Happens to All of Us

I lived in Africa for over two years, but it wasn't until my final days that I felt like I was actually living the authentic African experience. What does that really even mean? Despite everything I had  experienced, I still had my expectations. If you've read my blog, you know I've killed a chicken, I bathed in a bucket,  went to traditional weddings and other cultural events, I've even met people from the royal family. I sang, danced, and dressed like the locals. I walked down the same dirt roads  and waited for the same public transport that the majority of the country takes. I've slept in thatched roof huts, and ate dinner with my hands, sitting on the ground by candle light. I've seen poverty and been around the plagues of death that have stricken this continent. So why is it that I felt like I hadn't seen Africa? I'll tell you why, it's because I hadn't seen lions. Yes, the answer is as easy as that.

My two years, I purposely didn't think of this as like a vacation or a mission. I came simply to live. I didn't have my camera out every second taking pictures,  I didn't buy a single postcard and I didn't try to analyze everything I encountered. I just let things be and rolled with the punches. My approach was how I thought best to handle my life at the time; other PCVs did so differently, and that is perfectly ok. But because I acted the way I did, things that I encountered, that of course were different, didn't freak me out or surprise me. As a result, I felt more comfortable at my site. I rarely left, didn't take vacation, didn't spend my weekends in the capital, and didn't have a whole lot of expats as friends. My life was in Swaziland, and so to think of the African experience where I lived, is just as confusing as asking you how your experience was when you lived in "___(enter your old address)__". You'd say it's cool or whatever other emotions you had attached to the place, but chances are you wouldn't say that it was AMAZING or UNBELIEVABLE!! Basically the way I feel about living in Africa is how I think people who live in NYC or LA feel. If you meet a New Yorker, yes they probably love living there, but it's not all hype for them, it's just life. I hope this is making sense.

So back to my original statement about not feeling like I had the African experience until my final days. I felt like it was important to share that even the most culturally aware people can still fall victim to stereotypes and tourist traps. The next blog post will be all about my two week farewell vacation through Africa, but I wanted to first give you readers just a glimpse of my thought process as I was transitioning from one phase of life to the next.

Embarrassing Moments

    When I was sitting in the airport, catching up on my magazines, I came across the articles about people confessing their most embarrassing moments. It made me think about all the times I had done something ridiculous over the two years. So without any hesitation, it's confession time. You're welcome.

Language
It's no secret that there are always some language barriers when you try to communicate with someone who doesn't share the same first language as you. I was fortunate to be in an area that spoke fairly good English, but that did not exclude me from making a fool of myself when it came to communicating. During my first two months of PST, we learned the local language, Siswati. In one of the lessons, we were learning body  parts. I was learning the word for "butt", which is "sibunu" (I think I spelt that right). However, when I went to repeat the word to my language instructor, I said another body part, which happened to be 100 times more inappropriate than the intended word. Needless to say I made him blush and he called me a "naught naughty girl". Opps!

Then there was the time when I told my students to "get out a sheet of paper". I didn't understand why my students were laughing. Since none of them had followed my directions, I said it again, "take out a sheet of paper". The laughter kept rolling in. I eventually realized that to them, my accent made it sound like I was saying, " a SHIT of paper"; so that whole time they thought I was cursing.

This next incident wasn't really a language barrier, it was just me being stupid. When I was in the capital city I saw a girl who looked familiar. I shouted her name but she didn't respond. I knew this girl though! So I shouted her name again, nothing. I finally went up to her and said hi. She equally recognized me and we embraced in a hug. I then began to make small talk with her and asked her about her family whom I knew were visiting America. She looked like she didn't hear what I was saying, so I continued to talk about her and her family. She then began to speak like she knew what I was talking about. A few moments later we boarded our khumbi that would take us to my village where we are both from. But when I saw her get off the bus 20 minutes before our village, I realized I had made a huge mistake! She wasn't the girl I thought I knew after all! I did know this girl, but I only knew her as my friend's sister who I met briefly once. I was confusing her with another girl who I knew because she went to my church every time she was in town. Now it all made sense.  She wasn't deaf, she just didn't respond when I called her name because I wasn't calling her name! And she didn't understand why I kept saying her family was in America, because they weren't. She was so sweet though to oblige me in my idiocy. Every time I think of this incident, I feel so stupid. God bless her.

Clumsiness
When someone falls down, I can't help but laugh. I am no exception to my rule. When I fall down, run in to walls, or get smacked in the face, I'm the first one to throw my head back. For instance, there was the time when I was walking down the main road in my community. That route is host to the social center where everyone goes to drink. Basically it is the most populated area where you go to see and be seen.  Anyways, as I was walking past, this big truck comes down the road and it does not give way to pedestrians. I thought for sure that this truck would move, but its only a few yards away and headed straight for me. I end up having to leap out of the way. As I make my landing, I trip on my heel and cut my toe on wire. Blood everywhere. Then there was the time I was walking down the same road and coincidentally a car is driving down, not paying attention, and it almost hits me. Again I have to practically dive out of the way. This time I completely fall and scrape my knee. Blood everywhere.

Wardrobe Malfunction
Nothing is worse than standing in front of a class with your fly unzipped, oh wait there is. I taught an entire class with one of my buttons unbuttoned and my bra showing. Or how about the time when I was in the Indian Ocean swimming and my bathing suite kept coming off because the waves were too rough. Yes, boobs out, people everywhere. Then there was the time when I was at the annual Reed Dance, were nearly the entire nation comes to celebrate. I was dressed in traditional wear, so of course everyone wants to get a picture with me. Well the people got more than the bargained for when my lihiya (skirt) fell off as I was posing for a picture, and I am standing there in front of everyone in my underwear. Wish I could make this stuff up.

