8.06.09
The next day emotionally and physically exhausted we are to finally meet our counterparts fr0m our soon to be permanent sites. I place Tfoliwe's body in a box and walk her to the training site- they will need to examine her brain. As I predicted Washington, CDC, Regional Director, country director, safety and security, are all discussing what to do with me and how many post exposure shots I am to be given. Myself and three other people I had exposed.
Peace Corps Swaziland- I am sorry.
Of course I am the first to get treated for rabies in the group.
Barely awake- we meet our counterparts. We are seated in rows not organized in any particular order and given name tags- I am Meredith Brooks again. "Meredith Nkiligi" (my new village name) Name tag reads. Seated all around are our future Swazi counterparts. We dont know who we belong to yet. We have a seat. Musa asks each of us to stand- say our name and our permanent site. He asks the counterparts to stand and identify themselves when they hear their sites called by us. From this point on we think in terms of two years- this will be our school, our clinic, our town, or home, make, babe, sisi, dog, our counterpart for the next two years...
It's my turn- I stand- "Meredith Nkiligi". In the very back- he stands. "Bekethemba Shongwe Nkiligi." I point and smile. Afterwards we find our counterparts and sit next to them. We go through a series of intoductions. Babe Shongwe informs me he will not be my counterpart. It is very likely I will not get a counterpart. A huge HUGE disappointment. Having a helpful counterpart can make a world of difference on how effective you are as a volunteer. Babe Shongwe is the secretary of the inner council in Nkiligi. The inner council is part of the Umphagatsi. The Umphagatsi is where the chief lives. The chief is like the king of a village- the inner council like parliament. Babe Shongwe acts as the secretary and the community police officer in this village. He knows everyone and everything in Nkiligi. He would be a great counter part to have.
He tells me, "Dont worry sisi- I will find you a counterpart. We want you to work with a teen. He will give you insight, an in, into the teen world. Sisi, we have a big problem with our youth in Nkiligi. They are stealing and raping from the elders. They are drinking everyday and skipping school. There are gangs and these children have nothing to do."
The rest of the day we are led in discussions of cultural differences. But for once it is not us who are being lectured on cultural tolerance and understanding. Peace Corps briefs our Swazi counterparts on what Americans feel is inappropriate culturally. Its strange and amazing to hear someone else talk about the oddness of your own culture. It's not until you leave your culture that you truly see it. A counterpart raises his hand and asks, "Why is it rude for us to ask a woman why she is not married or assume that she is?" I raise my hand and explain that assuming we are married or wondering why we are not is, in a way, implying we SHOULD be married or we are lacking something. I explain that an American woman more and more is becoming more than just the role of a wife. To assume we should be married is implying this is the only role in society we should possess- that of "wife". One of the volunteers stands up to write some key points we have addressed on a flip chart. She is left handed. The Swazis begin whispering amongst themselves. "She is using her left hand... .." "Why is she writing with THAT hand?" A counterpart raises his hand, "Excuse me, someone should tell this sisi what it means to write with your left hand. You should not be using your left hand sisi." Peace Corps explains. In American culture the left hand is not a dirty hand. They encourage our counterparts to go into our communities and explain to the Swazis the differences in our cultures to help promote tolerance and understanding of differences.
And here we sit, 66 of us seated in rows- side by side. I look at the back of PCT's and their counterparts. I look at myself. How strange to think of us as a resource- a tool for 33 different villages.
The next day, Babe Shongwe takes me and my bags to begin 5 days of OJT (on the job training) at my soon to be permanent site and my soon to be permanent family- for the next two years.
Day 1
Some how along the way mayonnaise bursts open in my bag- mayonnaise shoes, mayonnaise alarm clock, clothes, can opener, book and journal. I don't know which is more embarassing. Admitting I once again carelessly packed my bags (this time, however, it wasn't icy hot or toothpaste) or admitting I now like mayonnaise.
As Babe Shongwe and I are driving along maybe the bumpiest road I have ever been on, he asks me, "Sisi- would you like to drive?" I respond. " No Babe, like I have said before, I cannot- Peace Corps rules. I cannot drive any vehicles for two years- too dangerous." "But what if I am sick?" He asks. "And I need you to drive me to the doctor?" "Then you don't call me for a ride." He laughs. "OK sisi, you pass the test." "You were testing me?" I ask. "Yes sisi- good job."
The little red jetta stops in front a series of red bricked homes. I look out the window. I see around 50 people sitting under a tree. "OK sisi, let me introduce you to the chief, the inner council, the bucupho, the invudnda." All the important people of a village. "WHAT" I exclaim. We have just arrived to Nkiligi, I have not even met my family. It's day one. But he tells me today I am fortunate- there is a big meeting today amongst the inner council and the chief and everyone will be here to meet me. The bucopho, an important figure in the inner council, approaches me. "Are you comfortable speaking to a large group of people? Introducing yourself, explaining why you are here and what you plan on doing?" I tell him with confidence, "Yes, and I can even do it in Siswati." Im screaming in the inside.
