The Wonderful Land of Moz

I made it back from Mozambique safely! I know I didn’t post it up here, but a couple of months ago a few friends approached me about planning a trip to Mozambique, and since their time frame worked well with my schedule I figured ‘why not?’ By the time we actually got down to leaving for the trip, two weeks ago, I was a bit of a stressed out mess, and the Moz trip was kind of my “light at the end of the tunnel.”

I tried to think of a way to write this post so that it comes off as entertaining and insightful, not too boring to read, but also letting you know details...what I came up with is that I just need to post a ton of pictures, so that is what I am going to do.

This was what our walk home in the evening looked like

The first leg of the trip consisted of the four of us meeting up in Gabs and then catching a bus down to Joburg. For informational purposes to my fellow volunteers or travelers, let me make quick note that there are a few ways to do this: Intercape leaves-6am, from Kudu gas station at Main Mall, arrives around noon/ 1 o’clock and costs about p230. TJs leaves at 8am, from the rank, arrives around 2pm, and costs p200 (no longer an option.) There is also a regular combi system that leaves from the rank whenever they fill up and costs p200. We took the Intercape because it seemed like the easiest option, and after a quick stopover in Pretoria, got to the Joburg bus station around 1pm.

Chad, Boo and Aimee, starting our
vacation off right!

From there we met up with a friend of a friend named Alex, who is pretty much living the do-gooder dream in South Africa while being self employed in the social and urban development scene. She gave us the run down on where we should check out, and what we should do and what we should avoid doing in order not to turn into a mugging statistic in some back alley somewhere. We left our packs at her place and after very little debate decided that the best way to enjoy ourselves before catching our night bus was to go to a place called “SAB World of Beer” which was just a couple of blocks over.

Chad and I enjoying a beer

People of the interwebs, this place was pretty much a Disney land attraction for adults, themed around beer, we hit the jackpot! We caught a tour just as it was leaving and the first room you walk into is modeled to look like the inside of an ancient Egyptian pyramid. After reading a little bit about the “first beers” we sat down to watch a 3D looking animated flick that told us how beer saved the world. I’m not even kidding with this last part, they literally said “sit down and find out how beer saved the world.” Something that I had always felt in my heart, but didn’t have proof of until now.

The whole tour was hilarious, it cost R65, and we got a commemorative glass (that came filled with beer), and two vouchers to get drafts at the end of the tour on a deck that has some pretty cool views of the city.

It was a great idea, and we had a really fun time. It truly felt like the first real step in our vacation and as we raised a glass over a bowl of peanuts, we toasted to what we knew was going to be a fabulous trip.

We caught the night bus from Joburg to Maputo at 10pm at night, big double decker, air conditioned, wonderfulness. We used Intercape again and I think it cost us about p310. Leave at 10pm, wake up at 8am in Maputo! Maputo is the capital of Mozambique, we were staying the night at Fatima's, and since we got in so early, we wanted to do a bit of exploring.

Aimee was pumped about the seafood

It is at this point I would like to issue a travel warning for people working their way through Moz: if you are in the capital, make sure you keep your passport locked safely somewhere, and that you carry around with you just a copy. If you get stopped by the cops and you show them the copy and they say it has to be notarized, or they will have to bring you in (unless of course you give them everything in your wallet), tell them to bring you in. The cops in Mozambique are corrupt, or at least this is what we heard at practically every turn, and though we didn’t run into any trouble, we talked to a few people who had.

fish market!

So we made our way to the fish market. Let me make it clear that one of the top objectives for everyone on this trip, was to eat as much seafood as humanly possible. Bots is landlocked, and unless you live up near the delta where there are river fish, getting any sort of seafood is impossible. Mozambique on the other hand has a long luxurious ocean coast line, which means it has nommy seafood coming out of its ears. We found the
fish market, and pretty much toppled over each other to look at everything and haggle prices (another thing you can do in Moz that you can’t do in Bots.) We ended up buying a half kilo of crab, half kilo squid, half kilo calms and half kilo of fish, which we turned around and brought to one of the restaurants to cook up for us. I highly suggest anyone traveling here do the same, they cook it up for you and charge by the kilo and if you are any good at all with negotiating prices, you will end up saving yourself a lot of money.

We sat under a canopy and enjoyed the hustle and bussle around us, as plate after delicious plate of aquatic amazingness was brought out to us. You would have thought that we hadn’t been fed in years based on how quickly we devoured everything.

Bags hanging in the market

We decided this just wasn’t going to be enough so before leaving we stopped into the market again and bought things to make a giant salad, as well as a kilo of prawns and calamari to cook up in the hostels kitchen. Caught a cab back to the hostel, dropped everything in the fridge and then went out again to check out the craft market. The craft market was cool, and had I not been living in Bots for the past year and a half, I might have been a bit more impressed, but ultimately it was stall after stall of the same things, and prices that were inflated to a ridiculous degree. A few of us found some good deals, but I think this was mostly due to the fact that it is low tourist season (December and January are high season) at the moment, and so everyone is itching for money.

Our awesome curry prawn calamari!

We walk back to the hostel and on the way pick up some curry and rice. Maputo is a lovely city to stroll through and it seems like every street is just lined with people wanting to sell you fresh produce, so we were all leaving a drool trail along the road. We just don’t have those kinds of vegetables in Botswana.We cooked an amazing meal of coconut, curry prawns and calamari, with a huge house salad, while each tossing back a few more beers. I think the people around us were a bit surprised to see such a major undertaking going on, but PCVs tend to know how to work together and the effort put into the food made itself clear while dancing across our taste buds and into our bellies.

Peace Corps will teach you to sleep
ANYWHERE

Next morning, wake up at the crack of butt to catch a combi to Tofo, our main destination. Fatima’s had a bus that went directly from their place in Maputo to their hostel in Tofu, but we thought we could save a little money by going to the rank. We were wrong, if you are doing this trip, just take the bus from the hostel. After 7hrs on the bus, we pulled into Tofo, made our way to the first beach access and ran directly into the ocean while fully clothed. I grew up in Michigan, the Great Lakes State; and never in my life have I been more than a 20min drive from a major body of water that I could swim in. Being in Botswana is like sucking all the soul water from my body and the only way to put it back is by running into bodies of water whenever humanly possible.

The water was AMAZING! This was my first time in the Indian Ocean, and there wasn’t even a slight shock when we went in, it was just warm, and salty and welcoming. We splashed around for a bit, put our packs back on and started huffing it down the beach towards our lodge.

the view from a much more expensive lodge that we did not stay in

$5 fancy drinks at above lodge

We made it to Bamboozi, and found out that we were pretty much the only ones there, aside from our new travel buddy that we had met back in Maputo. We booked ourselves into the dorm, freshened up a bit (they had hot showers!!! ...Well, they had hot showers before 10am in the morning, and after 4:30pm at night because those were the only times that the lodge had electricity.) Then we took the restaurant recommendation of a friend and wandered around until we found a little place called Tofo Tofo.