Sometimes it's not about being exposed as it is how you dress. For example, in the rainy season, the roads turn to mud. It is horrible. So what do you do? Wear rain boots. So as I walk around in my rain boots, feeling cute; people are laughing at me. For a while I didn't understand, but then someone explained it to me. The rain boots I was wearing were the type of boots the "cane cutters" wear. Cane Cutters are kind of like the lowest position who work in the fields all day and cut sugar cane.  So people in my community thought it was too funny when they saw a white girl wearing those same boots.

Speaking of mud and people laughing at me, there was the time when I had "mud butt". I'm not talking about the mud butt people joke about when they are on the toilet, that is gross. I am talking about the time when I was walking down the muddy road in my flip flops, because at the time I hadn't bought the rain boots yet. As I was walking, the back of my flip flop was flicking mud up on to my orange pants! The color contrast was horrible and noticeable. It took over 15 minutes for someone to actually tell me I had mud on my butt.
Thank God, I'm back in America and I don't have to worry about such things anymore.

"I'll Show You What I'm Worth"

I am so proud of my girls. I mean really! If there is one thing that is an accurate display of the emotional struggle and growth that I went through, it would be in the establishment of the Girl's Empowerment Club. When I first came to SD, I really thought that this was going to be a fun project where all the girls would get along and have a good time; I guess I have my Girl Scout days to blame for that. I was quickly humbled when I found out that just because I'm the new kid on the block with all the cool toys, didn't make me popular with a lot of people. I was reduced to being mocked and made fun of by staff and students. I've said this before, and I'll say this again... never in my life had I been treated so badly*. The reason I stayed was because I didn't take it personally; these people still didn't know me. That's what happens when people are afraid of something that is different or challenges their beliefs-- they try and kill it. Don't believe me, just look at the news or open a history book. The same kind of thing happens everyday in America and around the world. So this challenge of getting the girl's and the community for that matter to be accepting of someone different from them is the reason why I stayed, but trust me, it definitely wasn't easy.
If you've followed my blog, you've seen me write on several events that the girls did over the two years. We had fundraisers, meetings, drama and performances, contests, a back to school bash, and now we had our final hiking trip. Most, if not all of these activities had gone unnoticed by our supporters (SWAGAA). The leadership in that organization had been unstable since the time I had been there, and as I said the coordinating staff at my school had been out to get me since day one, so they were no help in passing on messages to and from SWAGAA. Nevertheless, my girls persisted and continue to be the strong examples that their community needed.
This year, we held our weekly meetings; the only difference was that instead of doing the same mundane lessons that the girls have heard over and over, I decided to switch it up a bit. In our meetings, the girls would hear a popular song about empowerment, whether it be Katy Perry, Lady Gaga, or Beyonce. Then the girls would have an open discussion about what that meant to them. One song that really stuck with them, was Katy Perry's Firework. The lyrics go:
    " 'Cause, baby, you're a firework. Come on, show 'em what you're worth. Make 'em go, "Aah, aah, aah", As you shoot across the sky-y-y. Baby, you're a firework. Come on, let your colours burst. Make 'em go, "Aah, aah, aah". You're gonna leave 'em all in awe, awe, awe"
The girls were so inspired by this song because a lot of times their society doubts females and reduces them to second classes citizens. To them a woman is only as good as she can cook and clean. But these girls have realized that they are so much more than that. They want the world to see just how much they are worth, and what their value is; and their value is something much high than money can buy.
In addition to the song in the meetings, I  had the girls lead the sessions this time. What better way to be a leader, than to lead? Some of their lessons topics included: "Girl-talk" where they shared personal thoughts and feelings, "Friendship", and "How to Be Healthy". I was so relieved that I didn't have to do the lessons, they covered the information their selves! Which goes to show that these kids are smart, you just ave to give them a chance.
So on to our final meeting, er I mean final activity. On the last day of the school term, 19 girls went to the Mlawula Nature Reserve which is just minutes away from the school. I was shocked to find out that they had never been! Anyways, we all went on a nice nature hike to the top of the Lubombo mountains where the girls could see the sugar cane fields that surround our tiny village. After we did our hike, we came back to the camp site for a braai (cook out), and then we played some games. The only leaders there were myself and our mentor, so I was surprised when SWAGAA actually came in their SUV carrying a sound system! They girls were so excited to finally get some recognition and attention. For so long, they have been told that they need to be more active and they other clubs did more stuff. In my mind, I'm just thinking, "if these people only knew...". Well now they know! As a result, SWAGAA announced that the club will officially be launched and will be getting more funding. They will also be using our club for different fundraising and awareness events around the country.  Look at MY girls! Yes, I am saying MY GIRLS, because they have been so close to my heart since day one. Even before they knew it and accepted it, I loved these little beauties. And now look at them, they have a strong club, they have become leaders, and they are now trying to get others to join.
They have definitely started a spark in their school and I believe they are going to carry it with them as the mature and make it in this world.

* Now that I have left my community and Swaziland, I feel a bit more comfortable about telling my readers about the "real deal". I love my community and my school, but I HATED the treatment I got from a good number of people who claim to be "holier than thou".  I believe being transparent is the best way to learn and communicate, so here you go. Ncesi.

When Shakira Made Me Cry

I had my final swan song, and it included a life size cardboard bus, mini Michael Jackson wannabes, and Chinese fans. Confusing I know, but stay with me. I am talking about the Africa Umoja Concert at the school where I teach dance. "Umoja" means spirit of togetherness, and that's exactly what the concert was about! Over a period of 4 months, I taught the kids how to do zumba, jazz, lyrical, hip-hop, how to dance with props and acting. All of this was within the influence of dance throughout African history. The director of the show, and also my favorite counterpart because she gets me, based the concert of the popular African show titled by the same name as ours, Africa Umoja. The show takes you through African culture over the years by song and dance. Starting with the traditional dances, gospel songs, gumboot dancing, jive dancing that was found in the clubs in Metropolitan areas, and so on.

