Breaking the Commitment or Where Ever You Go – There You Are

In my final blog post about the Peace Corps I will explain as best I can my decision to leave early. Thank you everyone who supported me as I tilted windmills in Botswana.

Windmills (Photo credit: mcdlttx)

Leaving the Peace Corps early was the hardest decision I’ve ever made. It was a choice between two very personal values in conflict with one another. Sounds simple now. At the time I struggled to understand it. I still struggle to explain it.

It was a choice between keeping my word and acting with integrity. Would my integrity suffer if I didn’t keep my word? (There’s a circular argument for you.) There were many layers of dissatisfaction and several issues I tried to overcome. I might have been able to work through the issues if I had seen the value in my projects. With little guidance and less support on a local level, I fell into projects that while useful to some were not supporting the fight against HIV/AIDS in Botswana, our mission.

Immediately after an incident that would become the final straw, I was traveling to another village to work with a fellow Volunteer and his organization. It was a three hour bus ride. I joked to a friend via text message that perhaps I should have packed more food and water since it felt like the three hour boat ride that landed on what would become Gilligan’s Island. I would of course be Mary Ann. Shortly after that text was sent, the bus broke down in the middle of nowhere. No one knew when a replacement bus might appear. The outside temperature was over 100⁰. The only thing I wanted to do less than ride a bus in Botswana was to hitch hike. But there I was on the side of the road with my umbrella for shade waving down cars with my fellow passengers. I laughed at the irony of it all. It was the first joke I had told and the first time I was able to laugh at myself since I had arrived in country.

I had lost my sense of humor. Without that I had no coping mechanism for the inane things that happened on a regular basis. No wonder I was struggling. That’s when I knew something dramatic had to change. I thought about it and actually figured out a way to stay in Botswana and work with an organization that would benefit many people, use my skills and would provide the environment I was looking for.

A map of Botswana. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

In the end, it wasn’t enough to overcome my personal belief that, for the most part, we were not accomplishing the goals we were sent to work on in Botswana. I also have serious concerns about how volunteers are trained, placed and sent out to find their own projects. Putting 150 people on the ground to find relevant projects is the “spray and pray” approach to getting work done. A few will do great things and hit the target. Many will be within range of the target, doing good things and changing lives. Many others will miss it completely. In Botswana that could literally mean wandering around in the dessert looking for an oasis. Is it enough to focus on Peace Corps cultural exchange objectives? Maybe it was in the last century. Not for me, not at this point in my life.

This was the source of my conflict. Do I keep my word, stay and continue to do work I don’t believe is hitting the target? Do I spend another 20 months miserable every day? Or do I trust my inner voice that was screaming at me, “Is today the day I go home? There are people at home who need help, want help and will accept help.”

I learned a long ago to trust my gut when it comes to the big decisions in life. I haven’t totally figured out the future. I must live with myself and the decisions I have made. And so I broke my word; it was not any easy decision. It was the hardest decision I have ever made. It is the one that I can live with.

And so I close that chapter of my life and turn the page on a new one. I doubt there will be a blog about it. Although I lead an interesting life, it’s not that interesting. I am settling down in Lexington, KY to be near some of my family and start fresh. It’s beautiful here. I will have a guest room and hope to see you soon. Until then…See you in the funny papers…

My welcoming committee. There’s no place like home.

Life After Botswana

You can’t see the forest for the trees.

Forest (Photo credit: Moyan_Brenn)

Since I returned to the United States I have received many different reactions.  What? Why? Huh! Wow! are just a few.

Yes, I am glad I went. Joining the Peace Corps was something I had wanted to do for decades. The application process helped me make some important decisions about my life. Yes, I’m glad I sold my house. I have no idea where I might land. If I do end up in the same area it will be by choice not because I own property there. What’s next? I’m still trying to figure that out. But I find the unknown easier than the unpleasant.

The decision to leave did not happen quickly and was made after much deliberation. The signs were there early on – during training. To give it a fair chance, I thought it was important to go to my assigned community and dig in. The longer I was there the clearer it became a matter of when, not if, I would return early. It was evident even to me in my words and actions.

Kalahari (Photo credit: EvaUppsala)

You can’t see the forest for the trees.  It sometimes takes a whack on the side of the head to see the forest. What happened is not as important as the realization that I had lost the joyful part of my soul. I’m no comedian, but my sense of humor is my defense mechanism to get through life. I’d lost it somewhere on the journey. Without it I was lost in the desert (the Kalahari Desert to be exact.) Once I decided to return home it was like magic. I was smiling for the first time in a long while. I was even making jokes in my text messages. If you could see my texting skills you might say they were a joke.

