Monday, November 28, 2011

3 Proposals at a Funeral

Funerals here are a big deal.  It takes a week to prepare, with loads of cooking, setting up tents, digging the grave, organizing the program of events.  Lots of work.  Funerals are on Saturday mornings, they start at the deceased's house, move to the graveyard, and back to the house for food. 

This weekend I went with my mom, Middle School Principal and lots of educators to the funeral of one of the teacher's mother.  It was one of seven funerals in my village that day. 

At 6am I was walking with my mom to the funeral.  A passerby picked us up and for the next 8 hours I tried not to be the center of attention as the only white person around.  For over 2 hours we sat in chairs under the tent listening to different speakers with lots of singing and dancing throughout.  Lots of women were wearing the "uniform" of their church.  Usually a red, black or blue graduation gown with a white sash.  One church's uniform is a black graduation gown with a leopard print hat.  And one was red with the most intricate sash with lots of badges, they looked like very accomplished Girl Scouts.  There was a song and/or dance about every 5 minutes, usually led by one of these women. 

More singing as they carry the coffin to the graveyard, some preaching and more singing as all the men take turns burying the coffin.  I was standing with 4 other educators for the long 2 hours that took.  It was getting hot, but women must cover their hair and shoulders at a funeral out of respect.  I was wearing a hat and jacket, but it got very warm even before noon.  So I had to be respectful in my hat, but the women I was standing with must have gotten bored and starting talking about their bodies.  Next thing I know, I look over and see them fondling each other's fat rolls and and drumming on their boobs.  Respect for the dead?

Finally, we walk back to the house and dash to secure ourselves a chair.  The men are sitting under a tree and the women under the tent.  We listen to a little more talking, then the food starts.  There is always a lot of great food at funerals, like rice, pap, samp, gravy, chicken, beef, goat, cabbage, butternut squash, and more that I don't remember right now.  I went with those same women to a neighbors house that helped with the food and was able to bypass most of the line to get my plate.  A small girl became enthralled with me, and stared at me eating.  When I spoke a little Setswana to her she giggled and became quite the little chatterbox for the rest of the meal.

I thougth we'd leave soon afterwards, I'd been to a couple other funerals and we'd always dined and dashed.  But this time the Principal said we must stay and mourn with the family.  Translation: sit under a tree and drink lots of beer.  Now, Peace Corps told us to NOT drink in the village.  To be taken seriously, especially as a young woman, I should not be seen drinking.  I've taken that advice to heart, but at the funeral I definitely felt more harshly judged for NOT drinking.  All the educators who knew me were like "Gina, what are you having? What will you drink?" and taken aback when I said Coke. 

Sitting in a big circle under a tree, I nursed my coke as everyone talked about me in Setwana.  One man tried to start flirting with me by saying something about how drinking coke would kill my life electricity but he could be my boyfriend and fix that (accompanied by some rude hand gestures).  Another guy came over, started talking, and asked "didn't I have a ..." a what?  He meant boyfriend, and asked if he could come "visit" me.  I said yes, of course, we'd sit in the house with my mom and brothers and visit.  That wasn't what he meant and he didn't talk to me again.  I was very uncomfortable, so when I saw my mom walk by I jumped up and asked if she was going home.  We said our goodbyes, and she tells me that the educators were upset I was leaving so early.  Oh well, I'm tired and the only sober one at this point. 

The taxi driver who took mom and I home asked about me, and if I wanted a boyfriend.  Three offers in one day!  A new record.  My mom shoots him down for me, then has a long conversation with him and another woman in the taxi about how they need to get me married soon so my husband will pay her labola.  Labola is the opposite of a dowery, the man pays the wife's family to take her from them.  I disagree with labola, it seems to put a strain on a new marriage when you have no money because the wife's family demanded so much for her.  But I figure I'm worth at least 20 cows and a few chickens.  ;)

It's almost 3pm when I finally made it home, I said hello to my brothers and collapsed into bed for a long nap.  Funerals are exhausting.

Party in the Pan!

So much time as passed since my last blog post because I've been hosting a guest and we stayed super busy.