Our concert consisted of over 13 songs, combined with the senior school. I was in charge of choreographing the junior school. Since I don't have the capability to post a video of the hour long concert, I'll have to just tell you the play list. 

           1. Waka Waka- the dance group of the school, did a routine to the popular song by Shakira that was the theme song of the World Cup in 2010. FIFA World Cup South Africa may have been over four years ago, but the pride the continent felt for hosting such a big events is still as big as ever. This song, Waka Waka was the opening song of the concert. The girls were dressed in bright neon colors with sequins belt and wrist bands that moved when they shook their bodies. This song now has a special meaning to me, as I cried in the middle of the airport when I heard it weeks after the show.

          2. Flag Parade- I'm not sure who the composer of this instrumental song was, but it was such a cool jazzy number where we did a lot of things. In this song, we had 19 flags of Africa represented on big glittery cardboard, we had 7 drummers, 8 ribbon girls, and 5 dancers. We filled the auditorium with this dance, coming in from all 4 wings, the 3 aisles in the back, and movement throughout the stage. The highlight was when the Swazi flag came down the center of the aisle and everyone cheered!

          3. Africa Sunrise- This was such a powerful song by Helmut Lotti. It talks about the beauty of Africa. I had 20 grade 2 girls come on in a weaving pattern on stage, carrying giant 1 meter fans. At certain cues in the song, the girls opened the fans. Because the fans were so big and the musical cues where drastic, the movement, while not difficult, was very dramatic. In the midst of the moving fans, was "mother Africa", she came on the stage and danced here lyrical dance with ribbons across the stage. Such a beautiful piece

           4. Jika- This is a very popular song by South African group Mi Casa. I would consider this song the crowd favorite of the concert. Not because the song, ok well maybe because of the song, but mostly because of the grade two boys who came on stage in a suit and tie with gold hats in tow. These little boys can move! I'm talking like "make you blush" kind of moves! 

            5. In the Jungle- this of course is the classic expected that song we wish to see performed by any little tyke. For the grade 1 girls, we had them dressed up a birds who were the main dancers. The cheeky little boys were the lions, and the rest were village people who walked on stage and conveniently got scared by a lion. Yes it was cliche, but its so cute when you see a six year old dressing in a big lion mane, carrying a stuffed animal lion on stage.

            6. Penny whistle-  this song by Mango Groove was the back drop to our "taxi scene". Our set director constructed a life size bus that the kids pushed on stage. We were acting out the comical and chaotic scene that is of the infamous  bus ranks of Africa. We had bus conductors shouting, people dancing through the rank, girls on their cellphone, businessmen, mothers with babies on their backs, someone selling fruit, boys playing with toys, and of course one little white girl with a backpack on walking through confused with a map. There was a lot of activity going on, but it pulled off well!

            

Those were the big numbers that I choreographed, there rest were all choir songs, or just ones were the kids walked on and off stage. Overall though I am so happy with how the concert went. It truly was the highlight of my service. 

Have a Mandela Kind of Mindset

My final month of work couldn't have been more stressful, yet more rewarding if I had wanted it to be. I saw a lot of things come into fruition, and I also saw a lot of things come to pass. Some relationships ended on a bad note, others were mended, and most were strengthened. Expectations where met, and disappointments were minimal. Overall I am 100% satisfied how things ended and if given another chance, I would do the whole thing over in a heartbeat. The PC saying is true, it is " the toughest job you'll ever love". 

 The weeks counting up to my departure, I was pressed with making sure I got all my life skill lessons taught. My class had to work at a fast pace which was the opposite of what they were doing with all their other classes. Instead of taking a break during their exam weeks, we kept working and made up classes throughout the term. I wanted to do more activities with them, but realized that it would just be too much. Thankfully, the English teacher saw that we were working on job skills and writing resumes. I wanted to take the classes into the computer lab to type them out, but time did not permit us with that luxury. So instead of using the limited amount of classes I had left, the English teacher is going to continue with the writing if the resumes in her class.... At least that is the plan. I am proud of my Grade 11 class through. Sure there could have been a lot of improvements with that class, but they have been dealt a bad hand; however they are handling it as best they can without much help. For example, my class didn't receive books, so everyday I had to print out pages of their book from my one copy (which yes I know is also a privilege that my school even has a copier). The students weren't given folders or anything else to secure their papers. Knowing that these students are still young, I didn't expect them to keep perfectly a years worth of information in their bags, but to my delight maybe only one or two ever lost their stuff. We also crammed  three terms of curriculum in two. Now typically I normally bash teachers who just rush through the syllabus to get it done, because I feel the students don't really learn the information. This was not the case for my kids. The national standards say that students only need a 60 to pass and be on track, well my students had a class average of 89% with no one below a 60! There were only two lessons that I did not get to with the students, but once I met the new PCV replacing me I knew that she would be a perfect fit to teach those last sessions and it would be a good way for her to warm up with the students. Wishing the best for her! 

I was a little bit nervous about leaving because I thought everything I did might just fall (and it still might, only time will tell), but again I am so thankful that my site was replaced by a new PCV. The library I started at the primary school was still far from being finished and the new PCV was willing to continue it when I left. In the beginning of this blog I said I had some stressful and disappointing times, well this was one if them. If there was one thing I could change about my service, it would have been to have spent more time at the primary school. The library project was probably the biggest thing that needed to be done, but for many reasons it was a hassle to get started. My final months, literally down to my final days, I was held up in the library for hours a day trying to get it done. Personal feelings aside, I didn't want to complete it for my own glory; never once was this one of those " look what I did" situations. My sole purpose for being so stubborn and wanting to get this library done was because this is the one thing that the kids wanted. Everyday the kids would come up to me and ask me if they can have library class, or if they could check out a book. I so much wanted them to tell them yes! If anything, the biggest lesson I've learned here, development wise, is how important literacy is. The kids at the primary school, eventually will be kids at my high school. If we could improve their literacy when they are in grades 3, imagine how well they will test in Form 3!  Nelson Mandela said that "education is the most important factor of sustainable development",oh how I wish this concept would resonate! My mind will always be on those kids and that library; I pray for the new PCV as she is walking into this big challenge. I also pray for the teachers  that they catch on, and for the students that they hang on.

