‎"My satisfaction comes from my commitment to advancing a better world"

This weekend has been full of ups and downs (and by "weekend" I mean Saturday to Tuesday since it was a long weekend in Botswana to celebrate the Presidents Holiday). Over the course of four days, I have gone from feeling blissfully happy to extremely frustrated to calm and content to sobbing my eyes out. And today, more specifically, has been a roller coaster.


I woke up this morning feeling rested for the first time in a while. For all intensive purposes, I was pretty happy. My weekend to this point had been very fun - I had seen African animals, eaten delicious food, spent time with friends, and thoroughly cleaned and re-organized my house. And now I had a big cup of dark roast coffee sent from home to drink and the whole day ahead of me. What could go wrong, right? Well, I sat down with my coffee and a big bowl of granola with yogurt to watch a few episodes from season six of Weeds when the next thing I knew I was feeling overcome with homesickness. Yes, it was brought on by seeing Seattle in the episode I was watching but the nostalgic feeling was compounded with something much deeper than that. Today was the first day that I felt a real sense of calm when I thought about actually going home.

The thought of going home and being with and helping the people that I love was overpowering. The truth is that being here right now feels stagnant and, if there's one thing I learned from my dad's death, it is that life is too short and too uncertain to waste, especially if what I'm doing is not moving things forward in some sense. I feel like most of the people I am working with don't care if I am here other than the fact that they are happy I'm doing their work for them. My reason for coming was to help people and the message that Peace Corps has been constantly reiterating is that our mission is to capacitate host country nationals to improve their own lives. If the people I am working with are not interested in the slightest then I am setting myself up for disappointment in this arena. It's hard because I felt purpose at home, even in the times when I wasn't feeling totally fulfilled. It just got to the point today that I truly felt like if what I do here won't matter in the end, and if things will be no different if I were here or not, then I don't see the point in struggling through everything when I could be happy and with the people I love. So, basically, I'm trying to find a way to remedy that and see if there's a way my two years here could possibly matter in the end. And that was in the dark moments of today...

In my better moments of the day I was able to take comfort in the strength of my mom, who has been able to carry on even in the hardest times; smile in the humor of my sister, who has always been able to put me at ease; and find solace in the words of a friend, who said "The first few months will be hard... And maybe your organization will not make a lasting impact. But focus on the small things you can do, and all the little impacts you can make, and how this experience, be it positive or negative, will enrich your life... [focus] on each person here and there, the kids you can give candy to, etc, and then the big picture just doesn't matter anymore."

In the end, the things that are upsetting me are evidence of the need for help here. People are stuck in a way that is destructive (both in their actions and inaction). I may not be able to help everyone or magically transform them into faithful employees and partners, but I may be able to help a little. In truth, I came here because I want to see the world become a better place. This has always been my passion and I am dedicated and committed to doing my part here. Yes, I have my work cut out for me but I hope with all my heart that I can do something, however negligible it may seem to be, that will be meaningful and powerful. So I'm going to take the bad parts of the weekend and turn them into fuel for my mission. Because, after all, "My satisfaction comes from my commitment to advancing a better world." (And all the small things are sure to add up!)

My Three Besties in Kumakwane

These are the three little ones that visit me every day. They have turned into my besties in Kumakwane. When they come over every afternoon, I scrub their little hands, I feed them a snack (because it breaks my heart to see them going through the garbage scavenging for food), and then we play. We usually have a ruckus game of frisbee, we play catch, and we jump rope. If it's not too late, we come inside and color, look at pictures, and have a dance party (to Amadou & Mariam, a duo from Mali). Outside of their hungry tummies, they are three of the happiest, sweetest, and most joyous kids I have ever met. They are very precious. I'm lucky to call them friends.