I met some incredible people on my journey and saw some amazing sights. I applaud my Peace Corps family for their endurance and heart. With the support of my stateside family and friends I face the future clueless on where this path is leading me, lost in the forest. With their support and the ability to laugh at myself I am certain that I will emerge on the other side exactly where I am supposed to be.

Happy Holidays!

Not So Typical Days and ET Go Home

This is actually a double post.  The first part is about experiences outside my normal routine in Maun, my home village.  The second is about my decision to ET and go home.

Daily life in Maun did not always give me the feeling of being in Africa or in the Peace Corps. But within two weeks I experienced the following “PC Volunteer in Africa” moments.

1) Ex-pats in Maun like to have Peace Corps Volunteers house sit and or pet sit when they are away.  While housesitting I watched the two Rottweilers on the property take down a goat by the throat and hover over it until dead. Slaughtering animals is normal here. Watching two dogs do it was rather upsetting for both me and the goat. I called a friend who came and took the dead goat away. End of story.

2) Sleeping under mosquito netting. It kept the annoying insects at bay.

3) Riding the bus to another village to visit and work with another PC Volunteer was new for me. What makes this an African experience is the bus itself with no air conditioning or toilet and the food vendors on board trying to sell their wares. This was a 3-hour bus ride. I jokingly sent a text to a friend that the boat ride to Gillian’s Island was a 3-hour tour and perhaps I should have packed more food and water. We were about 26 Km from my destination when the bus broke down. It was over 100⁰ outside and hotter in the bus. With no clue when the next bus would come by and finish the journey I took my bags off the bus and hitched a ride into the village of my destination. My first hitch on the “highway.” I would hitch around town, but that is different.

4) Staying in a smaller village was very African. The homes, shopping, amenities were all so sparse. I’m used to having access to pretty much anything I wanted. I’m used to seeing people who look and sound like me wherever I go. I blend in. In this small village I was quite noticeable and a curiosity to the locals. It’s like living in a fish bowl.

5) Hitching all the way on the return to my home village was new. Jeff, the PCV I was visiting, and I started out together but eventually would go in opposite directions. The first hitch would take him to his destination for the day but only about half way to mine. The gods were smiling on me and the first car headed in my direction after we split up stopped and took me all the way to my house. Not bad for my first long-distance hitch. Not sure I will make this a regular habit. But I have faced my fear of hitching and come out better for it. (I also knew there was a bus going in my direction that I could get on if hitching was unsuccessful.)

6) Riding the 10- hour bus from Maun to Gabarone. I hoped I would not have to do it. But the only way to get all of the PC paraphernalia back to them was to take the bus. Fire extinguishers are frowned upon by airlines. I’m putting this item on my bucket list just so I can check it off. And honestly it wasn’t so bad. Fortunately it was an overcast day and not as hot as it could have been. I had a window seat and managed to keep the seat next to me filled with my backpack rather than a warm body for about 85% of the trip.

ET – Go Home

ET in Peace Corps means early termination and you go home without a lot of fanfare.
After months of struggling to understand “Why am I here?” and then “Why am I still here?” I was never able to find a satisfactory answer. And so it is with mixed emotions that I decided to ET and Go Home.

Why? A complicated question with many layers of explanation. But in the end I had to listen to my gut. It is always right. I do not want to spend another 20 months asking myself, “Why am I still here?”

What’s next? I’m clueless on that issue. But I am homeless and unemployed once again. So if you have any ideas, please share them with me.

Things I’ve learned about myself, or maybe just confirmed.

1. As much as I like change and moving, I really am a home body. It was such a joy to learn there would be a house for me. It was great to move in and put things in place. With photos and cards out on display, it began to feel like home.

2. I knew I favored small towns over large cities. So I was glad to be in a village of 60,000 that has shopping, restaurants, taxis and an airport. Being in a remote village might have provided a more authentic experience of the Africa we all envision. But my Peace Corps experience will be just perfect for me. I don’t believe you have to suffer to do good in the world. (What makes this a village is that the animals are free to roam around wherever they want. Towns and cities have laws that prohibit that.)

3. I don’t miss television, much. It was a diversion, a voice in the room. It would be nice to have an idea of what the weather will be for the day. But typically it is sunny with a chance of more sun. We’ve had one cloudy day so far. They say there is a rainy season. Without television or radio I have no idea what is going on in the world. Basically I live in a bubble and like it that way. I could keep updated on the news when I’m on the Internet, but life is good in the bubble, why spoil it.