Tofo craft market

We ended up eating here 4 times over the course of the week. It is kind of the place to go, and it attracts a fun mix of tourists, divers and locals, and the prices are completely reasonable. The first night we did a family style dinner and ordered a MT700 seafood platter (for those keeping track that translates to about $20), clams, and clamari. The seafood platter we got pretty much every time we went because it came with lobster, fish, crab cakes, fried calamari heads, garlic calamari rings, prawns, and crayfish with a side of rice and chips. Every night you get a little something different, but every night it is amazing. To save us some time on food descriptions, because this post is now approaching the 2000 word mark here is what we ordered at one time or another at Tofo Tofo: seafood pasta, tuna fillet, tuna salad, curried fish, prawns, clams, and everything that was mentioned above. I don’t think I spent more than $25 USD on any meal we had there, and the average was really closer to $10.

Being silly

That night we met up with a bunch of Peace Corps Mozambique Volunteers who happened to be congregating in Tofo to throw a COS party for a group of theirs that was heading out. It was really fun meeting volunteers from another country, though I have to say that hearing about some of their sites, especially ones that were on or close to beach, made all of us a little green with envy.

y'all have no idea how badly
I flipped when I saw this at the
gas station!

The week continued on with the epicness with which is started. We sat on the beach, visited the craft market in Tofo, ate a ton of seafood, took walks along the shoreline, drank beers with the locals, swam in the ocean and generally let out a huge, collective sigh of relief that, not only were we not in Botswana any more, but that we picked a place that looked like it was the theme for every tropical postcard you have ever seen. I’m going to give you a rundown of what I believe were the three major highlights of the trip, going from least to most mind blowing.

Me checking out a mussel

#3: After meeting up with one of the local guys who hangs out at Bamboozi, he offered to let us come over to house, and watch/ help him prepare a traditional meal. He offered us a wildly fair price, and so on Wednesday morning we trucked over to Bernardo’s house and helped him make some food. Traditional food in Moz is slightly different than Bots. Instead of bean leaf morogo, they have something called mathapa, which is another green leafy substance that can be mashed up and cooked inside a pot. It isn’t as bitter as morogo, and all of us agreed that we were big fans of the stuff. During this whole process we learned how to dehusk a coconut, crack it open, gut the flesh, and make coconut milk which was pretty cool. We also picked up a few words of Ntonga, which is the native village language of the area (though everyone speaks Portuguese as well.)

traditional meal

The meal was awesome, we had mathapa, rice, crab, mussels, salad, bread and beer. Bernardo’s family was a pleasure to be around, and watching Bernardo work was also pretty wonderful. We ate in a frond woven, open air, outdoor hut, and left feeling completely full, and a few belt notches larger.

#2: The second night we were in Tofo we were all hanging out on the porch at Bamboozi that overlooks the beach. We were drinking some of the local Tipo Tinto Rum (you get 500ml for MT60, or $2, and I’m pretty sure it kills at least a few brain cells.) At some point in the night someone mentioned that there must be a car on the beach, because you could look down and see what appeared to be tire tracks. We didn’t pay much mind until we were starting to wrap things up. It was then that we realized that the thing leaving the tracks was not at all a car, and was in fact, still on the beach. We all raced down from the porch and found to our delight a GIGIANTIC LEATHERBACK SEA TURTLE!

Leatherback

I cannot stress to you, how mind blowingly cool this was. She was about the size of a go kart, and when we got down there it appeared she had come up to lay her eggs. She was easily a ton or two, and yet was able to repeal herself through the sand using her flippers. Even the local guys we were with were freaking out, since none of them had seen a turtle that size ever either. We took a few pictures, watched her for a bit, and at some point she turned around and started heading back to the sea without ever having laid any of her eggs. We were all buzzing with what had to be a rare wildlife encounter high.

tracks

The next day, we were at the Liquid Adventures dive shop inquiring about some fun activities and we mentioned the turtle. Nadia (the manager at the dive shop) thought it was cool, and said that we had probably seen a lager head turtle, and that they were somewhat common around these parts, but that seeing one on the beach was a special treat. Aimee whipped out her camera to show her a picture and Nadia’s jaw pretty much dropped to the ground. “HOLY F&%$, THAT’S A LEATHERBACK!” was her response, and immediately told us to get in touch with the Marine Mega Fauna people, who have an office in Tofo.

The Mega Fauna people were just as blown away, and came up the next day to see the tracks that were still left on the beach. At this point we were all kind of feeling a bit bad that we might have scared this momma turtle off from laying her eggs, but it turns out she wasn’t nearly as far up the beach as she would have needed to be, and that since the beach is still relatively public, it is probably a good thing she didn’t build a nest there. They got copies of all of our pictures, and thanked us a ton for letting them know about the sighting. They haven’t seen a leatherback anywhere in two breeding seasons, and two of the people we have talked to have never seen a leatherback at all. This was mainly due to the fact that locals poach both the eggs and the turtles themselves, and the population has slowly been dwindling. As a quick plug, if you are interested in volunteering with the Marine Megafauna people in Tofo, or just going to one of their tri-weekly marine lectures while you are visiting, check out their website:

http://www.marinemegafauna.org/

After that you must be wondering what #1 is going to be, I mean, how the heck do you beat seeing a turtle on the endangered species list, up close and personal?

You get up close and personal with something bigger J

#1, on Claire’s Mind Blowing Stuff We Did on Vacation is...I swam with TWO, HUGE, Whale Sharks.

Peter's camera was broken but this is what it looked like
(plus a hyperventilating, flailing ginger chick) 

Tofo is an amazing place not only because of its picturesque beaches, amazing food, friendly locals, and chilled out vibe. It also happened to be a place where you can watch humpback whales migrate as well as swim with whale sharks. We were going to pass this once in a life time opportunity up, so we signed up for an ocean safari and hoped for the best. Safaris of any kind, in any country, are a tricky business. You are relying on animal behavior to create an attraction, and animal behavior is relatively unpredictable; so we knew going into this, that there was a chance that we wouldn’t seen any, in fact the outing the day before our trip had come back with just that...diddly.

You can't see him, but there is a whale
shark under us

We geared up at the Liquid, and walked down to the beach to board our boat. This thing was pretty much an oversized life raft, with an on board motor, which I thought was cool because it seemed more authentic than some sort of tug boat deal. There is not a single dock in Tofo, which is awesome. They took us out of the bay and around the corner, and we all just kind of sat out there and enjoyed the ride. Then our guide, Peter, starts exclaiming “Whale shark! Whale shark! Put on your masks!” The captain drives us a few meters in front of the thing and we are told to fall in backwards and “LOOK DOWN!” It was all crazy hectic, but I managed to get myself in the water, adjust my snorkel, and look down.

This was the part when I almost crapped myself. A huge, 6meter whale shark is swimming directly at us, and

In my mind though, I like to think I looked like this 

in the briefing it had been made clear that these things are big, so they aren’t going to move for you, you have to move for it. We all scramble to get out of the way, and I attempted to talk myself down from hyper ventilating. Peter said we could swim along with them as long as we could, or until it dives back down deep. This first foray into the water I have to say that I was a little freaked so I probably surfaced too soon, but as soon as I did I see Peter pointing at another spot in the water not too far from me and yelling that he sees another one.