So Much to Do, Not Enough Time

I am left with 5 days in Swaziland, somebody pinch me! I can't believe it is time to go. There is still so much I have to do. My biggest obstacle I am left with is writing my Description of Service (DOS). This is hard, because I haven't even had time to think! There has also been so much that has happened in the past month that I haven't had time to blog about.

So I just wanted to send out a hey there to all my readers. I will be absent the next couple weeks, but I promise to fill you all in on what's been happening. I'll be blogging about my last days in SD probably when I am sitting in the comfort of my own bed or a Starbucks. But before I get there, I am going to spend 2.5 weeks traveling through Namibia, Botswana, Zambia, and Zimbabwe. Until then...

...Sala Kahle.

Feelings

Today as Term 2 closed, I bid farewell to the kids at my three schools. I really can't believe that this is it, my job as a life skills/ dance teacher are over in Africa. It only feels like just yesterday that I was standing before a sea of unfamiliar faces. Has it really been two years? It's hard to imagine that so much has happened between then and now. I've learned so much about myself and what I am capable of; however, it's my emotional strength that has been tested the most. Being here, I have had my highest highs and my lowest lows. There were days when I honestly questioned why I was here.Other days I thought, "Man, I can't leave. There is so much to do!" Sometimes I was surround by so much love and support, other times I literally felt like everyone was out to get me. There were those moments where things just clicked and projects succeeded, on the other hand I had those moments where I just wanted to bang my head against the wall. As much as I wanted to give, give, give, I equally wanted to be selfish. I feel sorry for my mom, as she is probably confused of what to tell people when they ask her how I am doing. Should she say that I love it here, or that I
am miserable? Both would be an accurate answer. As I am saying my goodbyes, I am overwhelmed with emotions. I am heartbroken to say goodbye to some wonderful people. But I am also heartbroken, because I still feel alone. People ask if I am ready to come home, and
without hesitation, I say "Heck yea!", yet I am just as sad to be parting ways. I don't know if I'll ever come back here, and that hurts me to pieces, knowing I may never see people who I consider family ever again.So how do I do I deal with all of these feelings? First I cry.... then I blog.

Expert in Love

Have you ever heard a song, listened to a lecture, or sat through a sermon and thought ‘Wow! This is for me.’? Well that’s what happened to me today at church. God gave the right words to my pastor today that just spoke to me.

Over the past month, I have been really trying to hold my tongue. I thought that when people found out I was leaving, that they would be sympathetic and sad to see me go. Guess what! I’m not as hot as I thought I was. The same people, who rejected me, still continue to do so, and will be doing it as I taxi out of Swaziland. I guess I shouldn’t have expected them to actually be sad, but a simple “thank you for all you’re hard work” would certainly have alleviated my anguished feelings I associate with them. Instead I am left with the impression that they never liked me, and when they weren’t talking about me behind my back (or in front of me in Siswati), they only acknowledged me when they wanted something.  To be perfectly honest, I HATE that. I sincerely HATE that I am left with that impression. My whole two years here, I tried to get this certain group of people to warm up to me, I wanted to work with them and not against them. And I am still for the life of me trying to figure out why they despise me, though I have an idea which I believe is really too petty for me to even type. The stress that I had while being here wasn’t caused by the lack of amenities I had been accustomed to in the states, it was from the group of people who on a daily basis stole my joy.

I admit, while they may have been the cause, I have only myself to blame for becoming distressed. I was letting the enemy claim defeat. I was ready to walk into my Head Teacher’s office on Wednesday and tell him that I quit and will finish my last month of service at my other school. But then, today I was encouraged by Paul. Paul of Tarsus, you know that guy who wrote half of the New Testament 2000 years ago. In church, we read Philippians 1, and I swear to you— my ears were burning!

In Philippians 1, Paul is chained up and under house arrest. He couldn’t even lie down without hearing the shackles move, but he still prayed with joy (v.4)! Then he goes on to say in v.6 that God is STILL doing a great work in us. Paul viewed his adversity with joy, and saw it as a way to promote the gospel. Me, I see it as stopping point and a time to be bitter and complain. If I truly am a Christian like I claim to be, I need to be thankful for what God has accomplished and be confident in God’s ability to bring His work to completion. I need to look at my adversity and rejoice that God has brought me to that circumstance, and rejoice that He will bring me through it! And when I think about v.6 and how it says He will continue a good work in us until the day of completion on the day of our Lord; I also let that resonate, that He will continue to help me do good work until my PC service is complete in 4 weeks.  God has given me the strength to do this for 2 years… and He is going to remain doing it all the way up to the last minute. So if God clearly says He is not giving up on us, than I shouldn’t give up on myself.

I thought that message right there was enough to sustain me for the rest of my time here, but then our pastor went on to read verses 9-11. The bullet point she used, was we need to “cultivate agape love towards one another”. In order to experience all that God has for us, we have to grow in our love for each other. We need to be experts in love! Confession time: I definitely wasn’t feeling the love for that group of people in my community who slandered my name. Who am I to complain?  Paul was in chains when he wrote in Philippians 4:4 “Rejoice in the Lord always!” If I am to be pure and blameless, I need to grow in love. 