Retabile, another PCV, had a security issue in her village and needed to get out of Dodge for a while.  Since my Principal and I were headed to town the next day, it was a perfect opportunity to pick her up.  She and I went to school everyday where she gave lots of classroom management advice to the teachers.  We stayed up late watching movies and talking.  Retabile got lots of unwanted attention from the Middle School boys and a little wanted attention from the AA.  She helped me talk some sense into my mom about our lack of water problem and my babysitting responsibilities at the house.  The Middle School Principal invited us home with her one evening after school, so we got to go to town and meet her family and eat a delicious meal with them. 

Thanksgiving Day for us was working at the Middle School making copies for the national examinations, then watching the Grade R (Kindergarten) Graduation at the Primary School.  Some Grade 3 and 4 Learners were dressed in Traditional Setswana costumes and dancing, I took some videos and hope to post them up this week.  After school we made apple crumble and had drinks with a friend at my place.  It was a surprisingly good Holiday. 

Retabile just left on Friday, when the Peace Corps said she was safe again.  It was a sad parting, especially by all my Principals and Educators, everyone asked why she can't just stay here too and invited her to come back soon and often.  We had some time in Vryburg to eat befure she boarded the Taxi for her 2+ hour trip home.  I had quite an adventure on the way home with 7 other people in a small car, including one drunk guy who I'm sure was saying some very inappropriate things about the American.  Just another day in the life!

Sunday, November 13, 2011

The importance of education

I knew that I wouldn't be working with rocket scientists.  I knew that people here would be poor and poorly educated.  But I did expect some wisdom, maybe something primitive or passed down from generation to generation.  Something like the best ways to stay cool in the summer, natural treatment for injuries or something.  Instead I get these *pearls of wisdom.*

A fan in your room will cause you to develop the flu.
Put sugar in your pop/soda to dissolve the acid so you don't get the sugar diabetes.
Boil all your meat in saltwater before you bake or fry it.
Don't add any spices to your cooking meat, that'll give you high blood pressure.
Only fat people drink low fat milk.
Powdered medicine works better than pills, but only if mixed with hot water.  With cold water the medicine will just get stuck in your chest and not help you at all.
It's possible and common place for people to be allergic to injections, because of the needle.
Most people are allergic to canned food, so they take it out of the can before they eat it for safety.
Boiling your clothespins will make them stronger.
The only way to discipline a kid is to beat him.
Running (or just about any form of exercise) diminishes a woman's reproductive ability.  So will sitting on the ground or floor, so be sure to put a blanket or towel down to sit on.

By far, my favorite piece of advice was this: if you start eating eggs, cow tongue, oxtail or liver at too young an age you will get pregnant.  That's why teenage pregnancy rates areso high, girls are eating exactly what they wont to eat instead of what their moms and grannies tell them to eat.

This kinda stuff is what makes me value an good education. 

Saturday, November 12, 2011

I need SuperNanny

This 3-year-old is the most spoiled child I've ever dealt with.  He gets mad and hits or bites, and NO ONE says anything or disciplines him at all.  My mom is kinda like "boys will be boys" and laughs at his antics and disrespectful tone. 

Today Resego cried and begged at my burglar door to be let in.  I only brought him in with Lebo, his 9-year-old brother.  I was feeling sick and eating cereal, Resego tried to get a teaspoon to eat with me, and slapped my leg when I wouldn't let him.  I was about to put him outside again (I sound like I'm talking about a dog when I say this) but Lebo explained to him that I'm sick.  That didn't stop him from wanting to wallow all over me and play face-to-face. 

He got some dirt in his mouth and spit on my floor.  At least he went to the door and aimed outside when he had to pee.  Then he started to push buttons and play with my new fan, and I did put him outside.  He cried so hard he nearly passed out, and I felt heartless, but no way am I gonna tolerate this behavior.  Lebo suggested we just unplug the fan and let him play away.  I told him I wont change my room to accommodate a child when I don't have any children. 

In the main house later, I was trying to show Lebo how to tie friendship bracelets and Resego started to blow a mini-vuvuzela in my ear.  I made motions and said "ouch!" so he knew I didn't like it.  When he continued, I took his toy.  He tried to take my Nalgene in retaliation, and I put him in a chair for a time-out.  He didn't like that one bit and went to find his older cousin to tell on me. 

