted) so it is quite boisterous.
When I first arrived in Africa and moved into my home-stay in the village, I was startled by the constant crowing of roosters. (Other Americans commented on this as well.) I'm not sure why American roosters seem to only crow at dawn (or is this a myth?) and African ones around the clock (but especially at three in the morning). As startling as it was at first, after a few weeks, I never noticed them crowing again. I must have become accustomed to their calls.
I'm hoping this will be the case for the college kids as well.
I'm going to close for now and perhaps even logon to Facebook! (I haven't in ages!) I'm so happy to have regular access to a computer now and look forward to more regular communication. I really have felt lost without you all, and Deanna can attest to sitting on the phone with me while I cried for nearly a half hour just because it was so good to speak with family. It's amazing the emotional bonds we carry.
As always, Peace Corps accepts no responsibility for anything I've mentioned here. All error, interpretation, misinterpretation are mine.
Soon, Karen/Molebogeng
Happy Birthday mom! I'll call you later, after you wake up, (as it's 2:00 in the morning for you and 9:00 am for me!) because, I have a phone, I have a phone, I have a phone! I hated cell phones in the States but I LOVE HAVING A CELL PHONE IN SA! I think I love it so because it feels like an umbilical cord to the rest of the world.
Thanks to all of you for dealing with another login for my blog. I know it's a pain, but it is so much fun for me to read ALL OF THE COMMENTS. Reading them always makes me cry. There is no such thing as trivial news from home, all of it feels like nourishment for my spirit.
I'm at the college. I'm sorry my last post about my host-family stay was so negative. I think we were all beginning to get on each other's nerves. At one point, at listening to my family chatter loudly in the other room, I thought to myself, "This is why I moved out of the house from my OWN family." I think I need a bit more space than the average person.
But I loved my time with my host-family, and they are now, and will always be, my African family. They called me last night to make sure I had arrived to the college safely. I have some great photos of them, their home, and the village. I'll post them soon as I now have regular computer time. YAY!
Now, the other half of why I'm having a challenging time adjusting to South Africa.
Personal appearance is everything here. EVERYTHING.
A little background on me, for those who need a refresher. Very much to Deanna's chagrin, I care extremely little about what I look like.
I hate to dress up. HATE IT. My "professional attire" consists of blouses and dresspants. I also tend to buy colors of only brown and black so everything matches. I hate spending any time or worry about what I'm wearing. In fact, my biggest fear is to wear the same thing two days in a row. :-)
So why is this a problem in South Africa?
Everyone dresses to the nines here. Suits, dresses, hosiery, pumps, hair, make up, jewelry, the whole shebang.
I guess this wouldn't be so bad if I lived in a climate whereby there was anything but dust and handy access to washing machines.
That's the thing: as far as I can tell, everyone is handwashing their clothes and polishing their shoes. Are they handwashing those business suits? And everyone IRONS. I hate ironing and haven't even owned an iron for most of my adult life.
And polishing shoes? I don't even know how to polish shoes. My host-father had to show me. So now, on the regular occasion of polishing my shoes, I wonder what my dads would thing. Would they be proud? :-)
While the Peace Corps urges us to try our best to "fit in" with the expectations of our culture, it also stresses the importance of "remaining true to ourselves." I think I'm going to need to be true to my blouses/dresspants and hope the people can come to accept that. And no, I'm not wearing make up and no earrings either.
My host family gave me this beautiful African necklace that I wear on special occasions. And I can honestly say that I'd love to have a few of the beautiful African garments I've seen. Maybe by the time I arrive home again I'll be all colorful in African garb. Miracles happen.
I'm at the college now and for good. Did I mention this already?
I arrived about 5:00 yesterday (Thursday, 9/17). I spent most of the evening cleaning and unpacking. The room is very nice and I'm happy to be here.
As one who seeks solitude and quiet, it may take me awhile to get used to the hustle and bustle of the kids on campus as they happen about after classes. I didn't have the "dorm experience" in my college years (I commuted) so it is quite boisterous.
When I first arrived in Africa and moved into my home-stay in the village, I was startled by the constant crowing of roosters. (Other Americans commented on this as well.) I'm not sure why American roosters seem to only crow at dawn (or is this a myth?) and African ones around the clock (but especially at three in the morning). As startling as it was at first, after a few weeks, I never noticed them crowing again. I must have become accustomed to their calls.