4. I can live without good chocolate. Who knew it could be done? Don’t get me wrong, it’s a treat to have chocolate and a brownie will still make me salivate. However, life goes on without it.

5. Old habits die hard and new ones come slowly – I’m still a morning person.

6. I prefer to eat foods that remind me of home. Can’t say I’ve acquired a taste for the local food.

7. I miss the up close and personal support of family and friends.

8. There really is “no place like home.”

Things I Didn’t Think About in the U.S.

NOTE:  the photos inserted into this blog have nothing to do with the content of the blog.  But people have requested more photos of me.  So they are just eye candy…

Buying electricity. Here we prepay and program our meters with a special code. Then you watch it count backwards as you use kilowatts. Yes, I do have hot water. But running the geezer (hot water heater outside of the house) takes lots of kilowatts. So I run it for about half an hour before I want to take a bath then coordinate dish washing and other hot water activities around that. They tell me that in summer I won’t have to use the geezer because the temperature outside will be hot enough to keep the water warm. The meter will move a little more slowly.

Taking off for a weekend on the Okavango Delta.  Really expensive air time.

Buying airtime. Cell phone time is prepaid as well. You can buy it from street vendors, stores and tuck shops. You don’t want to run out of airtime. Text messaging is the way most people communicate. It is rare to actually talk on the phone.

How much groceries weigh. Generally when I leave the house in the morning I have three bags slung over my shoulder: my handbag, my laptop and a small backpack with water, an umbrella, lunch, etc. In an effort to make the most out of every walk home, I might stop by the grocery and pick up a few items. They will be in two additional bags also slung over my shoulders. Balancing the weight between the two is the secret. And then I start the 30 minute walk home. Bag Lady would be a fair description.

It’s pretty, but don’t drink this water right from the river.

Drinking water. This applies to both the quality and the amount of water. When in doubt, I buy, filter or boil the water. This will avoid certain maladies better left unsaid. I was conscious of how much water I drank in the U.S., but it is even more important here because of the heat. It doesn’t take long to get dehydrated.

Sand. Sand is something I would expect to find on a beach in the U.S. Here the question is, how deep? The top soil is sand. There is no getting away from it. Peace Corps Volunteers are not allowed to drive unless on official leave (vacation.) So we walk a lot. When possible, I opt to take more steps to stay on the tarred roads or shallow sand than to walk in deep sand and cut corners. Some days I have to empty my shoes several times. It gives new meaning to “feel the sand between your toes.”

A Typical Day

People have asked me, “What is a typical day like?” I have had a difficult time answering that because I suspect they think it is very different from my life in the U.S. Truthfully it’s very similar. I will highlight the differences. So here goes…

An alternative waste management system.

Who you looking at?

I get up, do some yoga and take a bath instead of a shower. Then I dress, have breakfast and get myself ready to leave for work. I walk to work; we are only allowed to drive if on official leave. I pass stray dogs, cows, chickens and donkeys while on the gravel road, which looks a lot like sand that is packed down. Once I reach the tarred road (paved road) children greet me with “lekgoa” or “5 pula.” The first is a derogatory word for “white person” and

the second is a request for money. Iignore them both. I try practicing my Setswana greetings with adults along the way but people often respond in English. That’s probably a good thing since I can’t go too much farther than that.

I am usually working in an air conditioned office with internet access and a very good printer. Occasionally I have meetings out of the office and rely on a driver or taxi to take me where I need to go. I work with several NGOs (non-government organizations) instead of one organization. I will write about some of them in another post.

Since the Peace Corps is in Botswana to assist with the HIV/AIDS crisis, I spend a lot more time talking to people I hardly know about anatomy, sex, condoms and topics like safe male circumcision or multiple concurrent partners or transactional sex. I can’t wait to hold a class on the proper way to use a condom.

I walk by the mall (strip center) on the way home and pick up any groceries I might need or want. Now that it is getting hot I change clothes and wash the ones I just took off. It is much easier to wash a couple of items at time than wait for it to pile up at the end of the week. I play computer games while having a beer with dinner. The evening ends with a book on my Nook or a movie or TV show down loaded to my computer.

Mosquito season is coming on so I will be swatting and swearing at insects real soon. Occasionally I entertain visitors from other villages who come to my home village to grocery shop and enjoy the amenities we enjoy every day (lattes and adult beverages.)