I can’t remember if they collected and dropped us again or if I just swam over, all I know is that when I looked down again, the first guy had circled around, and the new whale shark friend was hanging out. At this point I have two 6-7meter whale sharks in my line of sight. It is overwhelming, you both want to cry and giggle, and even though you know logically that these giants of the deep aren’t going to eat you, it is still shaped like a shark, and it is hard to override your biological reaction of “holy ball sac, this thing is going to eat me and I need to get out of the water right now.” After the third dive in though, you get used to it, and by the last go around I swam next to one for somewhere between 15-20mins.

Cultural Center in Inhabane (we took
a day trip there.)

They are amazing creatures, big and majestic, and powerful. Their mouths could easily swallow a human, and yet all they want are plankton...a butt load of plankton. We lucked out, even after climbing into the boat a final time, we saw another two on our way back to shore. It is the most Peter had seen pretty much all season in one outing, and because we went out in the afternoon, we didn’t even have to share the water with another tour boat. I was on an animal high for the rest of the day, and most of the day afterwards, and am currently smiling just remembering it all.

Cool old theater in Inhabane

Lastly, a few days in we took a side trip to Inhabane, which is just a 40 min (very crowded) combi ride away from Tofo. It was a cool little spot, and we picked up some cash at the ATM while strolling around. Aimee and Boo and I went on an epic hunt for ice cream (which we found) and it was nice hanging out on the pier and walking through the market. We also found super cheap mathapa, a really cool looking theater, and a beautiful cultural center. If you happen to be in the area we were also told it would be worth the ferry ride to go to Mashishi, which apparently is the place that all the vendors get their craft goods. We were just in for the day so we opted out, but the boat ride would have been pretty fun. Heads up: the whole town follows siesta so don't try and go shopping between 2-5pm!

cramming into the combi

It was an amazing trip, and one that I didn’t even really know I needed that badly. I am now back in Rams safe and sound, and feeling like I can tackle the next 7 months with renewed vigor. Ultimately I have a wonderful array of stepping stones that are going to lead up to the end of my service here, and Moz was just the first one. I’m coming home for Christmas next month, my parents and my Mom’s friend Kristin are coming out to visit in February, our group has our COS conference in March, and then I am going to Indonesia and Thailand for a month after service. This trip for me is marking not so much the beginning of the end, but more the beginning of the downhill. I have about 4 projects I would like to see fully accomplished before I close out, and after that I am no longer going to be trying to accomplish much more here.

Looking for humpbacks

A few notes with that: I have officially decided not to seek an extension on my service here. I have a family and someone special to get home to, and I think my time in Botswana has been enough for me. I know I have been on and off about this over the past few months, but I decided a few weeks ago that it is time for the next chapter, and I’m both petrified and looking forward to it.

For those of you that actually made it to the end of this post, thank you for reading! Hope all is well, wherever you may be.

Hugs and smooches,
Claire

p.s. for info purposes: we took intercape back to Joburg, and then took the last combi from Joburg to Gabs. I do NOT recommend staying in the neighborhood that the Joburg bus rank is located in for any longer than you have to, and unless it is early in the day, you are risking it with the combi because if it doesn't fill up, it won't leave and the Bots border closes as 12pm (it takes about 5hrs to get there from the rank.)

you have no idea how many times we
had to try this to get it right

New Rainy Beginnings

This is me sitting outside the library (I poked the assistant into letting me keep the gate key and return it to him when I am done) with my jacket over my head and computer, because today, ladies and gentleman, it rained.

It has been a rough couple of weeks here, I have been having a lot of self confidence issues, some questions about the future, and a few medical problems. I keep wondering if people around me think I am weird in a not so good way. I feel like I am back in high school again.

But today is a new day, and today is my day, and today it rained.

I can not describe what it is like the first day it rains here, at least not in words that someone who has not lived without rain for nearly 9 months could ever understand. The rain settles down the dust, and cools the air. It brings life to the soil and the people, it is like a new year, a new feeling, a new season. The rain here comes at a time when the cattle are thinning out, and people have become tense (the rain this year came a month later than it did last year, and last year it was also considered "late.") It brings with it a sense of relief that is felt throughout the community, it brings hope for the new season of crops, and the possibility of life to an often barren land.

It brings green

Over the next few weeks the green in my now very orange and dusty village, will explode as if it has been waiting for the invitation to pounce. It will race down our dusty main road, creep up the rocks in the hills, and envelop every yard and tree it touches. It will expand and breath and live and flourish, it will make the African heat that follows the rains, just bearable; as if God is saying "I know its hot, but look how beautiful it is."

So I am going to take this rain and make it my own. I'm going to allow it to wash off the emotionally crap filled last few weeks, and make room for something new, something green, something fresh. I'm going to breath in the air anew, and let is fill my lungs with possibility. This is the beginning, this is the end, this is today and today it rained.

~Claire

Road Not Taken

"Art is the conversation between lovers.

Art offers an opening for the heart.

True art makes the divine silence in the soul

Break into applause."

~Hafiz

This month’s self improvement theme has been music, which means that I have actually looked up lessons on how to play the harmonica on youtube, sang out loud (instead of just in my head) every night, and will be getting my hands on a ukulele tuner within the next few days. All of this music making has got me thinking about my “lost love” or more so, the path not taken.

For those of you who are not in the group of family and friends that are close to me, it may surprise you that I was once pretty “into” music. Not only was I “into” music, but I was into musical theater, and choir and an a cappella group and that I have a long standing, on again, off again relationship with guitar. In high school I was a part of 6 major musicals (including an opera), 3 variety shows, a competition short, and once performed at Disney World as a part of a singing group, The Loreleis. All of this accumulated in me auditioning for about a dozen musical theater programs at the start of my senior year in high school. I was wait listed at one, and rejected from the rest.

At this point in my little story I would like to point out that the largest program I auditioned for took 30 people a year; 15 boys and 15 girls, and that is pretty much the standard when it comes to programs like that; thousands of people competing for between 5-15 spots. Getting into musical theater college is hella hard, and the vast majority of people end up more like me and less like Rachael on “Glee.”

So I quickly came up with a contingent plan and applied last second to Michigan State and DePaul and happened to get my Michigan State acceptance first, so I took it. This ended up being one of the best happenings in my life because I found James Madison Residential College, and learned that my passion for culture, people and politics was equally as intoxicating. I briefly attempted to get into the MSU Jazz program as a double major but got a “delayed rejection” (whatever the hell that means.) I sang in a few competitions and made a little bit of money, but mostly relegated my musical career to karaoke nights, the shower and, once I moved into an apartment, the kitchen.

My love affair with singing and music has never completely let up, and had I not gotten into Peace Corps when I did, my back up plan was to go audition for American Idol in South Carolina. I think about it a lot, this road not taken. I think about what would have happened had I tried a little harder, focused a little more, studied for my auditions a few hours a day instead of a few hours a week, or just continued to try and fight even after getting rejected. Singing still fills my soul in ways that I have yet to see matched in much, though talking about political ethics and cultural comparisons comes damn close, and there are times when not to sing at any given moment can be painful in ways that only an artist could understand.

