Hey guys! So a lot of you have been super awesome and have sent me packages. I totally appreciate everything sent, but at the same time I only have 8 more months and some things just are not needed any more. Many have asked what I do need during my last few months so I updated my wants/need page on my blog. Thanks again for all the support and love you guys send. I couldn't have survived here as well as I did (am still) without it!!!
Sunday, October 28, 2012
English Class Goes All Game of Thrones
October 16th, 2012
Last week for my English class at the refugee camp the
homework was to write the ending to the story that we had been working with for
the last couple of weeks. My
students were split into groups and they had to write the ending to the story
“The Lady and The Tiger,” which incidentally isn’t about a tiger at all.
To sum the story up there is a Princess who falls in love
with a soldier. Her Father finds
out and captures the solider as his prisoner. The punishment for prisoners in this realm is that they must
stand before everyone and choose to open one of two doors that stand side by
side. Depending on which he
chooses, decides his fate and his innocence. One door has the loveliest lady in the realm whom he will
marry if he opens her door, the other has a ferocious lion that will kill the
soldier if he opens it’s door. If
he opens the Lady’s door he is innocent and lives, if he chooses the Lion he is
guilty and will die. Right before
choosing a door he looks to the Princess and begs with his eyes for her to tell
him which door to open. She
decides and tells him to open the right door. The solider approaches slowly and opens the right door…
My students came up with really great endings. They were very creative and every one
had its own twist. I was greatly
amused, especially since I am currently deeply entrenched in the Seven Kingdoms
of the Game of Thrones books. My
students could give George R.R. Martin a run for his money. So here are the endings for your
enjoyment. I am writing them
exactly as my students did so sorry for the broken English.
Group One:
He was surprised to find the loveliest women inside and he
was happy to survive the Lion’s teeth.
As the crowd clapping hands for his innocence, his heart turns to the
princess who he loved much.
Happiness of the crowd made the King go with the Princess to
congratulate the soldier. When
they reach there the Princess throws herself where there was the Lion. The Soldier saved her and killed the
Lion. As reward given to him by
the King for saving his daughter, the young soldier married the princess
immediately. The Kind decided not
to punish his people in that way.
Group Two:
And guess what happened next, there was a very beautiful young
woman inside the room the soldier had opened. The King was not happy for that. This is because the King himself wanted the Soldier dead,
due to the fact that the Soldier was in love with his daughter, who he
treasured so much. The King
ordered his subjects to arrange the wedding of the young Soldier and the
loveliest women. The King had no
other option because what had happened at the soldier’s trial. And also the King thought that maybe by
letting the Soldier marry this very beautiful lady in the whole community would
made him forget about his daughter.
The young soldier did not stop loving the daughter of the King, this is
because they loved each other very much.
The King’s daughter started meeting the young Soldier behind the door,
as in secretly without the King’s knowledge. Just imagine what happened next, the Soldier impregnated the
King’s daughter and as a result the King come to know about it. The King did not like at all what had
happened, but he did not have another alternative apart from letting his
daughter marry the Soldier, and then after she become the second wife of the
young Soldier.
Group Three:
He opened the door, he peeped and saw the most beautiful
woman. They became husband and
wife. The Princess was
disappointed, she cried and sobbed.
The King pledged to the young Soldier to marry his daughter. The young Soldier agreed because
polygamy was common and usual.
After not so long the King died.
People liked the young Soldier so they swore him to be a new King.
Group Four: (this one I don’t have a copy of so I am
rephrasing what I remember)
The soldier opened the door to find the Lion. The Lion chased him and attacked
him. The Soldier fell to the
ground and tired to reach for a rock to hit the Lion with, but he couldn’t find
one. The Soldier was eventually
killed and eaten by the Lion. It continued on but I can't remember what happened next.
GLOW
October 21st, 2012
Hey Everyone!
The purpose of this blog post is to tell you about an
exciting project that I am working on and to offer you an opportunity to help
if you can.
The project is a gender empowerment effort known as Project GLOW (Girls Leading Our World).
This will be the second year of GLOW’s existence in Swaziland and its premier
activity will be a five day leadership camp for teenage girls scheduled for the
April school vacation. Through a Peace Corps Partnership Program (PCPP),
partial funds are available to support the camp, however it is the role of
those of us who will design and lead the camp to obtain matching funds from
friends and family back home.