Some things I like most about Botswana from my first 103 days

Simple in appearance Subtle in design The framework of a friendship That ages like fine wine It is the simple pleasures That makes it all worthwhile Sometimes just a sunrise Is enough to make me smile So much is in the watching Or listening to nature’s voice And knowing when to stop And realize you have a choice Take some time to just step back And just take in the view It’s about the simple pleasures That all of us once knew by Robert Longley

Some of these simple pleasures that remind me that I am fortunate and are among my favorite things from Botswana so far are...

mugs of martinis... motse lodge... rain storms... roaring thunder... baby goats... traditional dancing... finding botswana bliss... making new friends... my host family... sunsets... meeting michelle obama... decorating... the desert race... "thata thata thata" and "too much miss"... (multi-) cultural exchange... learning to cook new things... eeyore donkeys... jello shots... mutual frustration that ends in laughter... magwinya (the kitty and the dessert)... care packages... yoga... smiles from the orphans... the skies... black label... african wildlife... the compound dogs and their puppies... my donkey "custard"... hobnobbing with madam ambassador... bonfires... chicken pies from the takeaway... W.W.L.D.... ceilings... mafhikana movie nights... the kumakwane hill... kesaobaka's birthday party... the "aish" business plan... classy tassy... the stars... the neighborhood kids... and mostly my bots 10 family... 

The Cycles of an Overactive PCV's Mind

I know I have said it before but, in the interest of stating it's contribution thus far to my experience, I'll say it again: Peace Corps gives you a lot of time to think (perhaps too much). There is a lot of down time and a lot of alone time at site which leads to an over-active mind. (I think it leads to this, and can be somewhat troublesome, because the type of people drawn to Peace Corps are usually outgoing, inquisitive, motivated, and adventurous. We are the type of people that seek things out and want to know and do more all the time. So, when we are given extensive time to just sit, we have to occupy ourselves with something: thinking.) Having all the time in the world to sit with your thoughts elicits a lot of emotions (that continuously cycle without notice).

At first, having alone time was only a blessing. We were relieved to have control again - it was a break from the monotony of pre-service training and all that entailed. For two months, we had been consumed with classroom sessions, group assignments, language study, field work, and living with a Batswana family. We had a regimented schedule and not enough time to just sit. We were on overload and so the quiet afternoons and dormant nights on our own were welcomed. We were able to calm ourselves down, think and do things our own way, and get back into our own grooves.

And then we found that having nothing but time yielded an over-active-mind-game, which had the potential to drive you insane. It could make you question your decision to join Peace Corps, it could make you over-analyze every relationship or thought or belief you have ever had, and it could drive you to drink just to escape the over thinking. (I say this last point in jest but, as a group, we have actually joked about the potential reality of it on more than one occasion...) Basically, you have more than enough time to let your mind wander anywhere and dwell on any number of things. It takes a strong will to focus those thoughts so they don't become destructive. In an effort to combat this, most of us consume ourselves with books and movies and sending sms's to one another to remind us that we're not alone out here. These things serve as an escape from our own thoughts and occupies our latent hours.

And finally, we hope to find peace. And I don't mean "world peace" (although that would be great too). What I mean is that feeling of contentment where you can sit idly with yourself and your thoughts in peace. In all honesty, some days I feel completely content and am blissfully happy just for existing and then other days I have to consciously force myself to this place, if I get there at all. (Remember, I said this is cyclical so it's a constant re-commitment to service and to myself.) I am doing a little meditation, a lot of yoga, and a ridiculous amount of soul searching on this quest for inner peace. At this point, what I have realized about myself (outside of the fact that I'm somewhat OCD and that I can cook) is this: It doesn't matter what I do in life if I am not surrounded by people that I love. Even the most meaningful work can feel meaningless without those people. They are who make my life complete and who fulfill me. Although I do not doubt that my work in Botswana will be extremely compelling to me (and hopefully to others) and that I will remain dedicated and passionate about helping people, it is realizations like this that will probably have the largest impact on my future.

In the meantime, I will sit and think and ponder... or go play catch with the neighborhood kids.

