Once in a lifetime

"And you may ask yourself, Well, how did I get here?"

In 7th grade, my class went on a backpacking trip. While the experience was memorable in many ways, the one that stands out now is that it introduced me to the band The Talking Heads. During that 7 hour car ride to Sierra Canyon, my car must have listened to "Psychokiller" at least 30 times. Psychokiller remains a favorite, but when exploring the disography of the Talking Heads, "Once in a lifetime" always stuck a chord in me emotionally.

"And you may tell yourself, This is not my beautiful house"

I moved into my new house on Friday, the day after swear in. My house is not particularly beautiful. Or large. Truthfully, I've lived in dorm rooms larger than it. But it's mine. I spent most of yesterday and today putting together a kitchen. Tonight, I'll be cooking my first meal.

The house is part of a large family compound, the mashiani family. There are eleven family members who live there, a grandmother and a grandfather, three sisters and six children. Have definitely not gotten everyone's names down yet. But they are all incredibly nice and welcoming, while still letting me have my independence.

I met my last supervisor (I apparently have 3, its going to be a bit confusing) and I start work tomorrow. By work, I'm not exactly sure. I plan to do what I did during site visit, which is to follow one of the nurses around. According to Peace Corps, I'm not supposed to do any major work for the first three months, just integrate and study the community. We'll see how it goes.

Bundu is still lovely. It's a tiny village, population of maybe 1000, surrounded by beautiful rolling hills. Sometimes the views take my breath away. There is a strong community here, it seems like everyone knows each other and says hi.The community seems very receptive to me. Even more than receptive, I keep on getting asked about projects people want help on, groups people want to start. It's a bit overwhelming, but very fun. I'm a replacement volunteer, the last volunteer just left and I was lucky enough to meet her and talk to her about Bundu.

"And you may tell yourself, this is not my beautiful wife"

On Thursday and Friday, I had to say goodbye to the 32 other members of SA 25. Because of geographic distance and peace wcorps regulations, the likelihood that I will see any members of the group for the first three months is slim.
Its going to be pretty hard, as I have gotten close with many volunteers. But hanging out with american friends is not why I joined peace corps. Ill just become best friends with my blackberry and think back on good PST memories, knowing that there will be many more to come in the next two years.

These past two months have been incredible. Not without lows, but on the whole, an amazing experience. I have to pinch myself at least once a day, because sometimes the fact that I AM a peace corps volunteer, this is my real life. It seems very surreal at times.

But sometimes as "once in a lifetime" says, this really is my life. And I'm just going to enjoy it

Today was a long day. SA 25 had its host family farewell party, which involved at least six hours of cooking as well as other preparations, speechwriting, dance learning, costume making/dressing... Our group worked hard. The event went off with the usual hitches that I've come to associate with south africa (Too many people! Transportation is late! Not enough food! Everything takes longer than it should and starts late! Why is there six different groups doing the same dance to the same song?). But eventually everyone got fed, we went through the entire program and no fights escalated beyond some yelling. Like most south african events, it ended in a huge dance party, so I'm calling it a success.

Today was one of the last times our whole group will be together for awhile. 33 of us will swear in on thursday and then spread out across the limpopo, mpumalanga and kwazulunatal provinces. For three months, I will probably not see another member of my training group.

I love my training group. The 32 other members are incredibly fantastic individuals. Unfortunately, even after the 3 month lockdown period, many of my closest friends are going to be 6 to 15 hours away.

But although I'd love to live much closer to some of these fantastic people, that's not what peace corps is about. Its about changing communities, changing lives and integrating fully into my community, which is much harder to do when surrounded by other americans.

So when the vans come to take everyone away, I will be sad. I might even cry. But for my community and for myself, this is necessary for growth. And when it gets bad, I can chat with people using my blackberry, as well as planning trips with friends. Thank god for blacberries.

" You seem to get sick a lot"

That quote came from one of my peace corps medical officers, or pcmos for short. As of today, I can award myself with the dubious honor of being the sickest person in my training class. I have been down for the count with 3 different illnesses, as far as I know, the most times someone has been sick besides me is once. Or twice with the same illness both times.

1.5 weeks in, I woke up with angelina jolie sized lips. My lips kept on swelling up so it looked like I had gotten into a fight with a plastic surgeon. Then my eyes started swelling up as well, so I could barely open them. When a rash started to accompany this, I called the pcmo. The culprit was mangos. Turns out although even though I had eaten and enjoyed mangos in the states, nicaragua and vietnam, these south african mangos made my immune system go haywire

4 weeks in, one night I could sleep, my whole body was itchy. I woke uop to an angry red rash on my neck, chest and face. Aafter a four hour wait at the clinic, I was diagnosed with a photodermatitic reaction. Sun exposure had given me a rash. So I am now allergic to mangos and the sun. And I'm in africa. Great.

Then last night, after a day with a dull headache I wake up in the middle of the night shivering. I have a fever... And the only prescription is more cowbell! That or asprin. I sleep walk through most of today, with my temperature bouncing between 102 and 96 (I didn't even know it could go that low) until I finally call my pcmo who tells me its probably a virus and I just have to wait it out.

With all that, and the immense number of scrapes/ bugbites (so much that I have been asked what happened by a couple trainees), the common joke is that I'm allergic to south africa. And I have two more years here

My response is bring it on south africa.

But truthfully I can only say that because our pcmos/peace corps health care is fantastic. Rides/chaperones to the clinic, two fabulous medical professionals on call 24/7, meds delivered to my door!

So may the force and fabulous health care be with me!

Sanibonani! That is hello in zulu, the language I am now learning. I'm typing this from my newly acquired smartphonen so this is slow going. Its been about six weeks in south africa. I've lost about five pounds, developed allergies to both mangos and the sun, have met many fabulous people, both american and south african.
I'm on mý way to polokwane for a conference to meet my supervisor. I'm going to be working at goederede clinic in bundu, mpumalanga province. It's the same place as our training site, so I'm hitting the ground running, with tons of contacts I've made already and ideas for secondary projects coming at warp speed. -'m really happy. And excited about the next two years!