Speaking of being pure and blameless (v.10-11), the literal translation means “not to stumble against”. *Again, at this point, my ears where burning. On Wednesday, when I had planned to tell my Head Teacher I quit, I also planned on giving those teachers a piece of my mind once and for all. Thank God the Lord stopped me with these words today, cause I was surely about to make a fool of myself. I genuinely want others to see Christ when they look at me. How would those teachers ever had known that, if my head is about to pop off? What I learned today is that our lives are either a smooth path that others will see God, or they are rough and distracting so that others will stumble to see the truth.  Looks like I have my work cut out for me this week.

Hebrews 12:14 “Make every effort to live in peace with everyone and to be holy; without holiness no one will see the Lord.”

Month of Retreats

The month of June, I spent nearly every weekend on a retreat/workshop. The first workshop was with PC for our COS (Close of Service), the second was a spiritual retreat by an organization in America called the Family Foundation, and the third was a ladies retreat with the women of my church. I had a lot of fun bonding with the people on the trip and seeing some amazing sites of Swaziland and South Africa.

COS Conference at Maguga Dam. Situated in the North Western corner of Swaziland, the Maguga Dam is one of the most beautiful sites in the country, if not the best. It is covered with the highest mountains and lowest valleys. The dam is just below the town of Piggs Peak, which is the area known for their forest. I went there with all the PCVs who I came with in 2012. It was our final workshop where we learned about our next steps as we go back into the real world. We learned about the opportunities we have as a RPCV, the resources, and the community. We also learned about all the stuff that still needs to be done. I still need to do two more reports at least, have a couple exit interviews, poop in a cup, get tested for HIV, return my fake penis model, and get rid of my cats. Thankfully I have 2 more months to figure that all out.

This was by far the nicest facility where PC has ever held a workshop for us. It was our reward for finishing up our service. We ate a lot, and played a lot, and took more than our fare share of pictures. The last day we all sat in a circle and wrapped string around our wrist, where we were all attached. As we sat in silence, we realized that this was the last time we will all be Group 10 together. After our moment of solace, we cut the string and tied it on our wrist. Eventually the string will fall off, and when it does, we will have moved on.

 

Ancient Paths Weekend at Mabuda Farms. I spent the weekend at Mabuda Farms, which is a beautiful Bed and Breakfast owned by a wonderful couple that goes to my church. They hosted this workshop that is initially from the states. I had never heard of it before, but apparently they have a huge overseas base. The workshop was about the power of blessings within your family. I was the only single young adult there, and I also had no children, so for me the weekend was more about learning and soaking in the information, rather than a “breakthrough”. I really did enjoy it and plan on utilizing the information when I do decided to have a family. They also did a session where we learned about our names. In Hebrew tradition, there was a name ceremony. They applied that same concept and told us how special our names our and how they reflect us. My name was spot on. Taylor, which I always knew was “a tailor, or someone to mend clothes”. It also means, “to cut, or covenant”. I applied that to God having his covenant with me. The attributes are also that I am a creative person. I wish I could write more about it, but I don't have the exact information on me as a write this. Then my middle name, Noelle means “Christmas” which I already knew. It also means “bringer of good news”. I look at were I am and what I want to do with my life and it totally applies. The attributes associated with that name are cheerful and adventurous. Kudos mom for naming me!

Women of Strength Conference in Mdloti, South Africa. This was by far my favorite place, mainly because I was right on the beach! I spent the weekend with 24 wonderful women from my church. The theme of the weekend was Women of Strength. The biblical example used were, Deborah, Ruth, and Abigail. I loved this retreat, because it was based on everything I've been doing here- empowering women. Our pastor encouraged the women to be bold and strong, to have a can-do attitude, to be humble, and patient, to be inspired, and to always let God lead you. We spent time going to Durban, and there we went to Ushaka Sea World as well as the harbor. The weather didn't cooperate with us until the last day, but that was perfect. Our final day we had a church service and communion on the beach. Looks like I can cross that one off my bucket list!

Challenge for Africa

Not to long ago, I read a book called “Challenge for Africa”, you can read the review here. The book has been in my mind ever since, especially with all the news hitting Swaziland right now. With my time coming to a close (68 days left), I have to wonder, is Swaziland really better than it was when I first came 2 years ago? Sure, there has been a new airport built, unnecessary but nice. There has also been a lot of development in Ezulweni with the expansion of their new mall. Even Mbabane, the country's capital got a face lift. Does all that equate to progress?

In the eyes of the privileged, I am sure they think so. However, if the game changers of the country actually took a moment to drive their new S- class Mercedes out of the city and into the rural areas, they would see that the country they live in is far away from progress. Right now I am speaking of infrastructure, even though we all know advancement is more than a few buildings. If one was to go off the beaten path, away from Manzini, Ezulweni, and Mbabane, they would notice the horrible road conditions that connect the country together. If you go to the bottom region of the country, the majority is made up of gravel roads. If you go to the Lubombo region where I live, you'll be hard-pressed to find a patch in the road that isn't shamed with potholes. These conditions are embarrassing to the nation, considering that major business happens along these “highways”. In my neighborhood alone, we have the factory for Swaziland's most profitable export, sugar. We also are host to many tourist attractions, with several game reserves that are home to the Big 5. Speaking of tourists, if you want to get to Mozambique, you have to drive on these roads. That new airport I mentioned earlier that was just built, it's also here in Lubombo. It was built with the idea of bringing more business into the country. In fact we even had the Namibian president come to my village last month. With all of this traffic in my region, it's a pity that the major roads which carry people are distressing. This rant isn't about me being picky or bitter, it is based on facts and public opinion. This year alone, we have had over 30 people die in major traffic accidents. For a country this size, it's simply inexcusable.

Cars swerving to dodge potholes.