Camp GLOW’s purpose is to provide a safe and supportive
environment for girls where they can receive information and training in the
areas of leadership, female health issues, self-discovery and career planning.
The camp will nurture exploration of personalities, individual talents and will
fortify the resolve of young woman to break out of stereotypes and behaviors
that hinder their success and happiness. Girls that attend Camp GLOW will be
expected to return to their schools and communities and initiate GLOW Clubs and
to share the information and skills that they have acquired.
Because the U.S. dollar goes a long way over here no
donation is too small. Your contribution will go directly to Camp GLOW and will
most likely be applied to providing meals for the campers and for providing
transportation to and from the camp location.
There are several ways you can donate but online is the easiest. If you want to donate but by check rather then online please email me at Bethany.leech@hotmail.com and I can send you directions on how to donate and the form you need to do so!
Monetary Donations:
Online: this is
the easiest way.
1.
Go to the following website:https://donate.peacecorps.gov/index.cfm?shell=donate.contribute.donatenow
2. Find Swaziland Camp GLOW Project. Click on project name “Camp GLOW”.
3. Add donation amount in the “donation” box provided on the right of the page.
4. Submit personal information.
5. Confirm information.
All in kind donations should be mailed to the following name and address:
Clerisse Lemke, PCV
P.O. Box 2797
Mbabane, H100
Swaziland, AFRICA
Please
specify on a piece of paper inside the box that the items are for Camp GLOW.|
Toiletries:
Deodorant
Shampoo/Conditioner
Soap
Toothpaste
Toothbrush
*Feminine Sanitary Products (See note below)
|
Arts and Crafts:
Paper
Markers
Crayons
Colored Pencils
Stickers
Scissors
Glue
Necklace/bracelet how-to
packets
|
Sports:
Soccer ball
Jump rope
Air pump
Dodge ball
|
|
Sweets:
Chocolate
Candy
Smores
Gum
|
Games:
Card games
Board games
Sudoku
|
Educational
Materials:
Teen easy-read books
Motivational/Goal Oriented
reading materials
|
|
Clothes:
Jacket/Fleece
Light-weight blanket
|
Other:
Glow sticks
Magazines
Lip stick/Nail polish
|
|
On behalf of all of the GLOW girls, campers and volunteers,
I thank you in advance for anything that you can do to help us empower females
and improve the lives of all who live in this small nation of Swaziland.
English Class at the Refugee Camp… I mean Reception Center
October 9th, 2012
The Camp has a new name I guess. It’s no longer a refugee camp but now it’s a reception
center for refugees. Not sure what
is the exact definition of a reception center or the purpose of a name change,
but we will find out in the next 9 months.
Anyways, our third term teaching English at the… um… center has begun. This makes it sound very formal calling
it third term, as if some higher authority tells us when to start and
stop. Nope we just simply follow
the Swazi school term schedule and its term three currently. However I have to say our classes are
feeling more and more formal and organized as time goes by.
I am teaching the intermediate class again and have all the
same students and guess what, I actually know all their names. Most of my students are from Somalia
and they all have the same 10 names in different combinations, so I was having
a hard time remembering who was who.
For example I have a Hussan and a Hussein, as well as a several students
named Mohamed or Muhamud and one with both those in his name. However, I proved on day the first day
of this term that I had learned. I
was able to call them each by name without a cheat sheet. Last term I made them sit in a seating
arrangement so I had a guide to use to remember their names and this term I am
letting them sit where they want.
Its seems so small but its actually a very big accomplishment for me.
Term three started off great. I lost a few students who decided to return to their home
countries but gained a few who just came into Swaziland. I got my first female student, which is
great! This term we are focusing
on reading comprehension and using children’s stories to practice listening and
understanding English and developing responses to what we hear. So far the students are enjoying the
stories. The stories also
introduce lots of new vocabulary for them to learn and they get to be active in
their learning by choosing what vocabulary words we focus on.
It’s hard to access just how much their English is improving
but we get feedback from our refugee counterparts who co-teach with us. So far the feedback is that the
students are really improving.