They came back in the room, Resego with a glass of water.  I don't know why he got mad at Lebo, but he poured the water on Lebo.  Again, none of his family said or did anything to him, they just calmly got the mop and cleaned up.  This terror child gets no discipline. 

I went to my room, and Lebo runs in for my protection because the kids are throwing a toy soccer ball at each other, hard.  I told them to leave in 2 languages, told Lebo I'm sick and they can't throw in my room.  Five minutes later Resego hits me with the ball and I keep it as I push them out.  I'm standing in my doorway still when they start throwing dirt clods.  Lebo aimed for his brother, but hits me on the knee with a clod.  And I'm done for the day, my burglar door and main door are locked. 

Lebo came knocking later, said something about a dirt clod, and when I opened the door and said "I want to hear an apology."  He didn't even know what I meant.  Resego joined him at the door to ask me to come play cards, I guess that's the closest I'll get to an apology from either of them.  Today Lebo told me that Father Christmas (he didn't recognize "Santa") doesn't come to the rural village here, but I wonder if Super Nanny would.

Friday, November 11, 2011

A day trip to Vryburg

I recently met up with another PCV in Vryburg for the day.  Transportation from my village to Vryburg is shady, I waited for a taxi to take me across the village to the official-unofficial bakkie rank.  A bakkie is a small pick-up truck with a camper top over the bed, and benches along the sides for people to sit.  If you sit in the back, you can't sit up straight and your knees hit you in the chest at the big bumps.  In the front and back of my bakkie we squeezed 15 adults and 2 toddlers.  Then we're flying down dirt roads at bone-jarring speeds for the first half of the trip.  The second half is on paved roads, at faster speeds.  The woman next to me starts breastfeeding her kid, with no concerns at all about the man driving or any show of modesty.  The kid was feeding and stroking whatever part of me she could reach, the mom didn't care, I couldn't move and I didn't want to say anything to rock the boat.  But it was awkward. 

Arriving in Vryburg, the grannies (gogos) in the bakkie all ask me if I'm okay, where I'm going and who I'm meeting.  So I call Oratile to see where she is.  (By the way, she has a 3 1/2 hour trip to Vryburg and beat me there!)  The gogos walk me to the grocery store to meet her, because "Vryburg is dangerous, it is not good for you."  Apparently there are still terrible race relations there and troublesome gangs. 

It was the first time I'd seen Oratile in 2 months, and we were thrilled to be hanging out.  I was starting to come down with a cold, my brain was a little fuzzy so I lost track of my stories a lot and had a delayed reaction to any question put to me.  So I'm sure I wasn't the best of company, but Oratile never let on.  We got some groceries, I made a lot of impulse purchases like cheese and raman noodles, then we checked the heaviest stuff at the baggage counter, and walked up the street to a sea food restaurant.  I've bragged about the sushi before but it was even better this time!  We both loved the meal.  Dessert was milkshakes from KFC.  I was wearing a University of Kentucky shirt and the guys working there teased me that UK means United Kingdom, then they realized Kentucky meant Colonel Sanders and had all the employees looking at me.  (Aside, KFC is incredibly popular here, the line was out the door at that store all day.  And getting food was surprisingly efficient, I think faster than in the US.)  I saw a fan in a store window and had to buy one.  For only R120 (about $15) I got a 16 inch (English units?) standing fan, a huge necessity because it's literally been about 95 degrees Farenhiet all week, and supposed to be this way until March. 

At the taxi rank, I checked my bags at the bakkie and went with Oratile to her taxi to meet her host sister.  We only just arrived when two guys started to hit on us, the sister and a co-worker ran them off for us.  Oratile says it's a slow day when she gets no marriage proposals, I laughed because I've received very little unwanted attention, and only 9th graders ask for my number.  All too soon she was off and I was waiting at my bakkie. 

Waiting with some grandfathers and a very pregnant woman.  Some drunk, petite old man comes up to me, grasps my shoulders and tries to take me to the bar with him.  I said, "no, I'm waiting here for my transport."  Then he tries to pull me along with him, says he'll give me his number and we'll get married.  (Remember that 10 minutes ago I was laughing about the lack of unwanted attention? Joke's on me.)  I finally manage to disconnect his hands from my arms, and immediately some of the grandfathers step in between us and tell the drunk off.  He tries to hand me a CD but the men stand firm and he leaves. 