According to the Swaziland government website, they define a first world country is when “all citizens are able to pursue their life goals and live lives of value and dignity. This implies that all citizens have access to sufficient economic resources, education, health, quality infrastructure, and government services.” Swaziland is in the spotlight, for making the bold statement that they will become first world with in the next decade. The king has a vision to take Swaziland to first world status by 2022. *sigh* Where do I even begin with this? Seriously. Sometimes I just shake my head with the overwhelming tasks ahead. As we speak, my high school debate team is preparing for a symposium with the Swaziland Standard Association (SWASA). They have to answer the question, “how will standards assist Swaziland in reaching first world status?” It's been two months, and my students still haven't come up with the answer. Maybe they know deep down inside, but that thought process hasn't been taught to them- to be critical thinkers. They try to use the internet, but the answer to that question isn't there. Even if it was, searching through Google has proven to be a tedious task. Fact is, 99% of my students (and maybe this statistic relates to the other schools too), are computer illiterate by time they graduate. I could blame myself if I wanted to; it is after all one of the projects PC does in teaching life skills. However, if I were to carry that burden, then my work here would not be limited to two years- it's a lifetime of work. I can only hope the next PCV can help improve that statistic. Back to what I was saying about this symposium coming up. This whole discussion of improving SD to be first world, has been nothing but a discussion. A few weeks ago, business and lawmakers met with SWASA to have a forum on what the country can do. One of the ministers even stated that all businesses should work with SWASA. How can businesses work with SWASA when the country isn't even that concerned with the standards anyways. And if businesses registered with the standards, who would be the one to make sure that there is accountability? In my life skills class I teach, using South African text books, they even mention that a good government has accountability. The whole point of this post is to create a discussion. Talk about the repercussions, talk about the benefits, talk about the challenges and the changes that need to happen for this country to be first world. It won't happen unless the people do it. The whole point is to be less dependent on foreign aid and counsel. Let the country be responsible for itself. The only ones who can save Africa, is Africa. One of my favorite heroines, Kenyan born Wangari Maathai talks a lot on this.

This brings me to my last and final concern. A country with real motivation to be change will change. Cut the facade and be a country of action. Last week, Swaziland was revoked it's privileges to be apart of the African Growth OpportunityAct (AGOA) by the US. AGOA helps over 40 Sub-Saharan countries gain duty free access to the American market. In Swaziland, this affected the textile and agriculture industries that employed over 20,000 people. Now, thousands of employees have lost their jobs. Swaziland failed to meet the 5 AGOA benchmarks which included; registration and recognition of trade unions and employee federations, full passage of the amendment to the Suppression of Terrorism Act, freedom of assembly, speech, and organization, dissemination of implementation of the code of good practice on protest and industrial actions. Coming into the AGOA isn't mandatory, and America isn't bullying Swaziland to abide by its rules. AGOA is another means for which countries can take accountability into the advancement of their society. America's mission is to promote democracy. Underlining the three goals of PC, it still reeks with American democracy propaganda, but is that really a bad thing. We are not trying to change the government structure, in fact, I think a monarchy is just fine here. It is the idea of democracy and the idea of letting citizens voices being heard, and the protection of human rights, that we're all after. As I type this, two Swazi's are still sitting behind bars for exorcising their right to freedom of speech. Protesters and shut down and workers rights are being ignored. How is that a good thing? Taking a quote from Wangari, she says “ Democracy doesn't solely mean one person one vote. It also means, among other things, the protection of minority rights; an effective and truly representative parliament ; an independent judiciary; an informed and engaged citizenry; and independent fourth estate; the rights to assemble, practice one's religion freely, and advocate for one's own view peacefully without fear of reprisal or arbitrary arrest; and an empowered an active civil society that can operate without intimidation.”

As Swazi's sit on edge of this pivotal moment, one can only hope that this be a wake of call. There is no room for “Swazi-time”. If change is to happen, it has to happen'now now'.

Absence Makes the Heart Grow Fonder

I've purposely kept my private life private, but with every new season comes change. I suppose it's time I open up a bit and share about what is very special to me. Sometimes you have to get out of your environment to really appreciate someone or something. The someone I am referring to is my boyfriend of six years, Jason. It's been quite the journey for us since I've been here. Before I left, I always avoided the conversation of “what's going to happen when you leave”, and due to my negligence, I came to Swaziland uncertain. In my defense, at the time I didn't know what I wanted and I also didn't know what to expect while I was here. So answering that question of what will happen, was something that I figured would unfold itself as time went on. Spoiler Alert: it did.

To catch you all up, on our relationship “pre-Swaziland”, we had been long distance for the entire four years, only seeing each other on weekends. That wasn't a major problem though, since I was nonstop working and we both had school to manage through. It did play a sour part though in how I perceived the relationship. I had never seen what true love looked like, and I didn't know what a healthy relationship was. Honestly, I didn't know what I was doing and probably should have stayed single till I had it figured out. Luckily though, I had a man who was patient and stuck with me. It's safe to say that I've aged him a few extra years.

Speed up to my two years in here in Swaziland, Jason continued to be constant support for me. He amazingly enough called me multiple times a week and we'd talk for hours. You don't even want to imagine how fast an international phone bill adds up so quickly. And all those trips I took, remember the one to Durban and my Christmas vacation home to America.... all him! But it's not those extravagant things that made me say, “Wow. This guy here!”. It was the fact that when I still “didn't have time to talk” here in Swaziland, he was patient with me.

It took awhile for me to finally come around. I think the deciding moment was seeing all the unhealthy relationships here. Monogamy in Swaziland is for the birds. Men have a wife and about 3 girlfriends. Women have a husband and then some too. *Not everyone... but I can count on one hand all the healthy relationships I've encountered.* I just came to a point where I got so sick of seeing this, and I had a bit of self reflection. I thought, I am sitting here slowing self-destructing. Eventually his patience will run out, and I'll be damned if I ever find a guy as good as Jason. I'm literally throwing this all away... and for what? Eventually my two years will be over and it'll be time to come home, but by then, it'll be too late.

