Building a Bridge

I take a lot for granted. I take for granted running water, regular electricity, buildings being built, personal vehicles and a plethora of more things. One of the main things I take for granted is infrastructure. Ok, taking a rickety bus for 30 minutes on a dirt road, then transferring, waiting for another bus and then driving another hour and a half is a pain to get groceries but at least there is a road to it on. Walking 10km, jumping over massive ruts formed in the road and wading through the water, just to catch a taxi because your road has washed away is a brutal way to leave.

Just after the first of the year, a massive storm hit the Ha-Lambani area. For a week straight, heavy rains poured down and flooding ensued. While the rain pelted my village, I was away visiting my friend Mardy, a fellow PCV, in his village where the rain was much more subtle. While I was returning, my host mom called and said, "Sean, don't come back. The bridge is broke. A child has died."

Main bridge into Ha-Lambani. A dirt road used to be level to the concrete block.

I traveled over my village's dirt road for about 18 months at that point. I loved the beautiful picturesque landscape, the dust blowing everywhere and the welcoming silence of nature with the rare birds abundant. I had waged in on debates about the pros and cons of a tar road, often loathing the idea of regular traffic throughout the village, destroying the peacefulness. The flood made me think twice about where I stood.

I never got the full story, but it basically sounded like a young child was going to fetch something during a flood, jumped onto a termite hill which is usually very stable, slipped and fell in the rushing current. I don't know if a road would have saved this child's life, but it certainly would have made life easier before this tragedy. Goods would have flowed easier into the village. Services such as maintenance to consistently broken water pipes could have been more easily completed. Emergency vehicles would be able to travel in times of crisis such as flooding.

I arrived back in the village, the day after the last rain carrying 5kg of apples and 4 loaves of bread because my host mom said there is not even bread in the local shop. I know the rain meant fresh greens would be on the menu for the coming month and most likely insects, so we were okay on that end. As I walked through the village, it looked like a war zone. No vehicles could pass and people were aimlessly walking, looking at the raging river and ravaged landscape. I couldn't sense when all this would get fixed. I wasn't sure how it could be fixed.

Apparently, the road needed to be fixed first. Duh, Sean! A construction of a road seems simple to me, but then again, I've never had to build or pressure my government to build one. Up until this past February, I'm not sure if I had ever seen one built. Ha-Lambani, being sweet, built their own bridge and I gave my pathetic effort. I may live in a village, but I don't have village strength.

For 3 days, villagers moved earth and stone to create a temporary bridge to connect to the concrete block. In the picture to the left, people are laying down stones for traction. Villagers from over 8km away came to pitch in. In the picture to the right, you can see where the bridge washed away the new one was formed.

Even the children pitched in! School ended a few hours early one day so the teachers and children could help repair one of the nearby, smaller bridges in order for small vehicles to pass.

I'm not sure where this blogpost is going. This is the second place I have gone to where a major flood has happened during my two year commitment (Nashville 2010). It was a wild site. Hearing and seeing mud huts  wash away and hearing about death and injury was heart wrenching. After the village gets rocked, to see them not wait for the inadequate government services was invigorating. I felt like I was watching that scene from Black Hawk Down where some European town was bombed and the people started clearing the rubble the next day. I think that was the movie.

This Peace Corps experience has taught me a lot. Be good to your neighbor.

Only in South Africa

The All Blacks doing the famous "haka" pregame psych out dance

Dried caterpillars, soak in water than cooked up in tomatoes, onions, hot sauce, and butter. Yum.

Only in South Africa, can I go from cooking masonzha (caterpillars) to watching the Springboks play the All Blacks.

Maybe it was a month ago, all of the people I came to South Africa, minus the few that have left early, came to Pretoria for our Mid Service Training for about a week. The main aim of the training is to get everyone back together to build morale and push home strong. We also had medical, dental (best cleaning ever), and sessions about the prior year and the way forward. Being the super cool group that we are, we also organized an Assassins game, a Scavenger Hunt, and a Talent Show. It was awesome. You should try to find James Grosvenor's blog on the internet box for some cool photos of the events.

When the week was finished, the fun wasn't over. A few of us stayed an extra day to see ultimate rugby game - Springboks versus the All Blacks. This was not only huge to see, but it was super exciting to go into Johannesburg's Soccer City Stadium. We arrived early to the game and I could have sworn I was back in America. There was tailgating, SUVs in the city, and heavy set people. It was awesome.

After socializing a bit outside of the stadium, we made sure we arrived early to see the famous "haka" dance down by the New Zealand All Blacks team. It was awesome and the jumbotron picture at the top of this blog sums it up - big, angry dudes yelling at big angry dudes. Pretty exciting.

The game started and I couldn't really follow it. Plus there was so many people, I could hardly focus. It was sensory overload. The Springboks lost, but our friends in Johannesburg, Sue and Eddy, made us pizza so it was okay.

Patrols!

