Blazer

           Our packing list said to bring one nice formal outfit for celebratory occasions. So I brought a blazer thinking I’d get to wear it to weddings, village ceremonies and the like. Unfortunately, I’ve donned that blazer far more times for funerals and memorial services than anything ebullient. This Sunday, I put on my jacket again not necessarily only to mourn the senseless murder of one of my South African friends, but to celebrate his amazing life and provide comfort to our friends.

            Amos was the guy who brought my first Brothers for Life group together. No one has made me prouder in Peace Corps than Amos. For any RPCVs or PCVs reading this, he was one I was sure was going to make it out of the vill. And you know those are few and far between. He was an amazing leader in and out of the classroom. Afterschool he would stay to help his fellow seniors study for their exams. On the weekends, he would write beats and songs with his rap group composed of other guys from our Brothers for Life club. A few weeks ago we started looking into ways he could actually pursue his dreams of becoming a police officer or a social worker.

            On Saturday night, he was at a shebeen with his girlfriend and two best friends Thabang and Thabang. A few guys asked him to help them find the path to another village in the dark and he agreed to walk them there. At his friends protest, Amos pulled out R20, handed it to them and said, “Look, I would never leave R20, so I promise I’ll be back.” Within a few minutes, Thabang and Thabang heard screaming from the trail. A few guys had attempted to rob Amos while he walked the trail in the dark. When he refused to give up his phone, he was stabbed in the heart and left to die. The two Thabangs found him there.

            What hurts the most is that a young man with so much potential to change the world was taken from us, instantly and unjustly. So this weekend, when I put on my blazer to honor the man Amos was, I hope you can also take a moment to think and pray for the young people in South Africa; those who are doing the right thing and becoming the men and women who will shape this country’s future. They need all the support they can get.

Bonds

I’ve been living in South Africa for 16 months now, and with in my community for over 12 of those. Before now, I never really considered the relationships I was building with my host family, my friends and co-workers. The friendships I made and the trust I developed for others came naturally over time and I rarely found myself in a position to think back on it.

Recently however, my host mom took a teaching position that requires her to live away from home during the week. She had been living at home with me full time since January and I had grown used to the new relationship we had of talking every afternoon when I got home from work. Our ability to speak in English allowed us to talk about all sorts of things: politics, her family, my family and more. Her leaving made me realize how much I felt apart of her family and how much I would miss not having her there to greet and talk with when I came home. This has happened with a lot of my relationships in Peace Corps. I’ve grown closer to my co-workers and supervisor, and I am excited to see (most of) them when I get back from trips. It is especially true with my fellow PCVs. Our collective attempts at understanding and coping with this experience brought us together out of necessity, but it is certainly the memories we created together that keep us close. While not at all the same, it reminds me of the bonds soldiers make in war: our friends/family at home cannot begin to imagine or relate to what were going through. But the guy/girl in the next bunker (village) knows exactly what it is like, so you go to them for support. If I leave with only one thing it’s the lifelong friendships I’ve made here in Peace Corps.

16 Months of Learning

1) I’ve found that I’ve adjusted completed to the slower pace of life, frequently dubbed “Africa Time” that is present in most of South Africa. In a lot of ways this has helped me better integrate into my community because I am in tune with the schedule of goings-on. However, my succumbing to “Africa Time” has it’s downsides. For instance, my counterparts were eager to start a new Zazi club. I happily agreed and we discussed some details and then we went about our days. I wholeheartedly expected to have at least two or three more of these casual discussions of the program before we got anything moving, so I was shocked when two days later my counterparts approached me and told me they were starting sessions the following Monday, only 4 days away. I had to scramble to get them supplies and documents for the program and it was nobodies fault but my own.

2) I am almost positive that every single PCV who has ever served has developed the same expression. It carries no real emotion, just an appreciation of whatever is going on and your utter lack of surprise at it. I can only describe it as the Barack Obama “Not Bad” meme, coupled with “Yep” instead.

Taxi breaks down? Yep.

Waitress teaches you how to eat ethnic food by sampling what she just brought you? Yep.

Nobody shows up for your event? Yep.

Someone calls you Lekgowa (white person), even though you know they know your real name? Yep.

Someone calls you fat (a compliment in South Africa) after you get back from the capital? Yep.

3) My ability to speak Sepedi has greatly increased over the past year. I frequently find myself speaking Sepedi without realizing it, or without first having to translate in my head. Having never studied another language as intently, I am really fascinated by the brain’s ability to tie words from different languages together so tightly that translation isn’t needed. There is still work to be done though. My grammar is atrocious and I weasel my way out of speaking in certain tenses (Past Negative) by piecing together from what I am comfortable with.

 4) Whether I am speaking in English or Sepedi, I have learned to use hand gestures for almost everything. It helps to prevent the inevitable, “what?” when someone didn’t exactly understand me, or I was speaking a little too fast in English.

5) Long Distance Travel has taken on a whole new meaning for me. Back in The States, the 6-7 hour drive from MA to MD was about the worst I would usually deal with. Now, I find it lucky that the taxi home from my shopping town only took 1h50min, or that I made it to Pretoria in less than 9 hours. Taxi travel has its upside: yes the gas is much cheaper. However I dream about having my car back. That six-hour journey from MA to MD is going to seem like nothing when I return. Why? Because I can stop when I want. I can listen to the music I want. And most importantly, when it is hot enough to bake bread in my car, I can turn on the A/C or even roll down the windows.