I always assumed the gogos would take care of me, but these men are even friendlier.  They get me a chair and keep me company, on the ride back they keep me talking so the miles fly by.  The gogos have to give the bakkie driver directions to my house, it's amazing how everyone knows where I live and how to get me there.  This is at least the second time complete strangers to me have taken me straight home.  I only had two bug shoulder bags and a small box to carry, but Resego (the 3-year-old) ran out to help me.  He carried in my fan (the box) and tried to look through all my purchases.  He got mad when I wouldn't share my coke with him. 

So I ran him out and he took my finger (he's cute when he wants something) to lead me into the house.  Mom was gone somewhere and the boys were alone, we watched Terminator and played like we had the same weapons and fighting ability until they accidentally kicked each other hard enough to bruise.  Then we played outside until mom came home at dark.  When I finally put my groceries away, it was 9 hours after I'd bought the cheese, it was all misshapen from the heat.  I tossed it in the fridge and am incredibly excited to have cheese and crackers for the next several days. 

Tuesday, November 8, 2011

Welcome to my Middle School

There are 19 educators at the Middle School I volunteer at, but it's a good day when half of them show up for school.  And a great day when half of those actually go teach their classes.  Teachers in South Africa in general and this school in particular have little education, no passion, no desire to teach, and certainly don't relate well to the kids.  There are no substitute teachers here, so most of the time the kids are left alone, without supervision.  870+ kids with nothing to do, can you imagine?  Then the educators get mad and start shouting if the kids are misbehaving or noisy or outside of their classroom. 

I steal sticks out of the office whenever I see them, teachers use them to beat the learners.  Not discipline, BEAT.  They get hit (hard!) on the hands and backsides a lot.  I'm sickened by this illegal and immoral practice, but can't seem to get through to the teachers that they shouldn't beat the learners.  This contributes to the fact that everyday is a rollercoaster of emotions for me.  It's rough here, especially in ways I didn't expect. 

The Principal is a wonderful person, but a sub-par boss.  And those same sucky teachers undermine her authority every chance they get.  They've forgotten (or never knew) that this is supposed to be about the kids, about their future and the future of this country.  It's more about the power struggles and politics than anything else.  It's disheartening to say the least. 

Yesterday the Principal collapsed in her office, "probably due to the wind. " Um, excuse me, could it have been your diabetes?  Or a drop in blood pressure?  Or something that makes medical sense?  No, the wind.  She then proceeded to eat, do some paperwork, and have another educator drive her home.  No doctor's visit is planned. 

I've been begging the Principal to have a computer guy come fix the server in their lab so I can start to teach classes. She's seemed excited to have the learners begin to be computer literate and would carry on lengthy discussions about it.  African time, though, meant that only now, 2 months later, is the lab ready for use.  I was thrilled, and asked if I could start after school classes for a few learners since it's so close to the end of the year and I don't want to disturb the school day (mostly I don't want to give the teachers another reason to be annoyed at me).  She surprised me with her refusal.  Grace said that maybe next year we could arrange something, but for now the lab is going to remain closed.  According to her the teachers will use it to enter their grades in the Department of Education software we already have so the AA doesn't have to do it all.  The AA and I tried to explain to her that that software is not on the server in the lab, and anyway none of the teachers will be persuaded to enter grades when they never have before, so that's a lame excuse.  But she's standing firm, no computer classes for the learners this year.  I backed off, it is really close to exams and the end of the year, but next year heads will roll if she tries to keep putting me off. 

At an assembly on Friday the Principal told learners that the School Governing Board passed a policy that no Grade 9 learners this year will be allowed back at the school next year.  In South Africa, almost everyone fails and repeats at least one year.  The high school can choose to not accept learners below a certain level, so lots of kids get stuck in the limbo of Grade 9.  There are some boys in Grade 9 older than I am.  Currently there are 300 Grade 9 learners and only about 20 are expected to pass on to the high school.  What does this mean?  If the policy holds then in January there will be 280 kids with no where to go and nothing to do in this village.  I hope some parent challenges this policy (I looked it up, it is illegal) because I don't even want to imagine this village with that many hooligans running around and causing trouble all day. 
The bright spot in that school for me is the AA, he's about my age and has a good head on his shoulders.  We talk about the absurdities at the school, try to makes plans to change it for the better, and laugh with the kids.  I joke about the "magic in my fingers" whenever I show him something new on the computer, and he just smiles and shakes his head at me.  Until some educator shows up and starts yelling her demands for copies, or computer help, or for me to teach her class. 