                        Grade 6 Masetoni learners learning North, East, South, and West from their Patrol Leader

For the past 5 months, I have been floundering to get my Scout troop in Pfukoni going. Ever since my training back in April when Scouts came up from Gauteng to train adults on how to run a Scout troop, I have been fondly reminiscing my Scouting days and trying every sneaky way I could to provide similar opportunities for my learners at Pfukoni. So far, very little results. I've never been able to use the patrol system where two or three leader Scouts known as Patrol Leaders receive directions from an adult, the Scouter, and the Scouts run the meeting. Well with 4 Scouts, this isn't an incredibly effective method, but we're still chipping away.

I knew that I didn't have any adult support at my other school of Masetoni, but I figured I would give it a shot two weeks ago. WOOOOOO. Awesomeness. I asked one teacher and he left the learners from Grade 6 skip cleaning to participate in their first Scouts meeting. I taught them the salute, the handshake and the Promise and then we went outside and played a game, did an activity and had a flag break. Guess what? I used the patrol method the whole time. My three girls who led the meeting could have taken better to the role and all the learners were so excited.

So if you every are trapped in a situation where you have 20 or so kids and you have a plan but you don't how to implement it, break them up into three groups. See who the leaders are, tell them your plan, and let them carry it out. It will make your life easier and their life more fulfilled.

The Man, the Myth, the Legend

                             8 year old Fhedzani teachin SOUNS to the 4 year olds at the Cretche (Preschool)

One of the first things my host mom in Pfukoni said, translated through the principal, was, "you teach my son English and I'll teach you Tshivenda." I said, translated by no one because its pretty American, "deal." Well 13 months later, my Tshivenda is shotty and Fhedzani, the son that was talked about, can carry a conversation with anyone reading this post.

A child's mind never ceases to amaze me. I am the only person in Pfukoni that he speaks to in English and that is only a few hours a day (increasingly a lot lately since I purchased a basketball and he is learning to dribble). He watches hours of TV and just remembers it all. It's nutty. He says phrases that I know I never say.

So now that I have another person to speak English with in the village (the count is up to 3), I figured I can't waste this opportunity. So one day, after his school was over, I took him to teach the cretche (preschool) kids their letter sounds. My intention was to use Fhedzani as an observer to see if I am saying the most effective phrases because for some reason I thought I could control 3 and 4 year olds.

After about an hour of teaching, all the kids and I sing our song and I return to where my bags are and eat a meal the cretche gives before heading back home. While we are eating, Fhedzani says, "Sean, tomorrow, why don't you take two kids and I take two kids." I quickly agreed because the idea of an older kid teaching a younger kid willingly should never be passed up.

On our walk back though, I realized his real motive. "Do you like coming to the cretche?" I said. "Yeah, they feed me good food." Food rocks and now I have a little buddy, two times a week to help teach the future leaders of Pfukoni. It is an exciting happening, and I am hoping it leads to more willingness to participate in the classroom. If an 8 year old can do it, surely anyone can?

I saw cave paintings

Yes I did, but first I saw Phiphidi Waterfall with Phil Smoke! Phil came and visited me in Venda back in late June and we embarked on a trip through Venda. After chilling in my village, eating fresh chicken and dried worms, we kicked things off proper with the waterfall and hike through the stream of the fall. It was sweet. Mad rocks to climb and perfect relaxing spots to talk. Two of my other Peace Corps friends, James and Kyle joined too.




Then we went to Lake Fundudzi. Sorry commoners, but you can't look directly at the sacred lake and I forgot to hold a camera while looking through my legs. We actually had a nice hike out to the lake and split a chicken loaf of bread between Phil, 5 other PCVs, and myself.

The next day, we cooked bread in a termite hill. There is a long history I could write about the folks that trekked across South Africa and used cooking methods like this, but maybe another time.




After a good rest and some bread, we went and saw some San cave paintings. Pretty sweet. One was of an elephant that I told everyone I saw but didn't really. They assured me it was there and I agreed. I knew my peanut butter sandwich wouldn't be as good if I kept fighting it.



It must have been the cave paintings, but we felt ambitious and did a second leg of our hike to see another "waterfall." This translated into following a pipe and getting lost. We figured we could just go straight down to the train track. Bad idea. After a few eight foot drops and crawling between rocks, we made it back safely.

Cut short.

Scouts Venda Begins!

Pictured above is the first group of trained Scouters in Venda with Peace Corps Volunteers and Scouts Training Committee.

I Ran a Half Marathon

Being an Education Volunteer in the Peace Corps means you can only leave your village when school is out of session.  This is gravy because you don't have many reasons to leave your village other than catching up with other volunteers or going on an adventure in a foreign country.  So if the majority of the other volunteers are doing something not so cool, your choices are slim.  Yet I found a way to have my cake and eat it too this past break.

My fellow volunteers decided to be good people and raise funds for the KLM Foundation (http://www.klm-foundation.org/) by running in the Longtom (http://www.longtominfo.co.za/).  I joined the club (Thank you for your support, Eddie, Zack, and Robin).  I genuinely enjoy going to the rec and spending the entire day playing basketball, lifting, and swimming, but running 22km for 2 hours seems silly. Friends assured me it would be fun, I made sure I inserted some cool stuff before and after the run to be safe.