I sit with the people, under a tree, as Babe Shongwe introduces me in Siswati. Occasionally the audience will look at me smiling and laughing. I have no idea what he is telling them. I hear him go on, "fjkdfjkdjfkdjf TSANDZA dfjkdjfdkfj". Tsandza- meaning love. A gogo leans over to me and whispers, "He is telling them not to propose love to you. That you are too busy and too expensive. He is warning us it is not polite to ask if you are married." He looks down at me smiling, extends his arm out, "OK sisi- your turn." I whisper, "Thanks for stealing my introduction man."
Afterwards, Babe takes me to meet the chief. How will I know which one is the chief? I remember asking the same question to a family friend of mine in the States. A veternarian who is coinincidentally here in Africa for the same two years I am. In Uganda, Rwanda, and the Congo she is studying mountain gorillas. Before she left, she told me before she could work on these gorillas she had to find the head mountain gorilla, submit, and in a way, ask his permission to come into his community and work with his gorillas. "How will you know which one is the head one?" I asked. She replied, "Oh you'll know."
On a bench under a tree- a man, I am guessing, in his mid 50's sits before a dozen people seated on the ground. They speak to him, head down, they raise their hands, they thank him repeadtly as he listens to their problems. I know, this is the chief. Before sitting amongst the others Babe leans in and whispers to me, "Are you scared sisi?" "No Babe, I got this." I am screaming in the inside. It is now Babe's turn to introduce me to the chief. The chief listens, he does not look at me. Then he responds in a very low calm voice. In fact- not once has he really spoken over a whisper. He almost looks and sounds like the God Father. As Babe Shongwe is rambling on about how.. awesome I am- in Siswati, ADD grabs a hold and I start to focuse on a rooster going to town on a chicken behind Swazi God Father. The idea of sex in the "animal" world is rape in ours. How strange. How can this be beneficial for evolution? This rooster spent almost twenty minutes chasing this poor chicken around. Why not give the hen a clitoris? Less work for the rooster... life becomes so much easier. It's a win win. Wait, does a chicken have a clitoris? I mean I've never really asked or thought about it... I wonder.... "Sisi....sisi....sisi. Your turn." I snap out of it and introduce myself in the little Siswati I know...again. Silence follows.
The chief looks down at the groud- he's choosing his words carefully. Im fearing he knows no English. But then he looks directly at me and says/whispers, " We thank you for coming here and helping us. Swaziland is in trouble. We are at war here. An invisibile battle. AIDS is fighting us." He looks off into the distance. "You and your people are like soldiers. Here to help us. Our youth is wreckless. They are destoying themselves and others. We need someone with a new voice- a new perspective to talk to them. They are not listening to us. We thank you, we hope you can help us." Hands up, head down- I thank him. I could have remained silent with only a thank you to give- but instead I wanted a dialogue a conversation with this man. I continue on. I explain what I've observed over the past 8 weeks. I explain the youth knows more about HIV/AIDS than I do. That my job is to not only to educate but to motivate. I want the youth excited about life. I told him my job was to learn from him to learn from Nkiligi for the next three months. And somewhere someday, together we can start to open some minds. He responds, "Yes Simphiwe- I think you are a gift. (simphiwe literally meaning "a gift from God"). I think you shall keep your name at your new home." A sigh of relief. PCT's have all become attached to their new Swazi names our training families had given us, but we were warned our new families would want to rename us.
He asks me to get up and walk with him- leaving Babe Shongwe for a bit. Babe waves and whispers to me, "He will ask you to be his wife." He laughs. Chief asks me where in America I am from. In Africa I am from Washington- Africa does not know Indiana. They know Washington. I tell him Washington. He tells me he went to a University, Vincennes, in Indiana. He tells me he has two children living in Gary, Indiana.
He asks me if I know Indiana.
The next day, Babe Shongwe takes me and my bags to begin 5 days of OJT (on the job training) at my soon to be permanent site and my soon to be permanent family- for the next two years.
Day 1
Some how along the way mayonnaise bursts open in my bag- mayonnaise shoes, mayonnaise alarm clock, clothes, can opener, book and journal. I don't know which is more embarassing. Admitting I once again carelessly packed my bags (this time, however, it wasn't icy hot or toothpaste) or admitting I now like mayonnaise.