But then I think about where I am now, and what I am doing. Had I gotten into a musical theater program I would not be talking to all of you through this blog. I wouldn't be Botswana because I never would have joined the Peace Corps. I wouldn't be self studying on gender, queer theory, social dynamics, and expression because I would be boning up for auditions in whatever major city I had moved to after graduation. I don’t think I would have had the type of work ethic that is needed to really make it in that business. I know people, and have friends that are doing it, and I look at them at times a wonder where all the energy comes from.

This month has been wonderful so far, because I have forced myself into a regular musical practice again, and I think I will continue to do so for the rest of my service. When I get back to Michigan I’m going to look into doing some community theater, and the karaoke will for continue. Who knows? Maybe the path not taken will loop around to me again in ways I’m not expecting?

As a way to try and get people to comment more, I'm going to offer this up: if four or more people comment on this post, I will sing into my web cam and post it up here for everyone. You may like my singing, you may not like my singing, but either way you will get it if you comment! Will also keep me accountable to my goal this month :)

Just some thoughts for the day.

Hugs and smooches,

Claire   

Because Sometimes It Just Falls Into Your Lap...

After that last post, I wanted to try and lighten the mood and bring up a really wonderful project that has started to take root in my village. Around December of last year I got an email from a fellow Volunteer named Bridgette, who wanted to know if anyone was interested in organizing reusable sanitation pads for the women and girls in their village through the Days for Girls Organization. I said I was on board and would help however I could. The process was long, and slow and I don't know how Bridgette did it (but I'm so glad that she did!) Hats off for her determination and muchos gracias for the fact that she kept me in the loop even when I wasn't the most responsive of people to work with on the occasion.

Life has a way of working out, and on my way back down from Independence Day in Maun, I was able to transport about 50 kits back to Rams! Days for Girls is an amazing organization that realized that feminine hygiene in third world areas can be really hard to deal with. A lot of girls stop going to school while on their periods because they don't want to stain or mess their clothing in front of their peers. In my village, though sanitary napkins are available in most stores, they are incredibly expensive, so a lot of women just end up shoving nylons or toilet paper into the underwear and hope for the best. This is no way to live and I'm pumped about possibly improving the situation (while also having an opportunity to add a health talk or two in there.)

Here is what is included in each kit:
- Two "shields", which I like to call "holders." In this picture they are the purple rectangles to in the center that snap into the panties and hold the liners in place.
- Eight liners. This is the awesome fabric that acts like the pad and can be washed and replaced!
- Set of visual directions. One of my biggest pet peeves here is when organizations come in and try and do everything in English. These directions are completely visual and don't include any text!
- Pair of Panties
- Wash cloth
- Two gallon size zip lock bags. These are perfect for if you need to replace a pad in the middle of the day and don't have an easy place to put it
- Bar of hotel sized soap
- All of this comes in a super cute drawstring bag so you don't have to worry about anybody getting embarrassed!

I have 27 kits for girls and another 24 for women and today we had our first meeting with the Junior Secondary School to target girls who are going to be most in need of them. We also talked about how we could give the sewing pattern to the Home Ec class and they could start making them on their own. In addition to this we are going to talk to the local seamstress and any other interested women in attempting to make this a "reusable" income project. Ha ha ha :) The clinic is going to target the majority of the women who need pads, the JSS about 20 girls and then we are going to have the Village Development Committee try and find another 7 girls who may have dropped out of school, who are in need.

The great thing about all of this is that all of these organization are going to make lists of girls and women in need so that when I go home in December for Christmas I can try and bring some kits back. These lists will also be great for when the village starts producing their own, so we can target who needs them more quickly. I'm really excited for this project, and it all started because I responded to an email about a year ago. I think this could be a really wonderful opportunity to talk to the girls about empowering themselves, and have larger health talks with the community about topics such as HIV/AIDS, adherence to medication, teenage pregnancy and contraception.

This also came at a time when I really needed it. I needed a "win" this week pretty badly considering what has been going on, and it has totally come about through the grace of God and the universe. A few other things went down today that I would like to add: I had a great meeting with a guy from the village over about how he wants to try and mobilize youth to vote (I should make it VERY clear that this project isn't about campaigning, just about getting people to vote at all. The Peace Corps does not allow Volunteers to get involved in politics, and I agree with this policy wholeheartedly.) The main librarian also just came back from some emergency leave and asked to meet with me tomorrow about getting the ball rolling on the STEPS films nights!

Lastly, I went and had a game night with a few people at my friend Shannon's place this weekend. I got a ton of new kitchen/ food stuff from her (she is in the Bots 11s and will be COSing next week) and as kind of an afterthought I picked up a book of poetry by Hafiz that had been translated into English. It has been bringing about some wonderful reading and inspiration, and I love how the whole things is written like a love letter to God and the universe and humanity. With that in mind I would like to post one here for you, all of you, and especially the ones that might really need it today. As always, thanks for stopping by.

Hugs and Smooches,
Claire

The Great Work

By: The Great Sufi Master Hafiz 

Translated by Daniel Ladinsky

Love

Is the great work

Though every heart is first an 

Apprentice

That slaves beneath the city of Light.

This wonderous trade,

This magnificent throne your soul

Is destined for--

You should not have to think

Much about it,

Is is not clear

An Apprentice needs a teacher

Who himself

Has charmed the universe

To reveal its wonders inside his cup.

Happiness is the great work, 

Though every heart must first become

A student

To one

Who really knows

About Love.

"Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful committed citizens can change the world: indeed its the only thing that ever has." ~Margaret Mead

I Am Not Dirty

TRIGGER WARNING: This post deals with the topic of sexual harassment/ assault

I wrote this up a few days ago and have debated whether or not to post it, but I have come to the conclusion that I did not start this blog as a tool of recruitment for Peace Corps, but because I wanted to give you my insights into service, and my experience, and this is part of what that all is. I'm fine now, I'm still 100% confident in my decision to join Peace Corps, and for the most part feel completely safe here. 

I want to preface this post with how much I love being a woman. I want to make it clear that I adore being female, and what that means and how it contributes to how I see and interact with the world. I understand that I have also benefited greatly from cis-gendered privilege (i.e. I was born with female sex organs and also identify as female) and am thankful for that. This is not about how I feel about my gender but about how the world deals with it.

With that said, there are times when I just wish I could be a guy. What I should be saying in this sentence is that there are times when I wish I didn't have to deal with the crap that goes along with being female, but I know this isn't going to happen within my life time, and it seems like the only way to escape it is to be male. I was so excited about getting dressed up for Botswana Independence Day and the party that my friend Daniella was hosting. I did my makeup, I had cute sandals on, Danny showed me how to use hair products and I wore a “new” dress (inherited from another volunteer.) I looked adorable, and I felt fierce and I just wanted to be able to dance my booty off; and for the first three hours, I was able to do that.

Then the party died down a bit and there were just three of us girls along with about 6 guys. 5 of these men were awesome; talking, dancing, laughing, and having a good time, but among men there always seems to be a boy. This guy would not stop grabbing me, despite me pushing him away and telling him to back off, multiple times.