I'm hoping this will be the case for the college kids as well.
I'm going to close for now and perhaps even logon to Facebook! (I haven't in ages!) I'm so happy to have regular access to a computer now and look forward to more regular communication. I really have felt lost without you all, and Deanna can attest to sitting on the phone with me while I cried for nearly a half hour just because it was so good to speak with family. It's amazing the emotional bonds we carry.
As always, Peace Corps accepts no responsibility for anything I've mentioned here. All error, interpretation, misinterpretation are mine.
Soon, Karen/Molebogeng
Friday, September 11, 2009
South Africa: why it's a stretch...
South African culture is VERY different from the one I experience in America. I have a hard time trying to make it all work for me and am hoping at some point I “get it.” So far, I’m sinking with it. South Africans don’t communicate directly. What exactly does this mean? Let me see if I can explain it a bit.
For example, I was told on Friday last week:“The car will pick you up at 9:00 am on Monday morning to drive you to Vryburg so that you can meet with other volunteers to travel to Pretoria.” In my mind, it meant, be ready at 9:00 on Monday morning so that my ride will have me in town on time to make this trip to Pretoria work. (We were given an “assignment” by PC to travel to Pretoria as a group so we get the feel of it before we try it on our own.)
On Monday morning at 9:00 am, I’m standing on my stoop with my bags packed waiting for my ride. At 9:08, I’m wondering if I’m in the right spot. At 9:10, I’m heading for the office because 10 minutes of my 30 minute trip to Vryburg are gone and I’m to be in Vryburg at 9:30. At 9:12 or so, I arrive at the office whereby I try to find out where my ride is. I’m not full-blown panicked yet, but am close.
The first person I ask invites me to sit down and have a chat. When I remain standing and point to my watch, the nice lady looks perplexed and proceeds to ask someone else. The someone else very patiently tells me I need to sign the register. Sign the register? I’m asking a question. No, please sign the register and note when you arrive and when you leave. So, I sign the register in at 9:20, and out as 9:21. Where is my ride?
As I try to explain that a ride has been arranged, person after person tells me they no nothing of it. I’m in full blown panic by the time an American arrives to my aid who quickly announces, “Urgency will get you no where here.” She was right. Urgency got me nowhere.
I finally arrived in Vryburg an hour late, and my traveling group was delayed by 2 hours, and we arrived in Pretoria too late to make it to Marypane, so we overnighted at a Pretoria Backpackers.
This is a pretty involved example, but it can be as small as, “Would you like tea?” If you reply yes to this question, and are the youngest woman in the house at the time, you’re expected to “make tea,” which is really making tea, coffee, and egg sandwiches for everyone in the household.
So, why is this a big deal? Well, I’ve personally spent many dollars in personal counseling whereby I learned that this type of communication is dysfunctional and one can’t function appropriately in it. Welcome to South Africa. Their whole culture is BASED UPON INDIRECT COMMUNICATION. That’s why I’m having a hard time.
But I jump ahead of myself.
Hello everyone, I'm back to training after a week's visit to my permanent site. Ok you guys w/ the google maps, I'm not telling the location exactly, b/c I don't think we're supposed to on a blog. Those of you needing my address/phone (YES, I HAVE A PHONE--FINALLY), the "heavy hitters" have it: family.
Ok, so site was great and I'll be fine. Everyone hates me b/c I'll have a flush toilet, kitchent, etc. In fact, I hate me. :-)
It'll be great. The campus has internet so I'll be in contact regularly, will be able to post pics, etc. I'm a lucky, lucky girl.
I'll be working with the college, of course, and a primary school for sure. There's also a secondary school I have my eye on and hope to be involved with community projects as well.
THERE IS A COMMUNITY GARDEN! I'm thrilled. One of the other trainees has already gifted me with marigold seeds (a favorite).
I think I'm mostly glad to be going somewhere I can finally unpack. I'm such a bad traveller.
I feel a bit nervous about coming in behind a leaving PC volunteer. She's a powerhouse dynamo--it's awestriking to see all that she's accomplished. I'm going to try not to worry too much...
What else...