Is it any wonder why I spend more time at the Primary School?

Peace Corps has taught me that I don't want kids.

So this 3 year old is living with us now.  I'm not sure what happened, there are like 4 adults in his home in town but no one to watch him.  And in keeping with African Time, where everything is delayed, he's going through his Terrible Threes.  :(

I'm keeping my burglar bars locked so he can't come in my room, and he hates it.  Resego will hang on the bars and beg me to "bula bula open open" but I turn a deaf ear.  I had Lebo explain to him that there is nothing in my room for him, he only gets in trouble by touching my computer or climbing on the bed with his shoes on, so it's better to just stay out.  What 3 year old wants to hear that? 

Most of the time he's sweet and cute, he pretends to read to me and wants to play "vroom vroom" with his trucks.  Then something flips a switch and he bites and hits people.  I wish I could teach him to be better behaved, but I'm not his mother and his grandmother (my host mom) would just undermine me.  She actually laughed when I suggested a time out chair, and told me just to beat him.  I feel like I can't spank or hit his hand at home if I'm trying to discourage beating learners at school.  I don't want to send mixed signals. 

He's the baby of the family, and super spoiled.  He always has a runny nose and sticks his fingers in his mouth then wants you to shake his hand, I'm too OCD for grimy baby hands.  He's grumpy in the mornings and his grandmother caters everything to him.  This morning she didn't say anything when he bit his brother, and later told him that he's too good a boy and she'd have to beat Lebo and me instead of him.  What the heck kind of parenting is that?  I'd hate for our relationship to be ruined because of a 3 year old, but I'm not gonna let him or her walk all over me. 

In short, I was always on the fence about kids, but this is showing me that I really don't want any of my own. 

Friday, November 4, 2011

A bad end to a long week

This week was long, for no good reason. Every day felt like Friday and I seemed to be really tired.  Today is actually Friday, so you'd think I'd be rejoicing.  Instead, I'm hiding out in my room, avoiding all the boys at my house right now.

Last night I heard ANOTHER mouse in my room and despite my exhaustion I feel like I didn't get a wink of sleep.  So I was tired and moody today. 

I fixed my hair into 2 braids this morning for the first time in this village.  I got a LOT of comments about it everywhere I went and it kinda felt like everyone was making fun of my hair style. 

I stopped by the Primary school early to praise the automatic sign in and bell ringer software.  I showed the Principal how to use it and made sure everyone knew the bell would ring automatically on time and no one need worry about it anymore.  It does need electricity though, keep that in mind.

I rushed over to the Middle school to be there for Assembly.  Of course, no one is ready, the teachers are having a staff meeting that pushes 40 minutes into the school day.  Then the teachers must prepare, so almost no learners had class during first or second period.  Today I initiated "Casual Friday" and allowed the learners to wear casual clothes instead of their school uniforms IF they could pay 1 rand for the privilege.  I went around with two girls in Grade 8 to all the classrooms and collected money.  Of course, half the kids who'd dressed casually didn't any money.  Some just stared at me blankly and some said they'd bring it Monday.  I was fed up, all week I had made sure everyone knew if they wore their uniform they didn't need to bring money.  I cowed a few kids with the evil eye, the girls with me threatened a few others, and we'll see if we get any more money on Monday.  As it is, we collected just shy of 400 rand to go towards the school needs.  I was proud of that.

When I handed to money to the Principal, she tells me how upset the teachers are with me.  They didn't want Casual Friday, even though I'd talked about it in a staff meeting and thought they all understood I was going to do this.  The teachers at that school really seem to dislike each other, and do everything they can to make others - especially me and the principal - look bad.  I'm so frustrated by them because they completely forget about or ignore the kids' education.  I knew that no fundraising would get done unless I stepped in to do it, and I knew I'd ruffle feathers, but I thought that maybe this would light a fire under someone to volunteer for the school fundraising committee.  I'm not holding my breath. 