Those of you who come here a bit more often have probably read my "A Letter to Men" post, and I want you to know that this post is not going to be like that. I don’t want to talk about how horrible this guy was, I want to talk about how pissed I was at my own reaction, and the mental process I went through both during and after this point in the party. I did not swear this guy out in the middle of a group of people, I didn't punch him in the face, I didn't scream and order him out, and I should have. When the harassment started I figured pushing him off and telling him to stop would be enough, but it became clear pretty quickly that this wasn't going to work. Everyone was having a good time and drinking, and I didn't want to be the party pooper.

At this moment I would like to say something along the lines of “I hope this story doesn't prevent those of you reading this from joining Peace Corps” but to be honest, I think most women who are willing or have already done some world travel, know that they are signing up for this.

My next tactic was letting people know I was getting sleepy and that I was going to go lock myself in the bedroom. At this point a friend of mine pointed out that she would be the only girl up then. She was saying this because she didn't want to party alone, and because she wanted to hang out with me more, and because I hadn't made it clear to her that I was trying to get away from someone. How it read to me though, was that if I left, she would be the new target, and so I stayed out in the main room. This is how women think, and for the men reading this, don’t you dare think that I’m the exception. We socialize in packs, because there are safety in numbers. I couldn't leave her behind.

So I took it, I kept pushing him away and telling him to stop and not escalating it any further than that even though I knew in the back of my mind that I should. This is not how all women would have reacted, I know plenty who would have brought it to the level that it needed to go to truly get this guy to stop. Public humiliation works great in this country, and yet I didn't take it there. I didn't want to screw up the good mood of the party, I didn't want to embarrass a guest in a home in which I was also a guest, and I didn't want to be that whinny woman that couldn't just take it. I consider myself a pretty powerful, confident person and yet this was what going through my mind, this is why I didn't tell the little shit to go screw himself. 

Things got worse...

Two days later while hitching back to my village I got a ride with a man I had seen a few times driving through Ramokgonami. He is in his mid-50s and runs the hardware shop in the village over. I was tired, I was still feeling dirty and violated from the two nights before, and I just wanted to get home to be able to be in my own safe space. We spent the entire ride with him putting his hand on my leg and me removing it. He would also take my hand, kiss it, and rub it on his face. I felt completely trapped since we were in the middle of the bush at this point. He kept saying how beautiful he thought I was, and how he had so much love in his heart for me, but not "dirty" love. 

I spent the next twenty four hours trying to feel "clean" again which involved working out at 5am in the morning and curling into a ball on the floor and crying.My phone was broken so my normal support network was also cut off to me. Again, I felt like I had failed myself, that I was the one to blame for not being louder, more persistent, for not giving both these men hell for what they were doing. During all of this my wiser, more logical self kept trying to push gentle reminders that none of this was my fault, but for a while my more hysterical side tended to be louder. I worked at a sexual assault center for a year, I knew better than to victim blame, especially when the person blaming and getting blamed are both you. Maybe part of this comes from some internal issues but another part of it comes from social conditioning.

This is where we get into a conversation about why I felt like my personal comfort is an acceptable price to maintain a nice atmosphere for those around me, but the thing is, is I don’t know why. I grew up around strong women, I was told that my body is mine and no one else’s and that others should treat it with respect, I was given every opportunity to empower myself, and yet when this particular time came, the prospect of confrontation kept me silent. It is like an extreme version of those moments when you are arguing with someone and then realize what you really wanted to say only after you have walked away from it.

Here is the real mind blowing bit though, at the end of the night, after screaming and running my hands through my hair about a million times, and cleaning things up just so I didn't have to think about what had just happened. I was more angry with myself than I was with this pink shorts wearing bastard, and placed more of the fault on my own shoulders than I did on either of theirs. I was not raised to take this! I was not educated and empowered to be this woman! I WAS GIVEN A VOICE! And yet here I was, not only unable to use it, but blaming myself in the process. This was not my fault, this guy should have stopped doing what he was doing the first time I shoved him off me and told him to stop (hell, he should not have been doing it in the first place), I shouldn't have had to have a plan b. Here is where we come back to the beginning.

At some point, in my objectification, in my humiliation, in my self-blame comes the sad truth that no matter how empowered I am, it is a man’s job to take it to the last step. To stop objectifying, humiliating and creating situations in which he is the creator of my blame. This won’t happen in my life time. I’m all about being a step in the journey to reach this goal, but I won’t reap the ultimate benefit of equality. We aren't even close yet, we haven’t even begun to see the light in the end of the tunnel even though we have been in the dark for so incredibly long, and have come so incredibly far from where we started. Since I will not be around for the end of the tunnel, I want to be outside it. I want to be able to be a guy, the type of guy that should be, the type of guy I know exists in abundance out there.

I want to be able to walk around the streets at night, I want to be able to buy booze without being looked at like a floozy, I want to wear whatever I want without worrying about someone invading my space, I want to travel to ANY COUNTRY I want, I want to be more likely to be given a raise, and piss wherever I want without worrying that someone is going to follow me into the bush and watch (yeah, that happened.) I don’t want to have to travel in a pack because I want to know that I don’t have an especially large target on my back. I don’t want to have to constantly be explaining to the opposite sex how “yes, if you tell enough ‘women’ jokes, it does make you a chauvinist asshole; there is a line, and if you are asking, you have probably crossed it.” I don’t want to have to worry getting kicked out of a hitch because the creepy old driver keeps putting his hand on my leg. I want to be too tired to speak up, and not have to worry about it because no one is trying to get at me. I want to have a voice and not have to use it so damn freaking much.

Most importantly though, when these things happen, which they will, I want the woman who is going through it not to blame herself as I was. I want her to feel supported and loved and safe enough in her own skin to

be able to say "this was horrible and crappy, but it was not my fault and I am not to blame." I was not to blame for what happened this weekend, and those of you out there that share this experience, you are not to blame either. We don't have to come up with excuses to clear our name, we don't have to convince people that we couldn't have done anything more to avoid the situation, it is not our fault, we do not carry the burden of proof when it comes to our own innocence. 

"Until we are all free, none of us are free." ~Emma Lazarus

Life Lessons Learned

I have been doing a lot of posts on what is physically going on in my life and I wanted to take an opportunity to put up something a bit more thoughtful. Some of the posts I am most proud of are the ones that have been focused on my experience on a more mental level. My entry"Chunky Dunkin: A Fat Girl's Guide to Peace Corps" is about 30 hits away from having had 1,000 reads, which is awesome considering how specific an audience this blog plays to, and it was a combination of physical realities of my service, meshed with my thoughts on them.

That all being said, I want to reflect a bit on some things I have learned about myself while on this Peace Corps journey of mine. Some of these things are going to resonate with some of the volunteers who are reading this, and some are not, but putting them out there will make me more cognizant of these lessons and I think that is a good thing.