I'm online instead of studying for my Setswana test. It's today at 2:00-2:30. I guess you guys are still in bed, or are just getting up (it's lunchtime here). I'm sick of studying and am thinking, "If I don't know it well enough, too bad.)
So, it takes awhile for internet to load here, so while I was waiting for the blog to load, I read some of the comments. It is always, ALWAYS good to hear from everyone at home, but it was a treat to hear from Deanna's brother in Atlanta: Hi John!
I so miss my family. I knew I would. I miss deciduous trees, lakes, rivers, GRASS. :-)
I'm sure I'll fall in love with Africa and that my falling in love will sneak up on me.
So, my dad and his wife vacationed in South Africa a year or so ago. She brought home a GAJILLION photos of South African sunsets. Now I know why. The South African sky is the most beautiful I've ever seen. Each and every sunset is picture-perfect. The night-time sky takes my breath away everytime I look up.
Oh, and there is no daylight savings time here. :-)
The sun rises about 6:30 am and sets about 6:30 pm. I'm glad of this, because somewhere along the line I turned into an "early to bed, early to rise" kind of girl.
My hair. Many of you know that I debated over cutting my hair or not before leaving. Boy, I sure wish I didn't have this mess with me. It is such a pain to wash in a basin. Ick. I hate it. But I'm still hanging on to it. More than one person has said that long hair provides natural insulation against the heat once it gets here. And it's getting here!
Coffee. (I guess I'm having random thoughts here.) They have this ridiculous drink here called "Ricoffy" and it is manufactured by Nestle (or maybe Nescafe). The first three ingredients listed on the label are three forms of sugar: dextrose, sucrose, fructose followed by "and the highest quality water soluable parts of select coffee beans." Yes, I'm drinking tea.
More on SA culture.
I've had some interesting discussions with my home-stay host father. One involved his opinion on my children. Although he's happy about my having two sons, he thinks I lag behind the ideal of 10 children and that I should have at least 3 more. (Although 10 is the ideal, he'll settle for 5). When I offer up that I'm 46, no matter. He knows of a woman in China that is 91 and still child bearning. When I mention the cost, he states this is for God to decide. At this point the question of "do you want to be right or happy" weighed in on the happy side, and I didn't mention anything about family planning or women's reproductive rights in America, or the fact that I didn't feel I did a very good job the first time around.
There was also great concern on why I was sleeping with my sleeping bag instead of using the family linen. Well, even before the scorpion escapade, I was using my sleeping bag because it reminded me of home. This explanation was completely unacceptable, but here again, I resolved to be happy rather than explain, and used it until recently (when it has started getting too hot and besides, I left it at my permanent site).
One day, somewhat early on, I had discovered a handkerchief in my suitcase that I had overlooked so it hadn't been laundered in Africa yet. I smelled of the handkerchief and was so overwelmed with the smell that I was quite distracted for a bit. It smelled of home. I must have closed my eyes and breathed in heavily because when I opened my eyes, the whole family was staring at me and asked what was wrong.
It's amazing what a fragrance can do.
We had a workshop detailing the emotions of Peace Corps volunteers. Apparently, the first 6 months are very difficult and the training is nothing short of an emotional roller coaster ride. It was helpful to know that I'm right where I'm supposed to be, emotionally, even if it is rather distressing.
I reviewed my journal last night and although there is a lot of writing, there are a few intances of :
I hate Africa.
I hate Americans.
I hate Setswana.
I hate English.
There are many better days, I'm happy to report.
Just another bit on language, then I really do, need to go study my language.
I suck at learning a foreign language. It is the most difficult thing for me to do. When I do it, I have to lock myself away in a room, make flash cards, do study sheets, etc. It is horrifically difficult for me. I almost didn't earn my Master's Degree because it took me FOUR tries to pass my foreign language proficiency test.
So, my host family thinks I should pick up Setswana by hearing them speak it to me. So, they say a phrase, the odd sounds glance off of my gray matter, and I have no idea what was said. So they repeat it LOUDER. The African people are very passionate and very demonstrative. After a few evenings of feeling shouted at, I retreated to my room and have basically disappeared. Needless to say, I haven't had a lot of practice SPEAKING the language, but hopefully I've memorized enough to muddle through. Will know in a bit.
