My counterpart, Mangena, with his daughter, who is indeed gnawing on a chicken foot and drinking fanta pineapple out of a bottle.
Thursday, June 28, 2012
Birthday
A while back my counterpart's nephew, Advice, had a birthday party. It was pretty bangin'.
My counterpart, Mangena, with his daughter, who is indeed gnawing on a chicken foot and drinking fanta pineapple out of a bottle.
My counterpart, Mangena, with his daughter, who is indeed gnawing on a chicken foot and drinking fanta pineapple out of a bottle.
Wednesday, March 21, 2012
Where I work
Some photos from Ramotshinyadi HIV/AIDS Youth Guide [RHAYG]:
View from the road leading down to the org. The new facility, which is almost complete, is just to the left. I'll put pictures of that up soon.
A hastily and shoddily made panorama.
The youths working on the organic garden planted orange trees around the org.
Where the cooks prepare food for staff and the drop-in center kids. Also a great place to dodge work.
The organic garden, which will be expanded several-fold once we the funding comes through.
Carers at the center to do their monthly reports.
Thabia and other staff.
Mangena giving out instructions before our village-wide domestic and child abuse survey for the Dept. of Social Development.
Phindile (OVC Coordinator) and Mangena (OVC Manager) in 'my office', which became the computer lab shortly after.
My desk. And yes, it is still covered in bubble wrap.
View from the road leading down to the org. The new facility, which is almost complete, is just to the left. I'll put pictures of that up soon.
A hastily and shoddily made panorama.
The youths working on the organic garden planted orange trees around the org.
Where the cooks prepare food for staff and the drop-in center kids. Also a great place to dodge work.
The organic garden, which will be expanded several-fold once we the funding comes through.
Carers at the center to do their monthly reports.
Thabia and other staff.
Mangena giving out instructions before our village-wide domestic and child abuse survey for the Dept. of Social Development.
Phindile (OVC Coordinator) and Mangena (OVC Manager) in 'my office', which became the computer lab shortly after.
My desk. And yes, it is still covered in bubble wrap.
Saturday, March 10, 2012
Odds and Ends
I couldn’t think of anything to write, so here’s some whatnot I found:
A video from Mangena's car from the early days at site. Just to give an idea of the landscape.
No picture with this one. Just the sound of a downpour in my room with a tin roof. I'd recommend installing a Marshall Half-Stack turning the volume to 11 for a proper idea of how loud it is.
Will, a PCV in my group, arm wrestling Nkosi, his Xhosa teacher, during our going away braai (BBQ) the day before we left for site.
A video from Mangena's car from the early days at site. Just to give an idea of the landscape.
No picture with this one. Just the sound of a downpour in my room with a tin roof. I'd recommend installing a Marshall Half-Stack turning the volume to 11 for a proper idea of how loud it is.
Will, a PCV in my group, arm wrestling Nkosi, his Xhosa teacher, during our going away braai (BBQ) the day before we left for site.
Wednesday, February 29, 2012
kids
Kids, like intestinal issues and sociocultural confusion, are a constant in Peace Corps. And sometimes they wear on you the same. But most of the time they are godsends, as they too barely speak the local language. Instead of formal verbal communication, an erratic series of grunts and hand motions tends to suffice. Which, given my poor Sotho skills, is generally faster than trying to piece sentences together word by word. Ke….nyaka….meetse vs. pointing at the water barrel, pantomiming drinking, and then staring at the child to see if anything been conveyed. Usually not, but I haven’t died of thirst yet.
Some photos:
Motlare with his toy for the day. Yeah, I put a stop to it before they figured out space monkey.
Motlare in his true form - reaching for anything that I am holding.
Dankie and a neighborhood boy.
I let Dankie use my camera for a bit. We are still working on the whole not covering the lens with your finger bit.
Local kids who come over a lot.
Mostly because there is a kids bike at the house, broken and chainless as it is.
