"You Can't Take the Nkiliji out of Simphiwe"

10.05.09


Banned from Nkiliji until Peace Corps can escort me back home to get my things on Tuesday. Then,straight to Lukhetseni (Siphofaneni).

So, sipping lattes in Mbabane I must wait.

This is not good enough.

I need the chance to explain to my family- more importantly, Bongiwe, why I'm going. The past week I have been getting phone calls from them- underneath their school desks whispering, "Simphiwe..where are you? When are you coming home?" I need the chance to explain. Tuesday they'll be in school and I'll be unable to talk to them.

Peace Corps allows me to go on Sunday only if I allow them to take me. Despite how ridiculous I believe all this to be- I can't turn down a free ride. Peace Corps picks me up in Manzini.

Driving back, the familiar roads and faces. The cool green valleys, the white haired old man- eyes aged with blue-looming in the doorway of an old building. A washed out coca cola sign painted above. He never fails to wave as I pass. A creek filled with naked children and that scent of warm sweet grass. I can hardly keep still in my seat.

I'm greeted first by my pack- 7 smiling dogs. The black one, they call Baby and my constant shadow, wraps his legs around my thigh. I walk into the house, Baby walking on his hind legs while the front legs are still holding on tight. Make (Ma-gay) is polishing the hallway. She looks up and screams, "Swani! Swani!" (Baby child) I embrace her as she continues to yell, "Swani!" rubbing my breasts for a good minute. Sibonile's daughter runs up to me. Hands on her hips she says in her high pitched voice, "Umgcugcutele". Behind Make (Ma-gay) stands Bongiwe. She hesitates to approach me, turning away when I make eye contact. I pry myself from Make and Baby's grip. I walk over to my sisi, turn her around and hold her tight. Tears streaming down both our faces.

A month ago Bongiwe, Mctosa, and I watched a soccer game. For an hour we listened to Mctosa share all his expressions and idioms in English. Bongiwe's favorites were: "Absence makes the heart grow fonder." Which she would always mess up and ignorantly say "Abstinence makes the heart grow fonder." I'd laugh and tell her both work really. Her other favorite, "I miss you like the cool shade of a tree that has been cut down."

I pull away from Bongiwe's embrace. Hold her her head in my hands and say, "Abstinence makes the heart grow fonder." Which she replied with, "I'll miss you like the cool shade of a tree that's been cut down." "Where's Gigi?" I ask. She points to the kitchen. I walk over to Gigi's bench. As I go to shake her hand, she pulls me in hard. I had no idea she had such strength. She speaks in her low drawn out Siswati to me. Most Swazis don't even understand her speech. With her tight grip and smile I can understand what she's saying."I missed you too Gigi."

Before Peace Corps driver leaves he explains to Babe (Ba-bay) and Make (Ma-gay) what exactly is going on with my move. Once he's gone, Bongiwe (Boe-knee-whey)and I walk to the shop as we always do. Singing a Black Eye Peas song with our little dance stomp walk. I pass miss Jacuranda- dancing along. "Simphiwe you will be so sad. Manzini is jacuranda region. There are very few in Lubombo." Bongiwe tells me. I see Chief ahead. I know it's him by his swaggering walk and beanie leaning to the side- Swazi male youth. He's smiling big. He pulls me in for a hug. "Simphiwe. We will hide you. You cannot go!" He shouts. I tell him Peace Corps is putting a male volunteer in Nkiliji next year. Peace Corps Swaziland Season 8. "You always asked me Chief- to bring over my male friends from Peace Corps. Well, now you'll have one all the time." "No Simphiwe, we want you. What if next year you come back here and he goes to Siphofaneni?"

Ahead, I see Proud African with his closest friend, Dry Man.

"Why do you call him 'Dry Man' Mctosa?" I once asked him. "Because the way he moves. So dry...so stiff. A lazy lazy man. Even his girlfriend says he's lazy in bed." Mctosa laughs.

"UUUUUUUUUUUUUUnjan (sounds like, goo-johhhhhhhhhhn)....Dry Man?" I mock the way Swazi male youth greets.Swazi male hand shake follows, thumbs greet and glide pass each other. I make limited eye contact with Mctosa whom Bongiwe says I should not be hanging around with. Bongiwe, Chief, and I continue to walk pass when Bongiwe stops and turns. In Siswati shes says, "Mctosa! Come by tomorrow- we're reading Lion and the Jewel. We need help." She notices the bewilderment in my eyes. "Mctosa is tutoring my friends and I in our studies- exams are next week. He's really smart you know." "Simphiwe stay away from Mctosa." I believe those were the words you told me. "I didn't want you to be his girlfriend. He's been helping us out a lot." She defends.

Before I go, stressing to family I will be back Tuesday to get my things, I stop by Proud African's to say goodbye. His door is open, but he's not in. I walk in. I run my fingers over the piles of newspapers and books, dust collecting on my fingertips. Pages of notebooks open, his scribblings. New expressions and phrases he's pulled from books. Random sentences hes copied from novels. "I like to play with the words." He once told me of English.

I look up and see him standing in the doorway. Bright blades of sunlight thrust their way around him. Although backlit and unable to see his smile- I can hear it in his voice.
"Unnnnnnnnnnnnjan- Tessa?"
"I told you, you should be a teacher. Teaching Bongiwe and her friends now."
"Ah Nevermind." He replies, always with a flicker of his hand.

He reaches past me to put on a shirt. "The youth" he continues, "They read these novels. But to them- they're just reading words on a page. They aren't understanding the words. Give them Rihanna and Chris Brown- they'll understand they're words. But words in a book- are just words in a book."

I ask Proud African to look after Gigi's walker, Bongiwe's behavior, and the clinic's support group. "I'll be back Tuesday." As I go to leave Mctosa stares hard at me,
"You were safe Simphiwe."
"What?"
"Here. You were safe here."

I return to Mbabane, the backpackers, where other volunteers are here to celebrate a PCV's birthday. Most of the night I stand and stare. I don't connect with anyone. PCV's don't understand, "Where's the Meredith we know?" My heart is heavy, and there's this ever constant lump in my throat. I'm going through a break up with Nkiliji- heart broken. I decide, here and now, I can't just abandon this village. I will do what I can from Lukhetseni. I will help two villages- best I can.

Peace Corps drops you off with a community, the only white in sight. They leave you with a new family, a new name. They tell you, "Integrate. Integrate. Integrate." You become this new village, this new family, this new person. You are someone else. How do I shake off everything I've absorbed in the past three months?

PCV nudges me in my side and says, "I guess Mere. You can take the Simphiwe out of Nkiliji, but you can't take the Nkiliji out of Simphiwe."