And The Band Played On...

So, further updates--we spent the first eight weeks of our stay in Pre-Service Training (PST), spending long days having sessions on cultural integration, safety and security, working with NGOs (non-governmental organizations), health, and (my favorite, of course) HIV/AIDS training. This last aspect is the crux of our work here, as we are part of the Community HIV/AIDS Outreach Program (CHOP) sector; other PC volunteers are working in education, community development, etc. Along with this, we also had several hours of language classes every day--I was lucky enough to have a really awesome language group with a great teacher, Sandile. Not all the other groups played as nicely as we did. The majority of us (including my language group) were learning isiZulu as most of us were to be located in the province of KwaZulu-Natal, where this is the most widely spoken language. However, SA has 11 official languages, and depending on where they were to be located, some of the other groups were learning isiNdebele, SiSwati, or XiTsonga.

Other exciting events during training included getting about 83 injections each (yes, medical personnel make the worst patients, although I tried to be brave), going on several trips to the Apartheid Museum, the Voortrekker Monument, visiting several NGOs, and putting on a 5K Fun Run for the two local villages we were staying in. I hate to say it, but of everything during training, this was not my cup of tea. To be told one week in advance that you should put on a run for an estimated 1000 people (mostly kids whose language you don't speak), and organize the run, prizes, donation, drinks, snacks, etc, etc, with no independent money, transportation, or means of communication (at this point we didn't have cell phones) was just ridiculous. It was neither fun, nor did I run--instead, I helped with the first aid tent. Anyway, it was for a good cause, however; we were trying to raise money for a local HBC (home-based care) organization that had not had funding since April of last year, and were washing and reusing old bread bags as gloves in order to give injections. Although we only collected a modest amount of money in the long run, one of the people involved with the organization was heard to comment that we'd helped teach them how to raise money for themselves, which was the best outcome we could have hoped for.

One of the great things about our training experience was getting to work with and learn from our LCFs (language and cultural facilitators). This was a group of eight host-country nationals who not only patiently taught us their languages, but served as sort of cultural ambassadors as well. They were a fantastic resource, as often within a new culture, it can feel disrepectful to always be questioning new experiences. This feeling was accentuated by the fact that in SA culture, it generally is not done to question everything; if an elder or someone in a higher societal position than you tells you something, you generally take it at face value and don't ask why. But our LCFs were well-prepared to answer to a bunch of inquisitive, pushy Americans who want to know the how and why of everything. Here I have to give props again to my group's LCF, Sandile. He's a great guy who seems to see beyond the spoon-fed BS that can become the brain's default mode if one isn't aware of it. Congrats to him on finishing law school soon, finishing his novel, and putting up with us for eight weeks. Shout-outs to all the other LCFs as well--if you get to see this, we had a great time and appreciate all you did (sorting groceries and all!). In the pic are our LCFs, from L to R: Senele, Joshua, Sandile, Thokozani, Bongiwe, Ntombi, Ntokozo, and Mama Simangele.

One of the other quick perks of training--we had it in a gorgeous location, at the SS Skhosana Nature Reserve, where we were surrounded by vervet monkeys literally stealing our lunches every day. Too cute!

The rest of the time in the villages was spent geting to know our host families, attending cultural events, learning to catch a khumbi (mini-van taxi; aka, Death Takes a Holiday, and He Rides In A Khumbi), as well as how to ride in them (squeeze in as many people and extraneous goods as possible), pay for them (pass your money up front from the back through approx. 20 people; surprisingly, it usually gets to the driver, who then counts the change for all ~20 people while speeding around potholes and random children in the road), and use hand signals from the road to indicate which general direction you want to go (woops! Ended up in Darfur!). We also spent a good deal of time walking through the village and enjoying the beautiful scenery of Mpumalanga Province, as well as visiting a small river that was absolutely gorgeous (the locals don't visit it much; more on this in a later post). Anyway, enjoy the pics, and I will post again soon. Love you and miss you all! Salani kahle! Stay well!

P.S. I had several other pics to upload here, but just getting this up took about 8 hrs over three days, then no more would load. So, I'll post others as I can. Of these, the first is me with my friend Claire in our village. The others are me with Sandile, the LCFs, and a pic of the river.