Hitting the Ground Running – Literally

Thurday, Sept. 10^th, 2009

3:35pm

I can not believe that I have been here for less than two weeks! So much has happened in such a short time. As stated, I have been running around, and not just on my daily morning jogs. Fixing up my hut, visiting shopping towns around me to buy moving-in necessities, and attending cultural community events have monopolized what should be my more relaxed, slow-paced African life. What is the fraise? “You can take the girl out of the American –pace, but you can’t take the American-pace out of the girl”. Something like that, right? :-) Or more precisely, you can name her Zodwa, but she will always be Darryn. Ha ha.

I was hoping to post the entry previous to this one a week ago, when I went, list in hand, to Nhlangano to buy a bed, groceries, use the internet café, mail letters, and a few other tasks I was sure I could accomplish. Silly me. I got out of Nhlangano with a bed, a few hut-improvement objects, and my letters posted…barely. It was a rush from the get go! It takes me about 1 ½ hours by bus to get to this city (and city is an overstatement plus). Another volunteer’s brother had offered to transport three beds in his small pick-up truck, which probably saved us a ton on transportation but spared us nothing in hilarity and story making. Each bed (bed box and mattress) stood vertically, with one mattress capping off the end of the truck bed, tied down with one rope. And yet somehow, it became more difficult to figure out how to fit the people in the cab! Their bhuti was insistent that if we put one too many people in the cab the police would pull us over and give us a ticket. Although this was probably true and the safer route, irony was felt by all when looking at the precariously stacked and tied beds that would somehow not catch the attention or concern of the police! I was chosen to ride along with the beds, because I was probably the best one to direct the brother and mother to both mine and Tegan’s homesteads. On the trip back, one that I am grateful to have survived, the truck stalled no less than 4 times, and I accidently directed a wrong turn when trying to navigate to two-track paths to Tegan’s place. We made two stops other than dropping off beds. One was to get gas, and the other was to pick up bananas at a road side stand. It felt very drive-thru-esk. One woman, among about ten, walked up to our vehicle with a platter of bunches of bananas. I decided to buy some as well, they were seriously the most delicious bananas I have ever eaten, and we were back on our slow comical journey. Upon returning home I found that electricity had been installed to my room, although, status quo for these parts, our area was in a black out. Go figure. In my comfy bed that night, although my sheets were being used as curtains (currently still hanging) and the electricity was not on, I felt like a Swaziland princess.

The past weekend I dove into my hut-improvement tasks! I ended up spackling and painting my walls. The color, when chosen in town, was a lighter bluish-green, but once mixed and applied to my walls became the most baby blue you ever saw. I affectionately call it “Riv. Blue”, because it is strikingly similar to my, highly missed, Buick Riviera’s color. My entire family was shocked that I knew how to paint, and would come in and watch me for a while. Multiple times I was asked why I did not have my 15 year old brother, Lindo, do it for me. A girl who knows how to paint… astounding! At the same time a Church of Christ revival was taking place in the homestead next to ours. I attended a night music service and the Sunday service to show community support and gain a cultural experience. I believe both were accomplished fully. Each lasted for 3 hours, but Thobile and I left a bit early on Sunday once the church’s finances and business started being discussed.

There was a second attempt to get a blog posted in Matata, another town, earlier last week, which was obviously foiled. Although this place is touted for its cleanliness of bathrooms, the only café with exceptional milkshakes AND wi-fi, and a decent Spar (grocery store) it will most likely not be my most visited shopping town. Getting to and from this “Westerner’s Mecca” was a hassle and possibly, euphemistically stated, an adventure. This bus ride was 2 hours of the dustiest, bumpiest, loudest, gravel roads, and that was just the ride there! I had been told, or misheard, the only bus’s departing time, and even that was a rush to get to on time, just to find out the bus had left an hour pervious! So I had to take the more expensive, but according to my family quicker, travel route via tar roads and multiple khumbis (van taxis). Shucks… if I only I knew what was in store…

Around 2pm I got into a khumbi and waited, and waited, and waited for it to fill with passengers so it could depart. In 40 minutes we were off to Lavumisa where I waited, and waited, and waited for yet another khumbi to fill to take me to a crossroads 3k South from my house. Once I reached that pointed I was planning on catching the last bus North at 3:45 to my stop and thus home. Well, at about 4:10pm we took off from Lavumisa, which meant no bus for me. With fan, bag of groceries, mop, and wonderful mail package in tote I walked the 3k to my house, no doubt either alarming and/or amusing my community members. I was offered a lift by a few nice drivers with people in their cab, another popular form of public transportation here, but due to PC policy, and concern for my safety, I am forbidden to use that method. Remember that this was the more expensive, but supposedly faster (almost 4hours later), route! Always finding the silver-lining, I had a wonderful HIV/AIDs discussion with the khumbi driver and the gentleman to my left (that was helping me hold my fan). I don’t need a classroom, just give me a long, overly packed khumbi ride! :-)

Finally, although there are multiple smaller moments full of meaning and seeping with insight, I wish to share my two visits to Umpagatsi. The Umpagatsi is the meeting place, located on the chief’s homestead, where the weekly inner council (town council) meeting and community meetings occur. Both last Wednesday and yesterday I attended said meetings, although relying heavily on volunteers to translate for me. Last week I was officially introduced to the community. I was allowed to stand and say a few words (all very broken siSwati), which were welcomed with surprise, laughter, and applause. I also met individuals who worked with other health groups like World Vision and PSI. This week I was in for a real “treat”. A health group outside our community was there to do HIV/AIDs testing and education, and with them was a traditional cultural delicacy – boiled cow’s head (for the men) and boiled cow’s intestines (for the women). I can report that… I tried my best. After multiple bites of the intestines, always followed quickly with bites of cooked maize meal, I had to throw in the towel (better than throwing up) and as discretely as possible pass off my now cold plate of food onto my Swazi counterpart. Gold star for effort, but not even liking sausage, I just couldn’t quite do it.

Tomorrow will be my third attempt at posting. Either “third time’s a charm” or “three strikes and you’re out”. We will see. I will be in Mbabane for a bon voyage party at the PC office for an awesome APCD that will sadly be leaving us. I am spending the night at a hostel, so hopefully between the two days I will get a chance to jump into an internet café for five minutes! Fingers crossed.

I love you all very VERY much (especially the soon to be married couple – you know how much you mean to me)! Take Care all!

Darryn/Zodwa