I’m not cooking much these days; my propane gas stove has a leak. It is loaned to me by the Botswana government and they say they will replace it with an electric stove. Like the bureaucracy at home, the wheels of change turn slowly. Meanwhile I am cooking on a two-burner hotplate.

Every day I ask myself, “Why am I here?” Yes that is the same as in the U.S. Then I remember that if I wasn’t here I would have to look for a real job somewhere else.

It’s not an exotic life. It’s not a hard life. The hardest part is knowing what I am missing at home. “Why am I here?” I’m not sure I can answer that yet. I have twenty-one more months to sort it out. Till then it is life as usual.

New mailing address

Future mailings should go to: NCONGO, Attention Mary Sue Barry, Box 1995, Maun, Botswana. Not to worry if something is in the mail. I will still get it. This post office is closer and walkable.

First Game Drive

Most days are similar to my days in the U.S.  I get up, go to work and come home to fix dinner, go to bed. Then start over the next day.  A friend and co-worker took me and some PC volunteers on a game drive Saturday.  I knew I was in Africa when I saw…

 

Elephants crossing the road.

A “stand” of giraffe.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A warthog on the run.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A herd of impala.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

We also saw a honey badger, secretary bird, mongoose, and a few other species. No big cats on this trip.   Guess I’ll have to go back.

Home Sweet Home

Here are a few pictures of my home in Africa which I have named The Mogolo Lodge – where age is a state of mind. (Mogolo means old. I would be referred to as a masadi mogolo – old woman).  I am on a large plot that has several rentals, two more just like mine under construction, the landlady’s home and a beautiful gazebo next to it (for her use.)

It is a two bedroom home with a tin roof. As you can see the guest room is empty and waiting for visitors. There is futon in the sitting room that is quite comfortable. All are welcome, just give me a day or two notice.

Home Sweet Home Botswana

Sitting Room / Dining Room

Kitchen with gas stove. The tank is outside. I reach through the window to turn it on and off.  Notice the bricks holding up the sink.

Kitchen storage unit. Yes all of my gadgets, pots, pans and food fit into it. And this is all of the counter top in the kitchen. But it works well and serves the purpose.

My room. Still need to hang the mosquito net.

Guest room – needs guests.

The bathing room is separate from the WC (water closet). I have running hot water and a shower head.

Forward Momentum

Stepping Up to the Plate

It’s official. On June 12th 46 stalwart volunteers were sworn into service at a formal ceremony. A former President of Botswana was the most prestigious dignitary on a stage of over 20 people. Each of the nine speakers on the agenda recognized each dignitary by name and title. This protocol probably accounted for 25% of the event. Some things are very formal here.

The U.S. Ambassador, Michelle Gavin, administered the oath. Three amazing women fromour class each spoke to the crowd in local languages. I can barely get past hello, which I knew before I left the USA. But I decided weeks ago there is no crying over Setswana and so no whining about it here.

Now each of us must step up to the plate and complete a two month-long community assessment to determine priority projects to work on during our service.

On the Road Again

The day after swearing-in another volunteer and I loaded our stuff in the back of a truck for a 9 hour road trip to Maun, our new home. The most notable part of the trip was the dozens of ostrich we saw along the road. Our driver was like a machine. He moved along at a rapid pace, eyes glued to the road on the lookout for critters crossing and then he would slow down to avoid a collision. We saw the usual cows, donkeys and goats as well.

We made it safe and sound. The only surprise for me was that my house wasn’t ready for me to move in. So I am in a temporary apartment until someone decides if and when I move out. It is comfortable and convenient so I am flying under the radar for now.

Walk a Kilometer in My Shoes

As Peace Corps Volunteers we are not allowed to drive unless on official leave (vacation). Maun does have a lot of “tarred roads” and hundreds of taxis but it can get a bit pricey on a Volunteer allowance. So when possible, one walks. That is one walks to the grocery store and carries the groceries home. One walks to work. One walks from this appointment to that one. I have no idea how many kilometers I walk in a day and probably don’t want to know. I will have to work very hard to keep up this level of activity when I return to the States.

Despite the number of tarred roads, once they end the roads are sandy; so much sand and no beach to be found. In Kanye the soil was red. In Maun it is grey. As you can see by my shoes, cleaning and polishing them is a daily task. People here take great pride in their appearance so one must keep up with it. Shoes don’t last long here either as walking in sand is like taking sand paper to the bottom of your shoes.  So I am going to be that Peace Corps Volunteer who wears hiking shoes unless protocol dictates otherwise.

And that is the news from Botswana.