"When you find peace within yourself, you become the kind of person who can live at peace with others."

Unsettled...

For those of you who follow along about my life on Facebook, I feel I owe you all an update on the status of the NGO I am working for because I have made vague mention recently about some problems I have been facing. For those of you who have not heard yet, things are rather unsettled for me these days.

First off, I would like to start by saying that communication is a big issue in Botswana. People here do not like confrontation so they opt instead for omitting information, sugar coating, avoidance, and general passive-aggressive behavior. The reason I am mentioning this before I go into detail about my NGO's current situation is because the problems we are facing right now have been a long time coming and could have been navigated had they been addressed, or at the very least mentioned, when I came over a month ago. Additionally, I would not be quite as worried about the survival of the NGO if I could count on the staff to be upfront and proactive. As it stands, however, that may not be a reality here.

So here is the situation... About ten days ago I found out that the funding cycle for the primary funder of my NGO, Project Concern International (PCI), was coming to an end on July 1st. PCI would be supporting the NGO for the following two months to wrap up reports etc but that program funding was complete. Outside of one request that the outgoing PCV and I worked on with them in May, there had been no efforts made to secure additional funding. (Note: in following up about this proposal, I have learned that the funder made site visits a few weeks ago to the organizations they were interested in partnering with - we were not included in those visits.) What this means for the organization is that the staff would no longer be getting paid, the programs would cease, and the OVC (orphan and vulnerable children) Center at my NGO would be closing indefinitely. This means that the 78 children that are currently utilizing our center will not be getting fed (they eat two meals per day there) and they will not be getting psychosocial support (for either being affected or infected with HIV/AIDS - 21 of our 78 children are infected). (That does not even include the roughly 500 children that come in and out of the center for after-school care and homework assistance and the 109 HIV/AIDS infected adults that receive counseling and support through the NGO.) This is devastating for the children and for the Kumakwane community.

I have been vehemently working on a strategic plan and a resource mobilization plan and meeting with the board, the staff, and a number of consultants in an effort to find a viable solution and keep the doors open. As it stands, within two months the NGO will be out of money for rent on the facility, for staff salaries, and for continued programming. Efforts by the staff to thwart the problem have been negligible at this point, although I think the magnitude of the situation is starting to weigh in on the board chairman. At a board meeting yesterday, he begged the present board members (only 3 of 7 showed up - typical) and the Center Coordinator to take ownership of the NGO and recognize the need for the children to pursue partnerships and keep the organization alive.

It may be too little and too late at this point. The reality of receiving enough funding before everything dries up is dismal. Best case scenario is that we can put together some proposals and rub elbows with people that can help us in the interim so that the NGO only closes for a short time and not permanently. I don't even want to discuss the worst case scenario.

Now here is where I get even more unsettled... The potential for my organization to go under is impacting the permanency of my site placement. I have been meeting with my Associate Peace Corps Director (APCD) (basically a Program Director) about the situation and we have been monitoring it and trying to decide the best next step. I have two options: One, remain at the NGO and try to see this through, knowing that the organization will close for at least some time and that it will be a battle to get the necessary funding and that I will be doing the majority of the work and carrying a large part of the burden. Two, I can be reassigned and start over at a new site and a new NGO.

