Sep

Today, my first day at the junior secondary school here in the village, lived up to all my imaginings of what Africa and my job here would be like. My situation is lovely. The strike was suspended, maybe permanently, so we all swore in, said bittersweet goodbyes, and scattered off to our various sites. I’m situated in a village in Mpumalanga, not far from the training college or a few other volunteers. I live with a gogo (grandmother) and her five-year-old granddaughter Senaye (S’na). Imagine me trying to whip Gogo’s four cows into the corral when the whip keeps getting tangled in branches, while the cows stare at me balefully. Or running in the afternoon down the village’s dirt roads, accompanied by eight kids who stand obediently in a line as I lead them in stretches before and after. I basically never thought of myself as a cowgirl or aerobics teacher, but there you are.
I’m also learning patience. When my principal and I visited the village chief, the lackadaisical village atmosphere was as heavy in the air as incense in a chapel. I sat in a chair opposite the chief, who was only distinguished by the animal skin hanging on his chest. The conversation was slower than any I think I’ve ever had! One man would make a comment and my principal would murmur in understanding. Pause. Then he’d answer, gently, usually staring out at the street and berry tree (I don’t know the name) instead of his interlocutor, who would also murmur in agreement while staring at the ground. I’ve picked up enough of South African culture to know roughly how to act: slowly, respectfully, informally. I poured the chief Coca Cola before the others, for example. 
As for the school and my future colleagues, I feel really glad and lucky (like my name, Nhlanhla). I only work at one school, and it seems like everyone knows what I’m there for because there have been Peace Corps volunteers in this village before. I’ll be teaching Grade 7, after I observe the place and do a needs assessment (we’re talking for weeks, not days). I’m supposed to do this before starting projects, and my co-workers are cool with that. They’re also super interested in me, and respectful. I only hope I can live up to the principal’s description of me as “an experienced English teacher.” Wow. I present myself professionally, but I don’t pretend to a lot of classroom teaching. They seem to welcome me for whatever my strengths are, and I was touched by the principal’s introduction of me to the students at assembly. He told them to respect me, and they were clearly impressed by the fact that I’m from America. That’s a typical reaction, and I know they’ll soon be asking if I’ve met Will Smith, Shakira, and Biance! Did I even spell Shakira right? I guess I’ll have to say no. 
I miss my PST host family though (Lina, etc.) Busi and I wrote a play that we performed with Kgomotso and Shirley, a couple of others, and some fellow volunteers. We actually brought it to the Ndebele College when the families visited for a farewell braai. I really grew close to my family there and I plan on visiting them a lot. The Peace Corps wants me to stay at site for the next three months though. And I’m already integrating myself into this community. My isiNdebele’s really good, if I do say so myself, so that helps! Even though this house is really big (there are actually two houses on the property, a huge kitchen with an electric stove, a flush toilet and even a washing machine) the village atmosphere is here waiting for me and the people are welcoming. It’ll be hard to be away from the other PCVs, maybe, but I’ll meet up with the ones who live nearby. In the meantime, the kids are great and the faculty and I are developing a great rapport, I’m feeling confident that I do have something to offer the school. Maybe we can have a play-writing club! That’s a good way of teaching English to seventh-graders and it aligns with the national curriculum standards . . . we’ll see!
Love, Nhlanhla