Leah and her daughter, Ndezi, who was tiny when I arrived. She forgot who I was when I came back from holiday break and burst out crying when I went to say hi. She's remembered now and is back to her usual huge smiles and sort-of waves.
Some photos:
Motlare with his toy for the day. Yeah, I put a stop to it before they figured out space monkey.
Motlare in his true form - reaching for anything that I am holding.
Dankie and a neighborhood boy.
I let Dankie use my camera for a bit. We are still working on the whole not covering the lens with your finger bit.
Local kids who come over a lot.
Mostly because there is a kids bike at the house, broken and chainless as it is.
Leah and her daughter, Ndezi, who was tiny when I arrived. She forgot who I was when I came back from holiday break and burst out crying when I went to say hi. She's remembered now and is back to her usual huge smiles and sort-of waves.
Monday, February 20, 2012
things i like about my village
the fact that acceptable responses to 'how are you' is 'ke tsogile' [i've awoken] and 'ke lokile' [i was okay]. i still haven't received a satisfactory response as to why the latter is in the past tense, and no one else seems to find it as funny as i do.
the fact that my tin roof makes even the slightest drizzle sound like a downpour and every downpour like the apocalypse.
dust chicken from roadside stands, all slathered in peri peri [hot pepper] marinade.
how everyone in my village knows my name, and expect me to remember theirs after one meeting six months ago. after a while the awkwardness became funny.
the view on the taxi ride from my village to tzaneen, filled as it is with big, green farms on rolling hills.
sipping jasmine green tea in the courtyard while my brothers try their best to upset the mug and/or my book.
the fact that motlare, my 2 y/o brother, will repeat whatever i say the best he can. so far we have 'careful', 'okay', and 'bah ram ewe' down pat. we're still working on my name.
the fact that saleem, the proprietor of the local indian shop, still has no idea what to do with me and gives a look of genuine surprise every time i walk in.
the donkey carts [koloi ya tonki], which are just sawed-off backs of pick-up trucks hitched to two miserable looking beasts of burden that fly through the village with no concern for life or limb.
the local school bus, or twenty kids piled into the back of a pickup truck.
the zcc prayer meetings, which are conducted in song, and which carry through the evening in such an wonderful way.
the other small shop situated right next to the indian shop and which is only open when the indian shop closes (so, between 12 and 2). Go go gadget capitalism!
the fact that said shop just stared selling deep-fried hake for R4 (~50 cents).
the fact that it is mango season and there are three trees just outside my room. so good.
the fact that my tin roof makes even the slightest drizzle sound like a downpour and every downpour like the apocalypse.
dust chicken from roadside stands, all slathered in peri peri [hot pepper] marinade.
how everyone in my village knows my name, and expect me to remember theirs after one meeting six months ago. after a while the awkwardness became funny.
the view on the taxi ride from my village to tzaneen, filled as it is with big, green farms on rolling hills.
sipping jasmine green tea in the courtyard while my brothers try their best to upset the mug and/or my book.
the fact that motlare, my 2 y/o brother, will repeat whatever i say the best he can. so far we have 'careful', 'okay', and 'bah ram ewe' down pat. we're still working on my name.
the fact that saleem, the proprietor of the local indian shop, still has no idea what to do with me and gives a look of genuine surprise every time i walk in.
the donkey carts [koloi ya tonki], which are just sawed-off backs of pick-up trucks hitched to two miserable looking beasts of burden that fly through the village with no concern for life or limb.
the local school bus, or twenty kids piled into the back of a pickup truck.
the zcc prayer meetings, which are conducted in song, and which carry through the evening in such an wonderful way.
the other small shop situated right next to the indian shop and which is only open when the indian shop closes (so, between 12 and 2). Go go gadget capitalism!
the fact that said shop just stared selling deep-fried hake for R4 (~50 cents).
the fact that it is mango season and there are three trees just outside my room. so good.