There are moral dilemmas riddled throughout either choice we make. If I stay where I am (at a site that I love, in a house that I love, and with people that I am finally becoming friends with) then I can potentially save an organization and help these children get food and care that they need. To do this, however, I will be taking on the workload and essentially running the NGO. This is not in accordance with Peace Corps principles. I am supposed to be capacitating people so that the work can be sustainable. This NGO has had PCVs in the past that have done a remarkable job in training and working with staff but the staff has not made an effort to continue the work on their own. The NGO will most certainly face this exact same situation when I leave in two years. The reason I came to Botswana was to help people and to make a sustainable impact - these two ideals are in contest right now with this option. (And that is if I am even able to secure funding to re-open the NGO in the upcoming months. If not, I would be reassigned.) However, if I leave Kumakwane and move forward with my Peace Corps service in another site, I may have the opportunity to work with inspired and involved Batswana who I can really work with and teach so that at the end of my two years they are able to continue helping people in their community. Peace Corps would have to take great care in reassigning me because it is a costly and timely process that they would not want to do a third time so the chances of my working with a more stable organization increases. The risk is that I may not like my site or my house or the people I am around as much as I love Kumakwane, I may not end up working with people that are motivated, and I may feel a sense of disappointment that I wasn't able to help the children from this first NGO. (Although, I have already decided that whatever choice is made, I will continue to help out here by writing proposals and assisting with systems development and implementation as a secondary project because I believe it is that important to try.)

My APCD told me that she would be looking into the situation more and pondering the best next move over the weekend and that we would meet again on Monday. (I am also meeting with someone from the NGO's national organization on Monday to try and get assistance for the NGO from them.) I am hopeful that we will make the right decision, whatever that may be, and that I can feel a sense of calm again. It is very hard being this unsettled. I will keep you all posted...

My Day-To-Day Life: A Reminder that Every Coin Has Two Sides

Yes, it's true that I have had some fun adventures since coming to Botswana - I saw lions in the Kalahari, the longest off-road race in Africa was in my village, and I met the one and only Michelle Obama. And, yes, it's also true that I have a lot more exciting events ahead of me - New Years in Cape Town, lounging on the beaches of Mozambique, and riding the sand dunes in Namibia. But the pictures and the stories that grace your computer screens do not accurately represent my day-to-day life during this adjustment/assessment phase between pre-service training and in-service training. What takes place most days is something much quieter, simpler, and much more lackluster.

Most days start at 6 am when I get up to turn my geyser on so I can have warm water to bath. If I can stand it, I mosey around my cold house, usually wrapped in a blanket, (remember, it's winter here right now and they aren't kidding around about its frigidness) and I get water on the stove for coffee, I check my email (the internet dongle is fastest first thing in the morning), and I take the dishes off the drying rack from the night before. Then I do some yoga before putzing around for a while longer (because it takes the geyser a long time to heat up). By around 8 am I am able to bath and by 9 am I am out the door to the NGO.

The walk to the NGO takes about 20 minutes. One of the dogs that lives on my compound, Timmy, has started taking the walk with me and is basically attached to my side the whole time. (This is kind of an oddity around Botswana because people and dogs don't have that sort of relationship but I think it is kind of precious and he is truly my best friend in the village right now - literal meaning of "man's best friend".) I usually pass about a dozen people on my way there. I shout greetings in Setswana to everyone but only the people at the General Dealer ever engage in any form of dialogue with me (meaning they say "dumela" and then they will ask how I am - "le kae?" - but the conversation stops there - but I am grateful even for that much).

After a few weeks of awkward conversation and near silence, the people at my NGO are starting to warm up to me. Walking in and seeing their smiles is one of the highlights of my day. In part because it's nice to see friendly smiles (and they may actually be becoming friends - could it be true?!) and in part because it's quite possibly going to be my only real human contact of the day (outside of sms'ing). We exchange greetings in both English and Setswana and then I pester them about finishing a report or a project or ask if they have followed up about x, y, or z. Then, if possible, I'll do a little something around the office (today I moved the desks around for a big meeting we were having, I cleaned and organized, and I worked on a strategic plan for the organization). By this point everyone has returned to speaking Setswana in a pace much too fast for me to catch even familiar words so I usually go sit down and read a book (I'm currently reading The Invisible Cure by Dr. Helen Epstein) and anxiously wait for something I can help with or teach someone about. Sometimes I go for a walk around the village to try and meet people (i.e. community integration). I am still somewhat of a spectacle around Kumakwane (lekoga on the loose) so I get mixed reactions when I walk around (some people smile, kids run over to me and poke my skin, others stare confusedly). Then I come back to the office and eat lunch and hang out for a while in relative silence.