Btw, science has shown that there is a "critical period" whereby if a child learns an additional language by the time or around the time that they are TWELVE OR THIRTEEN years old, they have a good chance of becomming fluent. Need I remind anyone that I'm 46 years old?
Ok, nuff for now, I'm off to it.
As always, PC is not responsible or in anyway connected, supportive of, etc., anything that is posted here. All thoughts, feelings, interpretations, misinterpretations, are mine!
Missing you all, more than you can know! k
For example, I was told on Friday last week:“The car will pick you up at 9:00 am on Monday morning to drive you to Vryburg so that you can meet with other volunteers to travel to Pretoria.” In my mind, it meant, be ready at 9:00 on Monday morning so that my ride will have me in town on time to make this trip to Pretoria work. (We were given an “assignment” by PC to travel to Pretoria as a group so we get the feel of it before we try it on our own.)
On Monday morning at 9:00 am, I’m standing on my stoop with my bags packed waiting for my ride. At 9:08, I’m wondering if I’m in the right spot. At 9:10, I’m heading for the office because 10 minutes of my 30 minute trip to Vryburg are gone and I’m to be in Vryburg at 9:30. At 9:12 or so, I arrive at the office whereby I try to find out where my ride is. I’m not full-blown panicked yet, but am close.
The first person I ask invites me to sit down and have a chat. When I remain standing and point to my watch, the nice lady looks perplexed and proceeds to ask someone else. The someone else very patiently tells me I need to sign the register. Sign the register? I’m asking a question. No, please sign the register and note when you arrive and when you leave. So, I sign the register in at 9:20, and out as 9:21. Where is my ride?
As I try to explain that a ride has been arranged, person after person tells me they no nothing of it. I’m in full blown panic by the time an American arrives to my aid who quickly announces, “Urgency will get you no where here.” She was right. Urgency got me nowhere.
I finally arrived in Vryburg an hour late, and my traveling group was delayed by 2 hours, and we arrived in Pretoria too late to make it to Marypane, so we overnighted at a Pretoria Backpackers.
This is a pretty involved example, but it can be as small as, “Would you like tea?” If you reply yes to this question, and are the youngest woman in the house at the time, you’re expected to “make tea,” which is really making tea, coffee, and egg sandwiches for everyone in the household.
So, why is this a big deal? Well, I’ve personally spent many dollars in personal counseling whereby I learned that this type of communication is dysfunctional and one can’t function appropriately in it. Welcome to South Africa. Their whole culture is BASED UPON INDIRECT COMMUNICATION. That’s why I’m having a hard time.
But I jump ahead of myself.
Hello everyone, I'm back to training after a week's visit to my permanent site. Ok you guys w/ the google maps, I'm not telling the location exactly, b/c I don't think we're supposed to on a blog. Those of you needing my address/phone (YES, I HAVE A PHONE--FINALLY), the "heavy hitters" have it: family.
Ok, so site was great and I'll be fine. Everyone hates me b/c I'll have a flush toilet, kitchent, etc. In fact, I hate me. :-)
It'll be great. The campus has internet so I'll be in contact regularly, will be able to post pics, etc. I'm a lucky, lucky girl.
I'll be working with the college, of course, and a primary school for sure. There's also a secondary school I have my eye on and hope to be involved with community projects as well.
THERE IS A COMMUNITY GARDEN! I'm thrilled. One of the other trainees has already gifted me with marigold seeds (a favorite).
I think I'm mostly glad to be going somewhere I can finally unpack. I'm such a bad traveller.
I feel a bit nervous about coming in behind a leaving PC volunteer. She's a powerhouse dynamo--it's awestriking to see all that she's accomplished. I'm going to try not to worry too much...
What else...
I'm online instead of studying for my Setswana test. It's today at 2:00-2:30. I guess you guys are still in bed, or are just getting up (it's lunchtime here). I'm sick of studying and am thinking, "If I don't know it well enough, too bad.)
So, it takes awhile for internet to load here, so while I was waiting for the blog to load, I read some of the comments. It is always, ALWAYS good to hear from everyone at home, but it was a treat to hear from Deanna's brother in Atlanta: Hi John!