This is why I wanted to take the time to publicly acknowledge the number one man in my life. It is six years overdue. As you can tell, it hasn't been all roses, and it certainly wasn't a walk in the park for Jason. Through a lot of hard work and communication I feel like finally we are on the same page and have the same goal in mind (and no, not marriage... but maybe!). Swaziland was a life changing experience in all forms of the phrase. The thing I am most thankful for is how it saved our relationship. I'd like to think that had I stayed in America, I'd eventually mature into a healthy state; but I really believe that because of my stubbornness and reluctance to admit I need to change, something drastic had to happen, like a change of environment.

So what's next for us? Well in about three months, he'll be flying back over here to travel through southern Africa with me. Then hopefully we will finally make the move and no-longer be long distance. 

Two Years Under the Belt

I feel like I am off my game. Since my computer broke 2 months ago, I've not done any writing. I'm forcing myself here to sit down and share my thoughts, but my words have escaped me. The other day I read a sample of my writing that was from my last month in America (May 2012). I couldn't believe how well I use to write! Being here, my use of the English vocabulary is about the standard of my overall cleanliness... which isn't much; it comes with the territory. I'm so glad I forgone grad school for the time being. It'd be a quick dose of reality when I see my first paper dosed with red markings. My first task upon arrival, besides eating a foot long from Subway, will be to get re-acclimated into the English language (which doesn't mean learning such phrases as “turnt up” or “I can't”). It'll be nice to speak in a manner that isn't slow and not take any pauses.

Speaking of coming home, you're probably wondering when that is. If you've been a faithful reader or have noticed that my heading says “two years in Swaziland”, then you know that two years is now now. However, my work is far from over, and I still have a ways to go. Peace Corps lets us COS (close of service) within in a three month period. It is the month before our swear-in date in July, then officially 2 years in August, or a month after our swear-in date in September. Most PCVs are jumping on the first plane in July, I'm waiting a little longer. I initially was planning on extending my service for a third year, so I had been living and making plans like I was going to be around for some time. For personal reasons that include missing hot showers, I decided last minute to come home as scheduled this year. This decision threw a wrench in my plans. I have several projects that now I need to close and then pass over. I also didn't plan on being home so early. So rather than take the GRE and apply to grad schools now, I am going to take the remaining months of the year when I am home to get sorted. I will share more of those plans in a later blog when it comes closer to check out of here, but I am content with my decision.

This past week we had a COS conference at this beautiful lodge in Swaziland. It was our final workshop and the best one yet! This conference gave us the logistics of how we leave the country; there are a bunch of checklists and signatures to be had if I ever want to leave. We also spent the bulk majority of the time preparing for when we are back home. We learned about our options as a RPCV (returned peace corps volunteer), and how to market all our skills that we have obtained over the two years. The biggest skill I think all of us could say we have mastered, is patience. We joke, but going back to America, to a fast pace- stressed induced culture, we will be rather zen-like compared to the rest. That is a skill that can only be acquired through waiting countless hours for transportation, meetings to start, and people to show up. It is tested by taking days to have clothes finally cleaned and more importantly dry, by taking years for people to finally pronounce your name correctly, let alone remember it. It is well-tried though our cooking skills and learning how to make something out of nothing, and from being interrupted every five minutes by a pack of little hands knocking on your door as you try to sleep in on your day off.

At the conference, someone said that as a PCV, we got a Ph.D in Life. At this point, we are all, whether we admit it or not, a glass case of emotions-- and we should be. We've seen and been through more than most ever will, and now it is coming to an end. Our standard of living varies between each PCV, and so do our experiences, but as we came together last week, we all shared the same frustration, the same concern, and the same sense of pride for our community. It's so cliché, but these two years have taught me to enjoy life and make the most of every opportunity.

"A Little Party Never Hurt Nobody"

Made the paper, yet again. If I can recall correctly, this makes the 5th time. This photo was in the country's national newspaper. It was taken during the Simunye Fun Fair which is a huge music festival hosted right here in my community. Amazing artists such as Mi Casa and Freshly Ground were present.

 Oh boy. For your amusement....

It Reads: "Royal Swaziland Sugar Corporation's Wandile Ngcamane and Taylor Cruz were a marvel to watch with their dance moves on the lawn in front of the stage.

Africa Game of Thrones

This article was originally published in the Atlantic Magazine by Thor Halvorssen and Alex Gladstein 
Everything in this article is accurate and currently happening in this country. Peace Corps doesn't want us to get involved with politics here, and by posting this, I don't believe I am. I am simply stating the facts that everyone knows to be true.If you want to know more, you can private message me. I think it's important for people to know the realities of what really goes on here. You can read the original article HERE of See article below:

Africa Game of Thrones
 
Imagine a mountainous kingdom at the edge of a lush, tropical continent, where one house has clung to power for hundreds of years. The aged king passed away after ruling for more than six decades in one of history's longest reigns. He fathered more than 200 children but left no heir, unleashing an epic struggle between the queen regent and a handful of challengers in the royal court. Eventually, a 14-year-old boy, the product of one of the king’s hundreds of illegitimate affairs, was chosen as successor, and his mother was wedded to the dead leader’s corpse to legitimize the plot. Selected as a puppet, the new king quickly outgrew his courtiers and became notoriously cruel and corrupt.
Today, the new king rules from a castle and employs a royal guard to protect his 15 wives. He often picks a new wife in a national festival each summer where his servants round up tens of thousands of the most beautiful young virgins from all across the land. There, they dance shirtless, and the king examines each one, choosing his next bride.
This is a feudal society where the majority of the population are poor farmers, tilling land supervised by the royal palace. Through his relationships with foreigners, the king earns plenty of coin, but hardly any of it trickles down to the poor. Although surrounded by spectacular and exotic plants and animals, the king's subjects suffer from a lack of basic goods and modern medicine. More than one in four adults is afflicted with an incurable, often-fatal disease.
His Majesty has no rivals. Under his banner of a golden lion, he dictates the future of his people after chatting with his small council. Political parties are illegal, and any defiance or criticism of the royal family is outlawed. Even insulting the king’s name is liable to be punished by imprisonment. The king controls all feudal lands and local barons, along with the court system, press, police, and army. Any who choose not to bow their heads to his decree are rewarded with a stay in the royal dungeons, where a pair of leg irons, or worse—an ancient and excruciating form of foot torture—is the punishment of choice.
Considered the father of his people, the king’s legitimacy rests on ritual and superstition. To protect himself against demons, the king imbibes charms and potions. His royal court and ministers routinely grovel on the ground. If His Majesty deigns fit to visit a subject’s home, the chair in which he sits must be destroyed—or else, it is feared, an evil sorcerer might attack him.
We who write this are not on the production team of HBO’s Game of Thrones. We work in a human-rights organization in 2014. Yet we could be describing King’s Landing. Regrettably, however, this is no tale from Westeros: It is an accurate description of Africa’s last absolute monarchy, a tiny country near the continent’s southeastern coast called Swaziland.
King Mswati III, the real-life ruler of Swaziland, has held total dominion over this realm since 1986. Of course, Mswati’s lifestyle also includes the trappings of modernity: Maybach limousines, a DC-9 jet aircraft, and foreign bank accounts worth billions of dollars. The habitual treatment of his critics might be medieval, but his corruption parallels that of Russian President Vladimir Putin, North Korean dictator Kim Jong Un, and Equatorial Guinea strongman Teodoro Obiang.
Mswati does, in fact, select his new wives from tens of thousands of half-naked women crammed into a stadium. Elsewhere, 80 percent of the Swazi population makes less than two dollars per day. HIV, the incurable illness mentioned earlier, afflicts 31 percent of the country’s adults, the highest national rate on Earth. The average Swazi can only expect to live about 50 years.
Amid this bleakness, Swaziland is also home to some larger-than-life heroes whose bravery rivals that of any character found in George R. R. Martin’s Game of Thrones. This week, for instance, the human-rights lawyer Thulani Maseko and journalist Bheki Makhubu sat in prison, on trial for the crime of questioning the independence of Swaziland’s judicial system.
Last year, King Mswati violated a constitutional ban on foreign-born judges and personally installed Michael Ramodibedi of Lesotho, a pliable Mswati loyalist, as Swaziland’s chief justice. This February, Maseko and Makhubu wrote defiant articles in The Nation—the country’s only independent media outlet—excoriating Ramodibedi for imprisoning Bhantshana Gwebu, the national motor-vehicle inspector. Gwebu was just doing his job, but a car he impounded happened to be owned by one of Ramodibedi’s colleagues. Gwebu has been released on bail, pending his trial.
In Swaziland, following the law instead of a royal judge’s decree lands you in jail. So, in retaliation for their investigative journalism on Gwebu’s arrest, Mswati’s police raided Maseko and Makhubu’s homes, violently seized them, and brought them to “justice.” In true Westerosi style, they were arraigned not in a court of law with due process, but in the chief justice’s private chambers. As you read this, Maseko and Makhubu are in leg irons, lumped in dungeons with common criminals. The day before his arrest last month, Maseko accepted an invitation to speak in Norway at the Oslo Freedom Forum, which is organized by the Human Rights Foundation, about the state of human rights in his country. He’s scheduled to speak on May 13—if he’s released from jail in time.
“There is peace” in Swaziland, the head of the country’s only trade union once remarked. “But it’s not real peace if every time there is dissent, you have to suppress it. It’s like sitting on top of a boiling pot.

Fish Out of Water

The end of term one also meant the end of swimming season. The past few months I’ve been coaching the high school swim team. The funny part is I’m not a swimmer at all. I took swim lessons as a kid and spent my summers in the swimming pool, but I’ve never practiced the formal strokes. So how did I end up doing this? It all started when I took my life skill students to learn water safety. I am good friends with the local swim coach here and I’ve helped him with several swimming activities since he also coaches the kids I teach at the private school. Thus I asked the coach to come one afternoon and teach my high school students. Once he saw how good they were, he decided to continue working with not only that class, but the entire school—that’s when the swim team began.

                Due to the coaches schedule, he couldn’t be there everyday, that’s where came in as coach. I worked with the students every Tuesday- Thursday. Friday is when the coach came to watch them. I knew what the proper technique looked like, so standing on the outside of the pool I would tell them, “Chin up, kick from the waist, toes together, and thumbs out!” I also run drills with them, taught them the correct way to dive, and how to swim without holding their noses.  After two months of training, we took the kids to a gala (swim meet) where they competed against 4 other schools. They raced in back stroke, breast stroke, butterfly, and freestyle. Every single event they did, they won first place!

                I’ve tried different projects here, you know, ones that we’re my ides, but haven’t been as successful as this. This time around, I wasn’t pushing swimming on the kids, they were the ones who wanted it and took ownership. Four days a week the kids were in the pool. I didn’t have to drag them there. I even saw them practice alone on the weekends. These kids were excited to do something other than play soccer or netball.

                Like I said, there was some real talent in these kids.  There were a few who looked like torpedoes in the water. We even dubbed the nickname “Superman” to one of the boys because of how fast he was.  I wish I had more time here and had more help to let these kids explore their options available. As you’ve read in other blogs of mine, I started teaching dance lessons, the kids loved it—they were learning something more than just the traditional African dances. African kids are more than just soccer and learning home economics. Just like the youth around the world, they want to be exposed to gold, music producing, to technology, to art, etc. We can not limit their creativity or their interests, if we do, than we limit their future.