At around 3:30 I wander from the NGO back towards my house. I try to take a slightly different route each day so that I can see more paths around Kumakwane and try to say dumela to new people. Usually this walk involves a pack of kids that follow me giggling and asking where Mary is (another PCV in the village that works at the Junior Secondary School). When I get back to the compound I usually try to say hi to the neighbors (also my landlord and her large family) and pet all the dogs (there are four plus seven new puppies). Then I go inside, turn on some music, and clean things that are already clean. Sometimes I jump rope for a bit or I'll do some more yoga to kill time. After a while it's time to make some dinner and calculate the time difference to the west coast to see if my mom or my sister or a dear friend might be online to chat with me and tell me happy thoughts from home. If I can time it right then I will go online and chat with them for a while, otherwise I grab a blanket and watch a movie on my laptop (courtesy of the magical external hard drive of love and media). By 9 pm I am thoroughly bored and get ready for bed.

Basically, what I'm saying is that despite all the super fun tales of African adventures, my daily life is very uneventful. It consists mostly of sitting around mixed with a little capacity building and some attempts at community integration. It's a mentally draining time. We all try to combat it with a hike here and there, a good book, the promise of an upcoming event, and small successes. It is in these moments that we are reminded that we are lucky and that things will get easier. We will get used to the new pace of life, we will figure out our organizations and how we can help, we will make friends with that stranger in the village, and we will be okay. But the in between stuff gives us time to think (too much). So the moral of this story is this: for all of you that we left at home, for as much fun as it looks like we're having please remember that there are hard times and lonely times too and knowing that you're there for each of us makes all the difference in the world.

Perplexing Botswana Observation #586

I know I haven't blogged about the previous 585 perplexing observations but, trust me, I have made them and will get around to sharing them eventually (I have two years so fret not friendly followers)! Perplexing Botswana observation #586 is purely dietary. It is this: the Batswana diet consists almost entirely of carbs and starches (in large quantities) and they put massive amounts of mayo and ketchup (mixed together) as dressings on said carbs and starches. And yet somehow, completely out of my realm of understanding, they are not massively obese. In fact, I have seen some of the skinniest people in my entire life walking the paths of my village. It is remarkable and utterly perplexing. If someone can explain this phenomenon to me please speak up. In the three months I have been here, I have most certainly gained weight. I want in on whatever the Batswana have going for them!

This is Africa

I have been in Africa for 77 days and at my permanent site for 9. In this time, I have seen and experienced a lot of new things, many of these being very different from my past norm. I have often wondered when these things would seem normal. Well, ladies and gentlemen, I am ready to announce that I have reached that point. Even the most "odd" things are familiar now. For example: It is no longer unusual to see donkeys, goats, cows, and/or chickens roaming down the freeway. I am no longer surprised when they shove 50+ people on a 25 person bus (and when that bus careens itself down the road honking and swerving passed said livestock). I now carry toilet paper with me everywhere because there will never be any, even in the public restrooms in shopping malls in Gaborone. I've heard "don't walk around at night because there have been lion attacks lately" more often than "because you might get robbed." I have accepted that it is considered improper for women to show their armpits but that it goes completely unnoticed if their boobs are hanging out of their robe when they're outside doing chores. I know that I will either be chased down or completely ignored by locals and that people will get ridiculously excited when I speak Setswana. I am only slightly amazed when people show up two (or more) hours late for a meeting and honestly think they're on time because the food is just getting set out. And I am excited by the realization that spontaneous dance parties will break out everywhere and EVERYONE can (and does) bust a move. (Seriously, they can all shake their bodies in outrageous ways and I am so so jealous.) These things are normal now. TIA... This Is Africa.