I so miss my family. I knew I would. I miss deciduous trees, lakes, rivers, GRASS. :-)
I'm sure I'll fall in love with Africa and that my falling in love will sneak up on me.
So, my dad and his wife vacationed in South Africa a year or so ago. She brought home a GAJILLION photos of South African sunsets. Now I know why. The South African sky is the most beautiful I've ever seen. Each and every sunset is picture-perfect. The night-time sky takes my breath away everytime I look up.
Oh, and there is no daylight savings time here. :-)
The sun rises about 6:30 am and sets about 6:30 pm. I'm glad of this, because somewhere along the line I turned into an "early to bed, early to rise" kind of girl.
My hair. Many of you know that I debated over cutting my hair or not before leaving. Boy, I sure wish I didn't have this mess with me. It is such a pain to wash in a basin. Ick. I hate it. But I'm still hanging on to it. More than one person has said that long hair provides natural insulation against the heat once it gets here. And it's getting here!
Coffee. (I guess I'm having random thoughts here.) They have this ridiculous drink here called "Ricoffy" and it is manufactured by Nestle (or maybe Nescafe). The first three ingredients listed on the label are three forms of sugar: dextrose, sucrose, fructose followed by "and the highest quality water soluable parts of select coffee beans." Yes, I'm drinking tea.
More on SA culture.
I've had some interesting discussions with my home-stay host father. One involved his opinion on my children. Although he's happy about my having two sons, he thinks I lag behind the ideal of 10 children and that I should have at least 3 more. (Although 10 is the ideal, he'll settle for 5). When I offer up that I'm 46, no matter. He knows of a woman in China that is 91 and still child bearning. When I mention the cost, he states this is for God to decide. At this point the question of "do you want to be right or happy" weighed in on the happy side, and I didn't mention anything about family planning or women's reproductive rights in America, or the fact that I didn't feel I did a very good job the first time around.
There was also great concern on why I was sleeping with my sleeping bag instead of using the family linen. Well, even before the scorpion escapade, I was using my sleeping bag because it reminded me of home. This explanation was completely unacceptable, but here again, I resolved to be happy rather than explain, and used it until recently (when it has started getting too hot and besides, I left it at my permanent site).
One day, somewhat early on, I had discovered a handkerchief in my suitcase that I had overlooked so it hadn't been laundered in Africa yet. I smelled of the handkerchief and was so overwelmed with the smell that I was quite distracted for a bit. It smelled of home. I must have closed my eyes and breathed in heavily because when I opened my eyes, the whole family was staring at me and asked what was wrong.
It's amazing what a fragrance can do.
We had a workshop detailing the emotions of Peace Corps volunteers. Apparently, the first 6 months are very difficult and the training is nothing short of an emotional roller coaster ride. It was helpful to know that I'm right where I'm supposed to be, emotionally, even if it is rather distressing.
I reviewed my journal last night and although there is a lot of writing, there are a few intances of :
I hate Africa.
I hate Americans.
I hate Setswana.
I hate English.
There are many better days, I'm happy to report.
Just another bit on language, then I really do, need to go study my language.
I suck at learning a foreign language. It is the most difficult thing for me to do. When I do it, I have to lock myself away in a room, make flash cards, do study sheets, etc. It is horrifically difficult for me. I almost didn't earn my Master's Degree because it took me FOUR tries to pass my foreign language proficiency test.
So, my host family thinks I should pick up Setswana by hearing them speak it to me. So, they say a phrase, the odd sounds glance off of my gray matter, and I have no idea what was said. So they repeat it LOUDER. The African people are very passionate and very demonstrative. After a few evenings of feeling shouted at, I retreated to my room and have basically disappeared. Needless to say, I haven't had a lot of practice SPEAKING the language, but hopefully I've memorized enough to muddle through. Will know in a bit.
Btw, science has shown that there is a "critical period" whereby if a child learns an additional language by the time or around the time that they are TWELVE OR THIRTEEN years old, they have a good chance of becomming fluent. Need I remind anyone that I'm 46 years old?
Ok, nuff for now, I'm off to it.
As always, PC is not responsible or in anyway connected, supportive of, etc., anything that is posted here. All thoughts, feelings, interpretations, misinterpretations, are mine!
Missing you all, more than you can know! k
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