Me getting pumped about something
other than cheese (beet hummus)

#1: I have no will power when it comes to certain topics...namely cheese. This may sound like a joke but as I approach the 50lbs loss mark (17lbs to go!) I realize that this is in part because I am a lazy bastard. I eat raw foods for lunch every day not to make a statement, or because it makes me feel like a healthier and wiser consumer, but because I am too lazy to make my own lunch, and in my world there are no instant food options (fast food, processed packaged food, microwave meals... microwaves.) My biggest “win” has been weaning myself from a heavy reliance on carbohydrates, something that I tried to do multiple times while at home but was never able to fully achieve. Want to know how I finally did this? I stopped buying carbs. I eat a pasta or rice based dinner EVERY NIGHT, but that is the only meal in which carbs are present. If I had snack bars in my house, you can be damn sure I would be eating them, so instead of bringing them in and teaching myself a lesson on moderation, I skip the whole deal altogether by just not having them around.

My “lazy” person diet involves me having to work out my flabby will power muscles for approximately 30mins twice a month while I am grocery shopping. This is not difficult, I don’t go shopping hungry, and I don’t go down the sweet aisle. I get to have one candy bar while I am shopping, and other than that the unhealthiest thing that comes home with me is the container of feta cheese that I buy for omelets, and salads. 

This method has very much pointed out to me how much energy I devoted to food while I was home. Eating it, thinking about eating it, thinking about not eating it, worrying about what would happen if I did or did not eat it; hours upon hours a day! Here, I don’t have to freak, if I get hungry enough I have to eat a vegetable or a fruit, or I have to actually prepare something, which my lazyness will often prevent to a certain extent. By the time I get my unmotivated self to cook something, I know I am actually hungry! The lazy diet methods work for me.

Is it a child scribbling on the wall?
NO, its my PC emotional graph!

#2: Not everyone is the same when it comes to things that tick or set them off. Peace Corps is a crazy emotional ride of crazyness, and though at some point you do learn to level out or deal with your emotions, the ups and downs continue to be there, and it makes you get real intimate with yourself real quick. I think
the majority of issues that happen between people who generally care about each other are based around communication. Here is a situation that would not bug me: a volunteer in another village is having a party. The invitations are going out through word of mouth and we get to the week before the party and I have just heard about the event. This situation doesn’t bug me, and in all likelihood I would call this person up, and ask if I could come and if there is anything I could bring. The reason for this is because I like to assume I was not intentionally excluded, this person probably has a lot going on and assumed that the word of mouth tree through the volunteer community would take care of the needed guest list. This situation would bug certain people I work with though, and I could unintentionally offend someone by not taking this into account.

Dan Savage talks a lot about “price of admission” when it comes to relationships; this concept, in a nutshell, is that you are going to have to go out of your way in certain areas in order to keep your relationships healthy, and that if your relationship with that person is worth it, it is something you will gladly pay. Up to this point in my life I have assumed that most people see the world in very similar terms to how I see it. Though this is partially true, and I do think there is more that joins us together than separates us, there are also some very major differences, and that is what makes the world a wonderful, unique place to live in. When you get to a certain point in your relationships with people, you start to become more intimately acquainted with these little quarks, and being able to negotiate those is what continues to move you forward. I need to start being more active in recognizing these bits in other people, clearly seeing my own, and coming to an equilibrium in order to more actively engage in the relationships around me.  

#3: Who I am, and who I want to be, are going to slowly come together in unexpected ways, and I need to make room for those discoveries as they appear. You know that trend on facebook about a year ago; the one where there would be a series of six pictures and they would all have captions like “How my mother sees me”, “How my siblings see me” and “How I really am”? Though these are hilarious, I think the reason behind their comedy is because they ring really true in some cases (like the Peace Corps one below.) If I had to do one for just myself I think it would sound something like this:

Who I want to be: nomadic, adventuresome type, who traipses around the world in order to meet new people and try and make their lives better. I want my facebook profile pictures to include yurts, and me learning traditional Brazilian dances, and smoking a pipe with the native peoples of New Guinea. I want to have stories that start off with lines like “I was cutting my way through a dense jungle rainforest...” I want to tell people about all the gross bugs I have eaten. What I want to be is the love child of Teddy Roosevelt and Mother Teresa.

Who I am right now: a peace corps volunteer (which means a lot of different things; see "Romanticizing Peace Corps") Someone who does not particularly enjoy living out of her backpack but can do so on the occasion, someone who loves meeting new people, but doesn’t not like to have to be “on” 24/7. I don’t like bugs, especially the big ones with scary appendages and though I love getting into the center of things, I sometimes need a little coaxing. I love and miss my American home, and the family that fills it, and going home at this point sounds almost as sweet as having another adventure lined up. 

For those of you still reading, congratulations! You get the prize of me coming home for Christmas again! J I land Dec 23^rd, and take off again Jan 3^rd!

Who I end up being: a person who can’t be pinned down to one thing or another. I want to be someone who values her sense of home and where she came from and uses it as strength to see new places. I want to be filled with stories, and I want to share them with everyone. I want to be able to unpack my backpack at the end of an adventure and have a stationary, solid place to contemplate it. I want to enjoy my favorite pub at home as much as I enjoy a new pub in the back alley of the Ukraine. Ultimately I want to be someone who never “ends” in evolving who she is and how she sees things. Having a place to stop and rest doesn’t mean you ever have to truly stop the life adventure. My home is not my weakness.

The man is riding a freaking moose
...who doesn't want to ride a moose?!?

A lot of this has come through thinking about going home again, and dealing with this weird sense that I have seemed to stumble into that involves me thinking that needing home is somehow weak. At some point I will unpack this a bit further, but I don’t want to dwell on it too much right now now.

#4:You can get an awful lot of education with just a sense of determination, a passion for knowledge and a few hours of internet access a week. Want to know about the Moringa tree? Ask me freaking anything within the realm of applicable uses and I could probably answer it. Would you like me to get into gender identity and politics and the differences between sex and gender? Awesome, I will talk your ear off! I know more about the different parts of old schooner ships than I ever thought I would because last year for National Novel Writing Month I decided to write 50,000 about lesbian pirate queens and I wanted to sound authentic.

Your education does not begin or end with school or university, I know this seems like an obvious one but to people straight out of undergrad it can be a little daunting. I have spent 17 out of 24 years of my life in some form of school or another and when I graduated I felt like I had lost what had become a constant presence in my life. What I had lost was a set of buildings and a specific set of mentors. What I gained was the ability to drive what I educate myself on, and find people around me that already know, or want to learn about the same things that I do.

#5 and this one ties everything together I like to think. You have to learn how to be happy and it’s not always going to make you happy. Things that make me happy that don’t make me happy (work with me on this one):

·        

      Working out

·         Budgeting my living allowance

·         Going to work on days when I don’t feel like leaving the house

·         Religious study

·         Cleaning

·         Practicing music (guitar, ukulele, harmonica, or voice)

·         Cooking an elaborate meal (love cooking, hate getting everything together and cleaning)

These activities are things that ultimately increase my happiness as an individual but are either a.) not fun to do or b.) are difficult to get myself to start/ do. The ease in which I can get myself to work on stuff like this is usually highly depended on my emotional state, and as made clear above that is something that fluctuates with the wind while in Peace Corps. I like to institute certain mental “hacks” when it comes to motivation on my part. 1.) Even if I haven’t started seeing the difference yet, if I am working out, I tend to be more comfortable with my body. An example of this was actually yesterday while hanging out with a few friends. We were at a house of a doctor who was out of town, who also happens to have a pool.

