Tuesday, August 30, 2011

Food

The most common dish in my village (and across a lot of the country) is a large portion of pap [pr. pahp - a.k.a. bogobe, a.k.a. porridge] with chicken feet or chicken/beef entrails or morogo [any number of green leafy vegetables, but generally cabbage or spinach, which is closer to what we call swiss chard]. Pap is a thick porridge cake thing (to the point of holding its own shape) made from mealie meal [corn meal]. Most people eat this dish, or some close variant, for every meal. According to Mabatho, if she goes two days without pap she feels weak. That is because pap makes you strong. Or, rather, it rapidly metabolizes directly into sugar in your system. Diabetes is a huge problem here. Also, pap is absolutely delicious and is the reason I will be pushing 200lbs when I come back.

To eat pap, you grab a little in your hand, roll it into a ball-type-shape between the fingers and palm, and then use it or a spare finger or two to pick up meat or veg, or soak up some soup/gravy (usually the leftover oil/residue left from cooking the meat or veg). The chicken is usually boiled in a pot with water, oil, sautéed onions, and some soup mix. Vegetables are generally chopped into microscopic bits and boiled until the cows come home (about 4 p.m. judging by the herd near me), which, for you non-nutritionists out there, means that most of the nutrients are drained from the food before it reaches the table. Nutrition becomes a project for many PCVs.

I've started eating two meals a day, for the most part, generally waking up too late or being too lazy in the morning to make breakfast. When I do have time I make egg-in-a-hole (with fresh eggs from a neighbor), oatmeal with a banana, or just have an apple.

I tend to have lunch at the org because we have a feeding scheme for the kids and workers get fed for free. In fact, I just had lunch (pap with chicken feet and gravy – pictured below) with two co-workers between this sentence and the last. It was fantastic.






For dinner I usually make rice with vegetable stir-fry (onions and tomats sold in the village and green peppers from Tzaneen, with Indian spices from this wonderful little spice shop in Tzaneen which smells like I imagine heaven would), dal (an Indian lentil dish), pasta with homemade super chunky sauce with basil from the org garden, or, if I am feeling lazy, ramen.

My family is fascinated with my eating habits. My two homestay brothers/nephews what live at home, Dankie and Motlare, stand right next to the hotplate and squeal with excitement any time that I add spices. The younger one, Motlare, demands that he get a pinch of salt when I use it. Boy loves his sodium. I once gave my other brother, Silence, 10 years and off at boarding school, a small piece of partially cooked garlic. He seemed less interested in my cooking after that.

Dinner preparation takes about twice as long as it should because I have to take breaks to wrestle with my brothers or tell Motlare not to touch the hotplate because it is fisha [hot]. Everything I don't want him to touch (hotplate, knives, my phone, etc.) is fisha. Works wonders.


A list of interesting things I have eaten:
Mala ya kgogo [chicken entrails] – fairly delicious with a good gravy and hot pap.

Mala ya kgomo [cow entrails / stomach] - not so tasty, in my opinion. The smell alone is enough to to turn the stomach (mine, not the cow's). Unfortunately, when I ate them I had three women watching my every move. I am proud to say that I ate the whole steaming bowlful.

Chicken feet - we have them regularly at the drop-in center. They are delicious heavily salted and just off the grill. You just have to make sure to bit off the toenails before digging in.

Mopani worms [grilled caterpillar] - not bad if you stew them in some olive oil with onions and tomats, but you mostly find them grilled to a burnt crisp and then left to harden for goodness knows how long. Everyone here asks if I've had mopani worms, but I've never met anyone who likes them. I think they are kept around to haze the lekowa [foreigner - it is my default name until I tell people my real one, sometimes longer than that]. In reality, though, they breed prodigiously on Mopani trees during the rainy season and are a great source of protein for families that can't afford meat.

I'm still waiting for someone to make me some locusts or termites. That and boiled chicken head. Oh, how the vegetarian has fallen! I still don't prepare my own meat, though. Well except for that bacon for the delicious mixed green, hard-boiled egg, feta, avocado and bacon salad I made at my friend's apartment in Tzaneen. We splurge on rare occasion.

Saturday, August 27, 2011

A Boy and His Dog(s)

My dogs during training. Pinky was preggers for most of it, so she just waddled around. Twin, on the other hand, sat on my lap during language class. I still harbor plans to bring him to my permanent site, but my host family is a little reluctant to have a dog at the house. Working on it, though.


Twin






Pinky




The puppies.

Monday, August 22, 2011

Mabatho

Some photos of her and her house:


My room during PST. Yes, I had one of the nicest setups.


And yes, those are heart-shaped pillows.


The incredibly pink hallway.


The lady, herself.

Thursday, August 18, 2011

Host Family Appreciation Day

Near the end of PST we had a Host Family Appreciation day. Unfortunately, Mabatho had to work and couldn't attend, so some random lady acted as my homestay gogo when we handed out certificates. Of course, as this took place in South Africa, there was much food and dance.

Mabatho had had the wonderful idea of having matching outfits tailored for my language group - which met in her garage. She helped us pick out the fabric and we had a lady down the road sew them for us.

Some photos:


Sean's Mme and the language group: Me, Sean, Elizabeth, and Melissa


Merris checking out my rad chest hair.


Sam C., Lebo, Wanna, Merris.