“Nothing for us without us” – Lessons from PST

Today, on this 7^th day of June 2011, I will stand proudly beside the remaining 35 members of my Bots 10 family as we take our oath and swear in as United States Peace Corps Volunteers. This day marks something momentous for each of us in very unique ways and holds a lot of emotion. For me, it is both the commencement of a grand adventure and the culmination of a demanding two months of pre-service training. It is a day that I have been waiting on for nearly a decade – a day that I cannot believe is finally here.

They say that pre-service training is the hardest and most trying time in the lifecycle of a Peace Corps Volunteer. It is a time when you are physically and mentally pushed to new limits; when you are completely out of your comfort zone; when you are challenged, trained, inspired, broken down, and made stronger; and when you find out who you really are, what you really need, and how much your perspective can change. (For example, I have learned that toilet seats are completely superfluous, as is running water, and that I truly appreciate quirkiness, zen moments, and dikgobe.) There is a rollercoaster of emotions and unlikely strangers become friends and then become family. I have felt all of these things over the last two months in Botswana. There were times when it was tough and we all grumbled at the thought of having another month or three weeks or three days of PST but I must confess that, as a whole, I have had a truly meaningful couple of months and am profoundly grateful.

As I started packing my things last night to take to my new home in Kumakwane, I felt a sense of relief mixed with somberness to be closing this mini-chapter in my Peace Corps journey. It is going to be hard to say goodbye to my host family (visiting them will indubitably hold a different dynamic) and it is strange to imagine not seeing my Bots 10 family every day or partake in Mafhikana movie nights. Fortunately, as with everything involved with Peace Corps it seems, I simultaneously felt enthused and eager for the next step.

We did it. We made it this far and can officially start “to create change”. But if there was one real lesson I got from PST, it is this: “nothing for us without us.” This lesson is especially pertinent within the context of our mission in Botswana – to make an impact and promote behavior change in response to the HIV/AIDS pandemic in Botswana. For this to be achieved, the people need to be engaged and recognize their role in changing their own behaviors. As Peace Corps Volunteers we aspire to change the world but, in truth, we cannot change another person’s behavior. For anything to become permanent, individuals need to take ownership over their own actions.

This same concept applies to each of us. It is important not to forget about our own needs in this quest to help the people of Botswana. We must be open to the change that occurs within ourselves, to recognize that our own behaviors and perspectives may need modifying too, and to free ourselves of the binds holding us back. This is a chance to make true, lasting, and meaningful change within us and only then can we be the type of person capable of helping others. PST started this transformation in many of us.

So, as I take my oath in a few hours, I will also vow to remain open and honest with my peers, the Batswana, and myself and I will always remember that change requires collaboration, understanding, patience, and respect (for myself and others).

Congratulations Bots 10! I am so proud to call you my family!

Winter in Botswana

They told me that it gets cold in Botswana and I was forewarned to bring layers however, I am from the Northwest and I'm used to the cold (after all, some of my favorite things include snowboarding and snowshoeing), so I assumed that all the warnings were from wussy people who had no concept of what "real" cold means. Actually, when people started saying that "winter is coming" a few weeks ago, I had to suppress snowboarding dreams and thought I would have to readjust my perspective on winter and realize that flip flops were going to be the new norm for the next two years. Well, I am formally and officially stating that I was wrong. It is really really stinking cold here! And it's not just any type of cold. Nope, not at all. This is the kind of cold that gets deep into your bones and lingers. Yes, this is probably because the houses are made of concrete and there is absolutely no insulation whatsoever so you are constantly and continuously stuck in the cold. In fact, when I woke up this morning, the very first thing I saw in my bedroom was my breath. Brrrrrr. The past few mornings it has been below freezing when I woke up, literally. There is frost on the ground and talk of snow in South Africa. I was wrong. So, for all of you who want to come to Africa during its winter season (June-August), make sure you pack your puffy down jacket, a beanie and gloves, and your Uggs. It gets cold and it happens within the span of 24 hours. No joke. Brrrrrr.