So I left the school earlier than usual.  Back at the Primary School I"m trying to move files from an old laptop to a new external hard drive and make space on the laptop.  It had literally 1 GB of free space on the hard drive.  I'm not as good with computers as I'd like to be, especially one that a South African used for 2 years already, so I'm not working as fast as the Principal seems to expect.  Then the electricity went off, and nothing worked.  No bells to sound class periods, after I had bragged about them all morning.  A man came to fix a copy machine we've had problems with for months and need to have working by Monday, but with no electricity there was nothing he could do.  School dismissed and I rushed home because Lebo is scared to be alone.

My host mom left this morning to attend a funeral tomorrow with her sister.  After she'd made travel arrangements she tells me that a 10th Grade cousin will be coming for the weekend, oh, and he'll be bringing Lebo's 2 year old brother.  "I think it's okay, no?"  So I'm in charge of 3 school boys.  Great.  I had to turn down a trip to Mafikeng with another PCV because I know mom will hold me responsible for everything that happens here this weekend.  Lucky for me my host dad came in for the weekend.  He works in Johannesburg and comes in once a month.  So the men can entertain themselves and I'll work on overdue Peace Corps assignments.  And try to get rid of the mouse. 

On top of all that today, it's been the windiest and dustiest day I've even seen in my life.  With constant wind speeds in excess of 60 mph ALL DAY and tiny dust tornadoes every time I turn around every square inch of my body is covered in a fine layer of dust.  Everything in my room is too, even though the doors and windows are closed.  But there's a crack around everything, so I've swept 3 times already and still watching the dust spread from under the door.  So much dust is in the air that it looks like dusk at 2pm, and it hit my tin roof with such force I thought it had started to hail. 

So TGIF, and I'm sleeping in tomorrow for sure. 

My school has internet now!!

woot woot!

It's not fast, but it works, and on a laptop!  I'm excited to post more frequently!  I even got to take the laptop home this weekend! I’m so spoiled!

This week at the Primary School I've been getting things ready for next year.  I encouraged the Principal to install an automatic bell ringer to signal the end of classes.  We also installed a fingerprint reader so teachers can sign in quickly and easily using their fingerprint in the mornings.  Many of our teachers are nervous about this, a lot of it is superstition I think.  It's working now, but not required of the teachers until the school year starts in January.  I'm encouraging them to get in the habit of using it now.  We got this internet laptop, have almost entered all the grades from last term into the department software and are trying to plan out a new classroom schedule for next year.  I made plans with the math teachers to meet so I can show them the things my sister mailed me from her math teaching days in America.  I'm hoping I can inspire them to try harder, I had to help a high school kid today with homework, and he couldn't even mentally calculate 1+3.  It kinda broke my heart.  Math skills are important to me, and I want to improve the math education of this village. 

At the Middle School I've been spending most of my time with the AA.  I'm helping him enter grades into the software and figure out how to effectively use it.  We had to troubleshoot a little today and I think we were both proud to solve the problem ourselves.  Most of this week I've only seen 7 or 8 teachers at that school.  There are 19, but it's a GOOD DAY when 50% of the educators show up to work.  And then after school I stay to help the AA organize the office, organization is not a high priority here.  I definitely want to throw out the returned checks from 15 years ago, and I hope the Principal and AA allow me to go through files and cabinets to organize.  We talked about music and I gave him a hard time about the movies he hasn't seen.  Today I brought my hard drive today to get a copy of his favorite band's CD.  I totally missed out on the last 15 years of Westlife music, what happened there?

Peace Corps sent us the dates and location of our In-Service-Training in December, so I can start looking forward to that (showers!).  Immediately afterwards I'm going on holiday with 3 other girls, I think we're renting a car and traveling along the Garden Route.  Our plans now include the highest bungee jump in the world, riding ostriches, playing at the beach, a game reserve and scenic views.  I can't wait!! 

Since I can post more frequently now, I'll try to keep these shorter, but since this is basically my journal of probably the most important amazing collective experience of my life so far, I'm not making any promises.  :)