Normally, in order for me to get into any sort of body of water I have to have serious coverage of my thighs. I have been wearing board shorts into the water for the past decade or so, despite the fact that I don’t have the body proportions to make it look athletic, and I really want to wear girly swim suits. Anyway, I forgot my shorts, and the only way to get into the pool was going in, in my skivvies, which a few years ago wouldn’t have been an option, but now it was. My thoughts: screw it, I worked out this morning and also just happened to have shaved my legs, on top of the fact that I had on cute underwear...those two things never happen!!!!

Secondly, the biggest issue I have is often starting things, after which I tend to enjoy them, or at the very least continue until I am finished. I won’t stop a workout in the middle, so all I really need to do is get to the point where I have begun, and the rest will take care of itself. Pep talks will often do the trick when having to get the ball rolling when it comes to the physical things. Getting myself to practice singing is not at all difficult, I put on songs I like, and then just start singing, but it can be a bit more complicated when it comes to picking up my guitar. By combining these two activities, life gets easier. I practice my guitar with songs that I can sing to.  

Lazy diet works, unfortunately lazy happiness does not. I cannot be both lazy and happy, it is not how I’m programmed. Figuring out how I’m programmed is the bulk of what I have been learning here. What works for some, is not going to work for me every time.

At this point I think I am becoming a big unfocused so I’m going to leave it there. I have no doubt that there will be more posts about life lessons learned. Thanks for tuning in!

Claire

Green Sleeves..and Shirts...and Thumbs

Last time I attempted to grow something on my own it was the strawberries my mother helped me out with in our household garden. I was so proud of them (even though they were kind of little) and so sad when we got to the year we had to dig them up to let the soil rest. After that the only real plant I can think of was the one my roommate had in college. We called it the "Jesus Plant" because it would die and then we would water it and it would magically come back to life. Most of the time we used "watering" in the most liberal of terms, meaning we poured leftover cans of beer and diet pepsi into the pot, so I really have no idea how the thing made it through two years in the dorm and one in the apartment, but whatever. At this point you should have some idea of my limited gardening skills, so it will come just as much a surprise to you as it did to me, that I am looking at the next couple of months, and the only projects that seems to really be happening all involve gardening and plants (probably ones that won't be watered with pepsi.)

The moringa project is finally starting to take off with seeds in the ground at my place and the clinic! I am hoping to start the workshops soon, and then I am going to put together an easy way for people to continue running them once I am gone. In case you didn't know I have included this wonderful little diagram thingy to tell you all about how awesome this tree is! I have been trying to be very careful with making sure people don't refer to it as a "medicine" though, because I don't want people thinking this is a cure all (i.e. replacing their ARVs with it), and what the main goal would be is really to try and get people t include it in their daily diet. If I can figure it out we are going to have general workshops and then special workshops and health talks for pregnant mothers and people who are HIV+, since those groups have even more to gain. I think this will be a great substitute for those pregnant women who end up eating dirt because they have an iron deficiency.

Aside from the moringa project I have also decided to start my own garden as well as a garden at the library that could benefit not only their low income preschool but the one that functions at the creshe as well. A HUGE shout out to Downtown Home and Garden for sending me a bunch of seed packets!! I thought I was going to get enough to do my own little herb patch but it turns out they sent me so many that they are going to have a chance to be their own project. This will be wonderful because it will enable both of these preschool programs to supplement the students lunches with some vegetables, and save on money when they hold events that require food. I'm really looking forward to getting my hands dirty with these projects, and maybe this is even something I will want to bring home with me?

Everything should be starting off this week, and if not then next for sure. I'm looking forward to melon and corn and tomatoes and dill and eggplant all straight from my very own garden! My host brother is going to clear a plot of land next to the chicken coup which I can only image will actually make things grow even better since I will have a natural fertilizer being set down (though I have to figure out how to keep the actual chickens out since they are going to try and eat everything.) This is fitting into my larger plan to get in shape and stay healthy and use this time in Peace Corps to establish some god nutritional habits. Also my goal to save more money and travel and bit more :)

Can't wait for the adventure to start, and if anyone out there has some good gardening tips, let me know!

Hugs and smooches,
Claire

Gender Poem!

Part of some of my LGBT work here has been trying to connect the Bots community with an EXCELLENT project back in the states, called The Gender Book! Part of this involves signing up to be a Gender Scout, meaning I help do some street promotion for the project. Obviously, this is difficult to do any place but online while I am here. That being said, I have written a poem with a gender theme that I would like all of you to enjoy:

The African Princess

The swish of her skirt

The rouge of her lips

The dance of her hips

No realer a woman ever walked the dirt catwalk the way she struts

Proud, with head held high, and hair blowing in the breeze

Having fought for a pronoun title hard earned, one she never knew was hers by right

The African Princess apologizes to no one

Cargo short confines

A naked face

A stomping gait

Baggy pants and tshirt have never been more of a cage

Some accessories packed away while others having sprung from their rightful place

Their place packed away because they hide her true face

Into the political prison the African Princess goes, but not long will she stay

Scary Story Continued!

Alright, so this is coming a lot later than I thought it would, and it also isn't going to have pictures until a later date, but I figured I have kept you in suspense for long enough!!!

We left off with our heroes (Kalindi and I) being trapped in our tent by some unknown creature and very much being in need of the bathroom. It is at this point in the story that Kalindi hands me the wine bottle, which is the closest thing we have to a blunt bludgeoning instrument, and says "you live here, which means you have to go out first." I can't really argue with the logic of this, I do live here, and ultimately it would just seem plain rude to have a guest be eaten by some hungry beast first. So I took the wine bottle, put on my shoes, and crouched at the tent entrance. After hitting the tent wall, and making ridiculous loud barking like noises (I can only image what all of this must have looked like from an outside the tent perspective) I unzipped the tent an half jumped, half tripped out into the wilderness, ONLY TO FIND!!!

Nothing, I found absolutely nothing...

After doing a once around the tent, I let Kalindi know the coast was clear and that it was okay to come out and we both ran to the bathroom. I am guessing, based on the fact that the thing had fingers, that it was probably a monkey. But we will never know will we? Maybe it was a Tokolosi?

The rest of the trip continued on relatively as planned, and I have to say that Victoria Falls is no less beautiful the second time around. This time we opted for a slightly less adrenalin filled, half day canoe trip. There was a bit of a troublesome bull hippo at the start (our guide was awesome, and we knew it was time to high tail it out of there when he calmly started repeating "okay, there is a hippo, we need to get to the center of the river...right now. Quickly!") but the rest of the day went swimmingly and we got to see the beautiful upstream view of the Zambezi.