Some are learning and using more words, some are improving their grammar
skills, and some have just developed the confidence to practice using what they
know. They say English is being
heard a lot more around the camp and the students are happy to have the
lessons. I’m happy to have
students who are so dedicated! We
have strict rules in our classrooms (or refugee hut which serves as our
classroom) and my students obey them well, they do their homework, they
participate, and they show up on time.
In America we take for granted that when we plan a meeting people
generally show up and show up on time, when we volunteer our service to someone
they are generally more than appreciative and don’t turn around and ask for
more without a thank you, and we usually don’t slap the hand that is willing to
help when what the giver has to offer isn’t exactly what we wanted. These are all challenges I find as a
volunteer in Swaziland. Its just
so nice to know that I have a successful project teaching English to people who
not only work with me, but respect me, and respect themselves enough to make a
difference in their own lives and don’t just expect me to hand them a free
ticket to an easier life.
S & B Party
September 28th, 2012
Feeling the major lack of a normal social life that comes
along with being a PCV, us girls decided we needed a girl’s night in. We decided to have a Stitch and B*#@h
Party. About 15 of us crammed
ourselves into one of the volunteer’s houses and we did just that, plus a whole
lot of eating (pot luck never tasted so good). A whole lot of b*#@^ing was done of course (got to vent to
survive here) and we even managed to get a bit of stitching in as well. I finally learned and hopefully will
now forever remember how to start a knitting project and finish one, I made a
tiny little cell phone case. It
felt like a major accomplishment.
Yarn here is crap and expensive for the quality and of
course I didn’t bring knitting supplies with me to Swaziland but have no fear
we are Peace Corps Creative!
Another PCV came prepared with needles for everyone. How did she get them you ask? Well she simply bought them at the
grocery store. Turns out meat
skewers make fantastic knitting needles!
I have since bought myself a nice package of these knitting needles and
have become a cell phone case-knitting machine. I’ve seriously made cases for almost every electronic item I
own here, and in the process received two slivers – the prices we pay. I look forward to the next S&B
party to learn to make something more advanced – a hat maybe, or a some mitts
to keep me extra toasty here in Africa.
Several of the other PCVs are excellent knitters, so I am eager to learn
from them. This was my first
social event that included PCVs from the new Group 10. It was nice to have some new
faces! They have been at their
sites now for a month. Listening
to where they are at in their service makes me realize just how far I have
come. Their problems, that I also
thought were earth shattering a year ago, seem so minor to me now that I’ve had
a year to figure it out. I have
new problems of course, but I am glad I’ve conquered the problems that clouded
my life a year ago.
Saturday, September 29, 2012
One More Animal on the Homestead
September 22nd, 2012
My homestead grew a little bit bigger this week. We got a new puppy!! One of Addy and Ryan’s dogs on their
homestead had eight puppies two months ago and my Babe agreed to take one. So this week Addy brought over a little
brown and black male puppy that we have named King George.
Befitting his name King George has had quite a nice life so
far getting car from Ryan and Addy.
He is having a rough time transitioning into being a Swazi dog. He of course is smitten with me and
want to be sleep in my hut on my rug at all times but the fact of the matter is
he is not my dog, we are not in America and I can’t raise him like an American
dog. When I leave in year George
needs to be fully self-sufficient.
Swazi dogs are not treated as part of the family. They are rarely fed anything
nutritious, rarely fed on a regular basis, always sleep outside or wherever
they can find shelter, and are all very skittish toward people because people
have beaten them since they were young.
It’s hard at first not to through a fit at the way dogs are treated
here, since we are trained in America that this type of treatment would be
abuse. Swazi are so shocked when I
tell them that in America they would be put in jail for the way they treat
their animals and made to pay a fine.
However, sadly you do get used to seeing emaciated animals covered in
ticks and fleas and that is the norm, sad but true.
Anyways of course I will make sure King George gets fed
daily and I give him some attention every day but its hard to not give him more
when I know that once I leave he will get zero attention. My family at least takes “good” care of
their dogs compared to most. My
Babe actually buys them real dog food and I don’t see them beating the dogs,
but still they are nothing like American dogs.