The race was on a Saturday, so I headed out of my village early on Wednesday to visit a private school and a fellow volunteer who lives closer to the race site about 4 hours South.  The private school was called LEAP (leapschool.org.za) and their website led me to believe I was going to walk into school that just drills Math and Science into young learners in English in order to raise their scores to get into university.  This they did but so much more. 

In a country ravaged with high crime rates, post-Apartheid tensions, and one of the world's highest HIV rate, LEAP approaches it's mandated Life Orientation course in a way that I have only seen at high functioning summer camps or religious groups.  LEAP has an Life Orientation teacher that spends time teaching the currciculum of sexual health, physical health, good decisions, etc. but the main focus of the class is a daily, one hour community meeting (students go to school 2 hours longer than mandated and have a half day of Saturday school).  Here the teacher steps back and the students talk about issues facing them and provide support to one another in a safe environment. 

Talking with these students, I could see the benefits of this environment.  Yes, they were more proficient in Math, Science, and English than students in my village, but their ability to converse, work together, and face adversity rivaled that of high performing students in the States.  It reminded me of how important emotional balance through positive conversation is to success in the classroom.

After talking with cool kids all day, a debrief between volunteers, and a good nights rest we prepared for our journey to the race.  We arose early, headed out, and arrived in Sabie, Mpumulanga on Friday during the mid afternoon after getting trapped in a crazy rainstorm.  The planning committee for the race found a solid backpackers (hostel) for us to stay at, gave us our race information, and we headed to bed early for the race.  At 5am, we needed to be at the bus stop to head up the Sabie mountains to the point of the half marathon starting line.

At the top of the hill there was an absurd amount of people jumping up and down, huddling together, rubbing their arms, and doing whatever to keep warm in this foggy, cold environment.  They assembled us to the starting line.  We were still huddled when this massive gun fired a shot and the mob of half motivated half marathoners started trotting down the hill to the city 22km away.

We trotted a bit, stretched a bit, toileted a bit, and talked a lot.  They gave us Bar One bars, Powerade, and jelly beans.  Racing is cool!  I finished in 2 hours 2 minutes, got a massage, ate some voers, and cheered in the 56km runners.  Yay!

After a night of hanging out and recovering, I headed to Johannesburg to visit schools and see the city a bit.  I traveled by taxi and met a guy on the bus that was heading my way.  We got off the taxi early and walked to a connecting taxi to avoid having to pay a large amount from going into the city.

The plan for the remainder of the trip was to CouchSurf with someone for 2 days and another for 2 more days and then head back to Venda.  Well I got into the town where my first CouchSurf host lived just to find out they forgot to tell me they worked until 11pm.  After dark in Johannesburg isn't a great idea.  I called a few friends and wound up taking the high speed Gautrain to a different part of town, getting picked up, and staying with my Peace Corps friend Mardy who was staying with a family to celebrate Passover.  I went from relying on public transit and sleeping on couches to having a private driver and sleeping in my own bed.  Only in South Africa. 

This worked out in more than just a comfort way.  I got to spend time with a much different South African family that I interact with daily in Ha-Lambani my village.  I learned a ton about crime and why every house looks like a castle with electric fences guarded by fully automatic armed guards.  I also picked up a partner in crime.

We checked out another LEAP school, this time in one of Johannesburg's most impoverished neighborhoods, Alexandria.  Same awesomeness as Jane Furse, but the school was mostly led by former students.  Got to love efforts to stop brain drain!  The following days visit to Sci Bono Science Museum was what stole the cake on the week.

I heard about Sci Bono through an email correspondence with someone from USAid.  They recommended it because of the awesome opportunities it provided to low income students in the area.  Before we arrived, they had a whole day mapped out for us visiting each different department and learning about the whole operation. 

Now in the States, I always thought Science centers were lame.  I just never got into them.  Now that I have taught for a few years, I see how fun they can be.  Sci Bono was fun in all the familiar ways of cool exhibits that challenge the five senses, explore technology, and give students a hands on experience with science.  Yet Sci Bono went a few extra miles that I had not heard of before. 

At Sci Bono, they had a computer research center, a chemical lab, a Department of Education school improvement team, and a whole building dedicated to career counseling.  The research center and lab were filled with high school students participating in a competitive holiday science camp.  We had conversations with the school improvement team on their teacher coaching program and weeklong immersion program to get teachers up to speed on skills.  In the career counseling building, we talked about how the science center promotes trade schools for students that aren't benefiting from the college preparatory route and were given a stack of materials on careers to fill our community library (In the works.  Want to help me raise $330 for books to fill a library?  Give at https://www.peacecorps.gov/index.cfm?shell=donate.contribute.projDetail&projdesc=674-072)

I ended my visit playing with all the exhibits then having lunch with 3 of the employees all of different ethnic backgrounds - one Venda, one Zulu, and one Setswana.  It was wild sitting there talking about South African history with 3 very different experiences.  We talked about the positives and negatives of the homelands, how the townships work today, and funny memories.  I have been trying to learn as much as possible on South African history, but to sit down with guys that have lived and are it, was icing on an already sweet day.  Plus I had ostrich for the first time.  Delicious.

Umm, then I went back to Venda.