After Vic Falls we made our way, with a series of pretty decent hitches, over to Maun to stay with the Ferguson's a couple of days. Maun is awesome, and to be honest it was just great to hang out in a house setting with wonderful people, sharing the responsibilities of making and eating wonderful food, and just shooting the breeze. It was so wonderful in fact, that we staid an extra day!

At this point in time, it was off to Ramokgonami, for about a week of hanging out in my village. I would love to say that there were a whole lot of adventures had at this point, but Rams is pretty laid back. We hung out, we hiked around a bit, and I introduced Kalindi to all of the wonderful people that make up my daily life here in Botswana. Sharing my house with people I love is a major point of awesomeness for me. I may not be the best house cleaner in the whole world but I like to think that I am a pretty gracious host. Showing off my home to Alex and Kalindi and Dana and anyone else that makes it out my side is a pleasure and I wish I had the opportunity to do it more often. Its times like that when I wish I lived in a major hub, but maybe if it happened all the time it wouldn't be as fun?

Kalindi leaving was horrible, she is going to be the last person from home to visit until my parents come in February, and though I tried to keep it together at the airport, it was incredibly difficult. Maybe someday I will post a little more about what her trip meant to me, but for now we will keep it at that.

Youth Empowerment Camp: For realz this time!

After Kalindi left I had a few weeks to get back into the swing of things, and then it was off to youth camp! As regular readers of this blog know, I helped put on a youth empowerment conference a few months ago, but it was much smaller than intended because of funding issues. Well we got funding! This time around the camp was at the Gweta Lodge, and we had about 25 campers, and four PCVs helping out. 

We did a ton of awesome workshops on identity, community mobilization, leadership and self confidence. We had a fashion show, talent show, and a movie night for evening activities. Everyone had an awesome time and I couldn't have been happier with how things shook out. I am hoping we can pull things together to do at least one more before the end of my service, and I plan to shoot even higher that time around. 

Mural Painting Part II

So the mural at this point consisted of a clean and primed wall, and two slightly agitated volunteers, which isn't exactly the end product we were looking for. So Dana came back up and we decided to finish her up! Chad (you remember him, the Beerlmpics champion?) also decided to come down and lend a hand, and I couldn't have been more thankful for it. 

Man did we kick some serious booty :)

We painted everyday for pretty much a week, with help coming in from random community member that were walking by, along with some of the primary and preschool kids and the creshe staff. It was hot, it was dry, and at times the paints were incredibly uncooperative, but in the end we persevered, and the fruits of our labor were oh so very sweet! (insert picture of mural here...later)

What is great about this whole project is we added to the beauty of the community by putting what people are most proud of into the mural itself. We did it with other community members and even though the creshe is off of the main road, the mural is so big and beautiful that people and cars passing by can see it from the road. As self centered as it may sound it is also nice to do projects like this because it is tangible proof that I was here, that I worked and made something that makes the community better. I can look at that mural and say "that wouldn't have happened without me" and there aren't may projects that I'm involved in that have that type of tangibility. But that is part of what we sign up for I guess. 

The mural finished up just in time for us to attend the community cultural day at the library, and even though the giant meal that Dana and I got in on wasn't for our mural specifically we decided to pretend that it was. We filled or bellies, chatted it up with community members, and then found Dana a lift back into town. I went home incredibly satisfied and only slightly exhausted. It was an amazing way to wrap up three months of crazyness. That whole circle of life, if you know what I mean.

New Projects in the Works

So there are a few new things that might be happening in the next couple of months, and I feel like if I write them up here, the universe will keep more more accountable for them. 

-SOP project for the clinic: I want to write a document that goes through different "stations" at the clinic, step by step, and lets the user know how much time it should take to complete each task. I think this will help for training new staff that come in when there is turn over. 

-Moringa: I actually started this one yesterday by planting a few of these on my compound, but I really want to start spreading the word about this amazing tree to the whole community. My hope is to get my hands on more seeds and then to give workshops on harvesting and uses a few times a month at the library/ clinic until most people know what they are doing. 

-STEPS Movie Nights: STEPS is a program that creates awesome movies, many of which are in the local languages, about certain health and social issues. The point is to watch a movie and then facilitate a discussion afterwards. I got the librarian to be on board with the idea of having a once a week movie night, sometimes STEPS and sometimes other entertaining media to keep people interested. I think this will not only be a great way to get community discussions going, but also a sneaky bit on getting more people to come to the library. 

-LeGeBiBo Documents: So I haven't been super open with my involvement with LEGABIBO here, but I want to post this because I am proud to be working with them and I don't want people to think any differently. LEGABIBO (Lesbians, Gays and Bisexuals of Botswana) is the only LGBT organization in Botswana which functions under the BONELA umbrella out of Gabs. I have been getting involved in a few of their projects and as they have begun to grow, I want to be able to make sure they have the structures needed to expand. That being said I am going to create some documents for them (grant requests, support group starter kits, resource lists) so they can more easily accommodate a growing movement. It may not be as exciting as the other projects, but I love it equally. 

-English Lessons: I have begun teaching English lessons at the primary school twice a week for the Standard 3s. These guys are a bit older than my preschoolers (8&9) and present a whole different bundle of challenges that I am looking forward to meeting. :)

There are a few more minor things in the works, but that is about it for now. I will post more, as more happen.

Plans for Life PPC (Post Peace Corps)

So these are a bit all over the place at this moment, but why not try and work them out of my head online for everyone to see?

At this point I have figured out that I am not going to stay an extra year...but that doesn't mean I won't apply for a 6 month extension. The current plan runs something like this: apply for 6month extension with LEGABIBO, probably get turned down because that job would involve a whole lot of politics (I 100% support Peace Corps stance on not getting involved with politics in any given country. It is what helps keep volunteers safe, and the organization legitimate), plan awesome COS trip to Southeast Asia, go on said trip, come home and readjust while looking for a job that can hold me down for about a year. After working said job for a year, find a more fulfilling job in a city and move there. See what happens after that. 

I would love to get involved with grassroots movements and I would love even more for that job to involve people, writing and activism. I am also painfully aware that I am not the only bleeding heart out there, and that these types of jobs have a lot of people competing for them, but that doesn't stop me from wanting it any less. I am not opposed to moving to Canada, and I think that everything works itself out in the end. 

At some point a few of you may be saying: "But Claire, when you left you said you were going to come back and go to graduate school!" and you would be right, I did say that....almost two years ago. 

I have figured out that I don't want to work in development all my life, and I can't thank peace corps enough for enlightening me on that one. I think activism is going to be more my thing, but there isn't exactly a graduate program for that. As it stands, the last thing I want to do is spend time and money on a Masters I won't use, so I am going to put it off for a while. Doesn't mean I won't come back, but if I do, I will be damn more certain of what I want than I am right now. 

In the case my 6 month extension is approved, I will move to Gabs and work for 6 months before doing the aforementioned plan only slightly later. As I said, I'm not thinking this is going to happen, but I am also not ruling it out. 

So I kind of have a plan...I guess? It just has a lot of holes...and unknown parts...and bits that aren't filled in. But what is the saying? 

"Men make plans and God laughs"

Will add some pictures later, hope this finds you all well :)

Claire