Mandela Day

Here is a picture of me and Grade 11 from the local High School. Mandela Day is a day to celebrate Nelson Mandela's 67 years of service to his country by serving others for 67 minutes. The High Schoolers came to help out around the org.  A local business also brought lunch and sweets for the orphans and vulnerable children that come to our center after school.

Language Barriers

About a month ago, I arranged to spend a day going on home visits with one of our caregivers, Ntombenhle.  We agreed to meet at 10am the following day on the main road. I kept repeating, “Ok, I will call you when I get to Slimangamehlo.” (Slimangamehlo is another area semi- near to where I live). Ntombenhle kept repeating, “Alright, it is very far. Call me when you are near.”  The next morning, I set out early to catch a khumbi.  The khumbi ride was about 30 minutes, taking me to the edge of Mandolobheni-the area before Slimangamehlo.  I paid the driver and started my hike to Slimangamehlo.  While I was walking, another caregiver spotted me from her house and came running down to walk with me.  Not speaking any English, I finally made it clear that I was walking to meet up with Ntombenhle to do home visits. She called Ntombenhle, chatted for a bit (none of which I caught), laughed a bit, and hung up.  She said she would walk with me.  After about 10 minutes she said we should stop and wait for another caregiver who was behind us that was headed to Slimangamehlo, where she runs our second soup kitchen.  The 3 of us set off once more.  After a 30-40 minute walk, another caregiver (whose name, honestly, I didn’t remember) starts walking toward us on the street.  The caregivers that I am walking with say, “Ok, here is Ntombenhle. We will see you later.” Obviously, I am puzzled. This is not Ntombenhle. I try to explain why I am confused and I call the Ntombenhle that I had planned to meet.  Telling her I am in Slimangamehlo to meet her, she responds that she lives in KwaVala-not Slimangamehlo. What a mess. Suddenly, I realize…we have 2 caregivers named Ntombenhle. When I looked at the contact sheet for what area Ntombenhle lived in, I looked at the wrong person. Ay ama. Luckily, this new Ntombenhle didn’t skip a beat. Wrong Ntombenhle? No problem. Let’s go on home visits.

why write a post when my friend already wrote everything I would say and more?

check it out-

abgoestoafrica.blogspot.com/2012/07/18-july-2012-our-deepest-fear-isnot.html?m=1

alyssa wrote a wonderful recap of in-service traning (IST) and our awesome vacation up the wild coast.

10 kilos in 10 days...

I am sitting here in a comforable chair with tasty table mints, in a heated room. I have been at a hotel/conference center outside of Pretoria for the past week for in-service training (IST).  They treat us nice for surviving our first three months at site, rewarding us with 3 buffett meals a day (hence the 10 kilos I gained in 10 days), two tea times, hot showers, a hot tub, and a sauna. Am I really in Peace Corps right now?  I was accompanied by my supervisor, Xoli, at the beginning of the week. We learned about project management, planning the Zenzele Girl's Club that I hope to start upon my return.  Next, I was joined by my South African counterpart for more training.  We learned about different programs to implement in our communities and HIV prevention mobilization from the Center for Disease Control (CDC).  On Sunday, we went to a 4th of July party hosted by the American Embassy. I was actually on American soil for a beautiful afternoon.  The day was filled with a volleyball tourny, BBQ, a dessert contest, and face painting. Unfortunately, there were no fireworks because they were afraid it would be confused as a terrorist attack on the embassy.

Training ends tomorrow and I am taking off on a roadtrip up the wild coast-stopping in Chinsta, Coffee Bay, and Port St. Johns....Can't wait! (Wish me luck driving on the opposite side of the road).