Monday, August 15, 2011

Polokwane Shopping Day

Peace Corps provides a shopping day in a major town close to swearing-in to allow
volunteers to purchase things they might need for site. Unfortunately, through some bank error, none of our shiny new debit cards had been activated, so the vast
majority of us had little in the way of cash flow. Instead we just wandered around
a large mall in the half-stupor that only spending a few months in a small African
village and then being thrown into the gaping jaws of consumerism can beget. I did
have just the loveliest little burger with rocket, though. Not knowing what rocket
was, I ordered extra so I could identify it. Arugula? Really? I doubt Obama would have been made fun of for eating rocket salads.

Towards the end of the day it became apparent that no one had seen Linda, another
volunteer, for a while. Long and short, she had gotten food poisoning and had
sequestered herself in one of the mall's bathrooms. Well, at least she had running
water and flush toilets. So Elizabeth stayed with her while we went out front to
wait for the taxi. Which didn't come for a very long time. We drove Linda to the
hospital, just to be safe, and Elizabeth, the sweetheart, stayed with her.

Some photos:


Cate looking super classy.


Shae, Charlie, and Merris.


Chuckles, Merris, and Piper.


Cassandra.




America.



Thursday, August 11, 2011

The College

During PST we studied at Mokopane FET [Further Education and Training] College. FETs were developed mostly for kids who didn't pass matric (grade 12, wherein you have to pass certain end-of-the-year tests rather than just your classes) to learn practical (i.e. agriculture, tourism, business) skills. They're basically technical schools. We only stayed there a week before being sent to the villages but returned on the regular when all three villages got together for sessions.

Some photos:

My half of the dorm room.


Main entrance to the part of the college we didn't use.


Robin, Sean, Cathy, and Barb Shirk after our group meeting the Country Director, McGrath. She asked each of us why we joined PC. Barb's response? "Well, I figure I only have ten years left, so why the hell not?"


The LCFs leading some songs. From left to right: Sam (PCV), Mr. Mogobe (Language Coordinator), Joshua (Setswana), Kholeka (Zulu), Macy (Tsonga), Lebo (Sepedi), Kgabo (Sepedi), some teacher who left after two days, Mokgadi (Sepedi), behind her is Sanele (Zulu), Jan (Sepedi), Nkosi (Xhosa), some other lady who left after two days, and Veronica (PCV)


We were told to share some American songs with the LCFs. Cathy, Stephanie, Wanna, Charlie, and Ethan taught them that bastion of Americana, The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air.


There was graffiti all over the rooms. Some of it was apparently under copyright.


And some of it rather disconcerting.

Monday, August 8, 2011

Hlapa Diatla! (Wash your Hands!)

Part of our PST charge was to put on community health events in our respective villages. The Sekgakgapeng group decided to put together a hand washing hygiene fun day (I know, hygiene and fun in the same sentence) for OVCs (orphans and vulnerable children) at a local Red Cross drop-in center. Part of the motivation was seeing so many children in the village with ceaselessly cascading countenances and comprehending the collective congestion of constant common colds (alliterative antagonists...go away).

We made stations where the kids could learn about nutrition, how to wash their hands, and when to do it. We also had a song, led by Lebo, one of the Sepedi teachers, who was brilliant and has since gone on to a life of acting in South African soapies. I can't wait until the first episode premiers. We also had two traditional dance crews come to provide some entertainment. Now, education and dance are all well and good, and the kids learned lots and blah blah blah, but I figured we needed something a little more, well, freaking awesome.

I had seen painted signs around for jump castles, and upon inquiry my greatest dreams were at hand. For a mere R250 (~$35) we could have a bounce house for the entire day. After nail-biting weeks of inflatable euphoria uncertainty, we finally secured one for the event. We picked it up the morning of, and, after testing it, left it uninflated until after the introductions and song. Because we all know which kids would pick given the chance. When we did finally inflate it, we had a vitriolic semi-queue for hours straight. After a while, in the interests of the kids not destroying each other in the quest for bounce heaven, we had to impose a thirty-second limitation on the land of milk and compressed air.

And if the idea of planning and putting on an event where orphans, who have to go to a drop-in center each day just to get enough food, have a freaking blast on a jump castle doesn't warm the cockles of your heart to near volcanic temperatures, well, your cardiovascular unit needs to grow a deal more than three sizes. Which is to say, that afternoon will be a highlight for a good time to come.

Some photos:


Merris and Jan discussing the Sepedi portion of the event.


One of our posters telling kids to wash their hands after they eat.




Or cough.


We had kids join the High 5 Clean Hands Club by putting painted hand prints on the poster. Figured that would be more fun than signing Memorandum of Understanding detailing their promise to practice better hygiene in the future.


Cate preparing a bucket of bleach water for the hand washing demonstration.


Setting up.






The bounce house awesomeness!








Inside the Red Cross Drop-in Center for the song and demonstrations.


Lebo leading the song.


Traditional dance group.



And some videos:









Thursday, August 4, 2011

Hiking in Sekgakgapeng

I already wrote a bit about the hike my friend, Elizabeth, and I took during PST. A few weeks later we returned on the same route with several more and ended up crossing the mountain to the neighbouring village of Moshate, where we consumed cold drink (soda) and ate peanut butter sammiches. No snakes were encountered and there was great rejoicing.

Some photos:


Water containers overlooking the western edge of Sekgakgapeng.






Long tracks of pipe run up and down the mountains, bringing water from the few sources around to nearby villages.







Overlooking part of Sekgakgapeng or Moshate. I can't remember which.






All along the water tower. Left to right: Shae (sitting), Jan (Sepedi teacher), Richard, Ethan (bandana), Emily, Robin, Me, David.


Robin and David.


Bushwhacking.




Moshate.




Cate.


There wasn't a trail, so we just followed the water pipes down.