Saturday, February 11, 2012
Soccer Tournament
I went with my friend, Mangena, to a soccer tournament at one of the local farms. The farm owners built a small field just outside the living compound on the farm. Someone offered the winner R500 (~$58) and then charged R5 at the gate. Apparently you can make bank doing that. Mangena was smart enough to bring folding chairs, so we set up near his friend Julia’s table, where she was selling some home cooked food. She gave us giant plates of pap, fried chicken, boiled cabbage, and beetroot. So good.
There were around 100 people there that day. The organizers had hooked up giant (as in, more than eight feet tall) speakers (as in, more than one giant speaker more than eight feet tall) right near our table and blasted (as in, eardrums are overrated anyways) local kwaito. People went around selling cigarettes, snacks, and booze. Judging from how little soccer was actually watched that day, I think the thing was just a pretense to have a dance party, but that seems to go for most things here in SA.
Some photos:
What, were you expecting grass?
The kid on the left wandered around all day selling snacks out of the basket on his bike. He also had some sweet shades.
The crowd, which was mostly made up of people who work at the farm and live on the compound.
Me and Julia.
Peace Corps: holding babies, saving lives.
Bush sunset at 30km/hr.
A video of the farm compound after the tournament. It is sideways at first because I didn't realize it was on the video setting. Professional to the last.
There were around 100 people there that day. The organizers had hooked up giant (as in, more than eight feet tall) speakers (as in, more than one giant speaker more than eight feet tall) right near our table and blasted (as in, eardrums are overrated anyways) local kwaito. People went around selling cigarettes, snacks, and booze. Judging from how little soccer was actually watched that day, I think the thing was just a pretense to have a dance party, but that seems to go for most things here in SA.
Some photos:
What, were you expecting grass?
The kid on the left wandered around all day selling snacks out of the basket on his bike. He also had some sweet shades.
The crowd, which was mostly made up of people who work at the farm and live on the compound.
Me and Julia.
Peace Corps: holding babies, saving lives.
Bush sunset at 30km/hr.
A video of the farm compound after the tournament. It is sideways at first because I didn't realize it was on the video setting. Professional to the last.
Wednesday, February 1, 2012
Tzaneen
Some pictures of Tzaneen, my shopping town (PC talk for the nearest town that has things for purchase beyond the minimal selection of the village). As I mentioned before, Tza is about 55+ km from my village and the trip via koombie (12-14 person van that serves as public transport here) takes from between 1-3 hours. The two hour difference is caused by having to wait for a taxi to pass on the main road (somewhere between one minute and 1.5 hours) and then wait for it to fill (same bag).
All in all, Tzaneen is a pretty amazing shopping town. There is a lot of money there due to the large farms nearby. According to a nearby PCV it has the largest collection of millionaires in South Africa outside of major cities. As a result there are many expensive stores outside of which I can be found, nosed pressed on the window in a Dickensian fashion. But it also means that we have access to a wide variety of goods and services, some of which is occasionally affordable on my rather petite stipend. Like cheese. And amazing Indian food.
Go here for some boring, impersonal, and, as it is a Wiki page, probably questionable facts on Tzaneen.
Some photos:
For a while during the spring Tzaneen was covered in these flowers.
Ethan at the pond/standing marsh near our friend's apartment.
Satvik, the backpackers just outside Tzaneen we stayed at over Halloween weekend.
All in all, Tzaneen is a pretty amazing shopping town. There is a lot of money there due to the large farms nearby. According to a nearby PCV it has the largest collection of millionaires in South Africa outside of major cities. As a result there are many expensive stores outside of which I can be found, nosed pressed on the window in a Dickensian fashion. But it also means that we have access to a wide variety of goods and services, some of which is occasionally affordable on my rather petite stipend. Like cheese. And amazing Indian food.
Go here for some boring, impersonal, and, as it is a Wiki page, probably questionable facts on Tzaneen.
Some photos:
For a while during the spring Tzaneen was covered in these flowers.
Ethan at the pond/standing marsh near our friend's apartment.
Satvik, the backpackers just outside Tzaneen we stayed at over Halloween weekend.
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