As Babe Shongwe and I are driving along maybe the bumpiest road I have ever been on, he asks me, "Sisi- would you like to drive?" I respond. " No Babe, like I have said before, I cannot- Peace Corps rules. I cannot drive any vehicles for two years- too dangerous." "But what if I am sick?" He asks. "And I need you to drive me to the doctor?" "Then you don't call me for a ride." He laughs. "OK sisi, you pass the test." "You were testing me?" I ask. "Yes sisi- good job."
The little red jetta stops in front a series of red bricked homes. I look out the window. I see around 50 people sitting under a tree. "OK sisi, let me introduce you to the chief, the inner council, the bucupho, the invudnda." All the important people of a village. "WHAT" I exclaim. We have just arrived to Nkiligi, I have not even met my family. It's day one. But he tells me today I am fortunate- there is a big meeting today amongst the inner council and the chief and everyone will be here to meet me. The bucopho, an important figure in the inner council, approaches me. "Are you comfortable speaking to a large group of people? Introducing yourself, explaining why you are here and what you plan on doing?" I tell him with confidence, "Yes, and I can even do it in Siswati." Im screaming in the inside.
I sit with the people, under a tree, as Babe Shongwe introduces me in Siswati. Occasionally the audience will look at me smiling and laughing. I have no idea what he is telling them. I hear him go on, "fjkdfjkdjfkdjf TSANDZA dfjkdjfdkfj". Tsandza- meaning love. A gogo leans over to me and whispers, "He is telling them not to propose love to you. That you are too busy and too expensive. He is warning us it is not polite to ask if you are married." He looks down at me smiling, extends his arm out, "OK sisi- your turn." I whisper, "Thanks for stealing my introduction man."
Afterwards, Babe takes me to meet the chief. How will I know which one is the chief? I remember asking the same question to a family friend of mine in the States. A veternarian who is coinincidentally here in Africa for the same two years I am. In Uganda, Rwanda, and the Congo she is studying mountain gorillas. Before she left, she told me before she could work on these gorillas she had to find the head mountain gorilla, submit, and in a way, ask his permission to come into his community and work with his gorillas. "How will you know which one is the head one?" I asked. She replied, "Oh you'll know."
On a bench under a tree- a man, I am guessing, in his mid 50's sits before a dozen people seated on the ground. They speak to him, head down, they raise their hands, they thank him repeadtly as he listens to their problems. I know, this is the chief. Before sitting amongst the others Babe leans in and whispers to me, "Are you scared sisi?" "No Babe, I got this." I am screaming in the inside. It is now Babe's turn to introduce me to the chief. The chief listens, he does not look at me. Then he responds in a very low calm voice. In fact- not once has he really spoken over a whisper. He almost looks and sounds like the God Father. As Babe Shongwe is rambling on about how.. awesome I am- in Siswati, ADD grabs a hold and I start to focuse on a rooster going to town on a chicken behind Swazi God Father. The idea of sex in the "animal" world is rape in ours. How strange. How can this be beneficial for evolution? This rooster spent almost twenty minutes chasing this poor chicken around. Why not give the hen a clitoris? Less work for the rooster... life becomes so much easier. It's a win win. Wait, does a chicken have a clitoris? I mean I've never really asked or thought about it... I wonder.... "Sisi....sisi....sisi. Your turn." I snap out of it and introduce myself in the little Siswati I know...again. Silence follows.
The chief looks down at the groud- he's choosing his words carefully. Im fearing he knows no English. But then he looks directly at me and says/whispers, " We thank you for coming here and helping us. Swaziland is in trouble. We are at war here. An invisibile battle. AIDS is fighting us." He looks off into the distance. "You and your people are like soldiers. Here to help us. Our youth is wreckless. They are destoying themselves and others. We need someone with a new voice- a new perspective to talk to them. They are not listening to us. We thank you, we hope you can help us." Hands up, head down- I thank him. I could have remained silent with only a thank you to give- but instead I wanted a dialogue a conversation with this man. I continue on. I explain what I've observed over the past 8 weeks. I explain the youth knows more about HIV/AIDS than I do. That my job is to not only to educate but to motivate. I want the youth excited about life. I told him my job was to learn from him to learn from Nkiligi for the next three months. And somewhere someday, together we can start to open some minds. He responds, "Yes Simphiwe- I think you are a gift. (simphiwe literally meaning "a gift from God"). I think you shall keep your name at your new home." A sigh of relief. PCT's have all become attached to their new Swazi names our training families had given us, but we were warned our new families would want to rename us.
He asks me to get up and walk with him- leaving Babe Shongwe for a bit. Babe waves and whispers to me, "He will ask you to be his wife." He laughs. Chief asks me where in America I am from. In Africa I am from Washington- Africa does not know Indiana. They know Washington. I tell him Washington. He tells me he went to a University, Vincennes, in Indiana. He tells me he has two children living in Gary, Indiana.
He asks me if I know Indiana.
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