Anyway it is fun to having something new to wake up to
now. George has learned to escape
his shed that he sleeps in and has become my watchdog. I don’t let him in my hut (fleas are
out of control here) so he sleeps on my steps all day. The other two dogs could care less
about him, but Bear (the cat) thinks he is a great new toy to play with. He is bigger then George for now so
Bear has fun practicing his pouncing at Georges expense. George doesn’t seem to mind, he finds
Bear interesting to.
What’s a puppy cost in Swaziland you may wonder? With the amount of puppies born you
would think free, but nope. One
puppy is worth one chicken, a quick exchange. Addy had the privilege of bringing home the chicken to her
Babe on public transport. How do
you do that you ask? Well its
simple. Tie the chicken’s legs
together. Take a plastic bag and
poke a hole in the side. Stick the
chicken’s head in the hole and the body in the bag. Then tie the bag and carry. Simple.
Our homestead now consists of 11 people, around 15 cows,
around 25 goats, three dogs, one cat, two turkeys, an uncountable number of
chickens, and a flock of 20 guinea fowl that seem to find our fields a better
place to feed then wherever their homestead is. I wish they would go home, the only sound worse then a
rooster waking you at dawn is the sound of guinea fowl outside your window at
dawn.
Wednesday, September 19, 2012
Beauty Dvube: 1918-2012
September 16th, 2012
Beauty Dvube was my Gogo, or grandmother. She was my Babe’s mother, which made
her the matriarch of the giant Dube family (I don’t know why her name is
spelled with a v and mine is not).
At the time of her death she left behind 4 living children, 41
grandchildren, 58 great-grand children, and 3 great great-grandchildren. She was 94, amazing right!?! Her homestead is in my community, but
she would come and stay on my homestead every once in awhile when her health
was troubling her. She came to us
about a month ago needing care. In
the end of August she suffered a small stroke leaving one side partially
nonfunctional. Complications of
this eventually lead to her death about two weeks later. She was in the hospital right after the
stroke, but fortunately was released and was able to enjoy her last few days at
her home.
I always liked this Gogo. She was feisty.
The first time I met her she said to me in siSwati that she “liked to
speak English, but knew very little.”
I gave her a smile and said “I like to speak siSwati, but also know very
little.” Our conversation never
circum passed the basic greetings, except for once. I was walking back from the pit latrine one day last summer
and passed Gogo sitting on a grass mat outside. We greeted each other as usual and then with such passion
she proclaimed in English “It’s Hot!” I just cracked up because I totally
didn’t expect such a profound outburst and was overjoyed that this was the one
response in siSwati I had totally mastered: I replied “Yebo Gogo, kuyashisa
kakhulu!” (Yes gogo, it is very hot!”
We both just laughed together after.
As I’ve mentioned before a Swazi funeral is a multi-day
affair. My family spent the entire
week preparing for the two-day event that included a church service, followed
by an all night-vigil, then a morning burial procession. A giant hand crafted stick and tarp
tent had to be constructed, food had to be bought to feed around 200 people,
arrangements for the burial and church services had to be made, and arranging
just how everyone was getting to Gogo’s homestead for the event was a tricky
process. Finally the weekend came
and everyone and everything was set into motion.
I spent all of Saturday evening baking buns for the funeral
guests with bosisi bami (my host sisters). We baked from 5:00pm-10:30pm. Then we got bundled up for the night. It’s raining again, which is great for
life in general, but bad when you have to spend the entire night outside. It was bitter cold, I had on 2 complete
outfits, plus two jackets, plus a blanket that I oh-so-fashionable wore tied
around my body. I still couldn’t
feel my toes by the end of the night.
I arrived at the night vigil in style via the back of
pick-up – a midnight ride through my community was quite peaceful from the back
of a truck, unfortunately it was cloudy but I can imagine just how amazing the
stars would have looked. I
immediately slipped into the cooking hut as to have as few people see me as
possible. Sadly a year plus here
and my presence still creates a spectacle. I walked into the cooking hut and was greeted by my eldest
sisi who was hacking away with a machete at a hunk of fresh beef hanging from
the thatched roof. She stopped to
greet me and as she stepped away I saw where the hunk of beef came from. An entire cow carcass was on the floor,
the skin was laid out as a protective barrier for the floor and the rest was
being chopped apart by a bhuti (male) with an axe. The only part not dissected yet was the head, which sat off
to the side. Bits of flesh and
blood were splattering the wall and surrounding area so I swiftly walked to the
other side of the room and found something to do. I quickly got swept into the business of preparing a meal
for the 200+ guests that were in attendance. I have to admit I wasn’t much help and was too tired, wet,
and cold to put much effort into making myself useful. I eventually fell asleep on a table and
woke to an almost empty hut, just the cow head, the heart, which was now
hanging from the ceiling, and me.
It was the 3:00am teatime so everyone was out delivering tea
and sandwiches to the guests. I
had no desire to participate and I have to admit that I feel very in the way at
these events since I don’t really know what’s going on. My family is good with trying to make
sure I am ok but they were so busy at this vigil I didn’t want to bother them
with helping me try and help them, if that makes sense, so I just went back to
sleep.
I eventually opted to leave my safe haven for the procession
to the gravesite. It was raining
so I donned my rain jacket and the only visible part of me was my face. I managed to remain hidden until we got
to the gravesite and everyone stopped moving. The walk there was on a treacherous, muddy, flooded dirt
path through the bush. Turns out
thorns can go through rain boots, got one right in my arch trying not to fall
into a mud puddle. I managed to
loose all my family members in the procession so when the service at the
gravesite started I just stood in the crowd and tried to watch. I didn’t know anyone around me and they
were giving me weird stares when they realized I wasn’t a Swazi. I was feeling really alone and just
wanted to cry for Gogo, for my family’s loss, for being wet and cold, for
feeling like an outsider.
Finally I saw Gogo’s Paster whom I met a few weeks ago and
he smiled and waved at me through the crowd. I smiled back and that gave me the strength to not break
down right there. I eventually
decided to leave the crowd and see of I could find any of my family. I didn’t, but I found so many people I
did know; ladies from my family’s church, neighbors, and family friends. I was trying to wedge my way underneath
the single tarp that could fit maybe 1/8 of the people there to avoid the rain. Here I found Gogo’s best friend
Sara. She is probably as old as
Gogo and only has one eye but she remembered me and she waved and gave me a
silent greeting. I greeted her
back with as much sympathy as one can express in a silent exchange and then I
almost lost it. I was so sad for
her – she just lost her best friend.
When I met Sara my Make told me that she was Gogo’s best, best, best
friend. They lived almost their
entire lives across the path from each other and held each other’s deepest
darkest secrets. I could feel the
power of their friendship. Life is
hard here and the courage and strength to get through it may lie simply in the
power of a best friend. It made me
miss my best friends.
I haphazardly made my way back to the homestead with the
crowd. The meal was already
underway with people being served in take-away containers. I didn’t really know what to do now so
I just stood in the rain and watched, eventually making my way back to the
cooking hut where I found my Make and one Sisi. They got me food, which was much, much needed at this
point. I hadn’t eaten since 5pm
the night before and was getting shaky.
After food I attempted to help clean but proved to be useless
again. My brain was not
functioning and I just needed directions to be given to me, and no one was
there to give them so I just stood in the rain that had turned to the slightest
snow flurry I swear (or I was just delirious at this point). I told myself I was just observing and
that was an ok thing to do to. I
watched as dogs snuck into the cooking hut and stole scraps of food and fought
each other for them. I watched the
men pull the giant tarp tent apart.
I watched as a truck got stuck way deep in the mud and a tractor plus
the encouragement of all the men pulled it out. I watched as the kids, despite being half dressed and
barefoot, still managed to play games and laugh. I just sat back and watched Swazi life happen. Eventually I hitched a ride home where
I had to de-thaw my feet in a bucket of hot water and then curled up in bed the
rest of the day.
Rain is Good Thing
September 6th, 2012
“Rain makes corn, corn makes whiskey, whiskey makes by baby
feel a little frisky, back roads are bogging up, my buddies pile up in my
truck, we hunt our honeys down, we take them into town, start washing all our
worries away, rain is a good thing!” – lyrics by Luke Bryan
It hasn’t rained in Swaziland since April. That’s four months where the already
dry dirt has been getting dryer and dryer. It’s been really windy here lately and the dust that gets
blown around is so thick I can barely see past my homestead. Well the strong winds have finally
blown in some rain clouds.
It rained non-stop for four days. I have managed to collect 175 liters of water and now I’m
out of buckets. A mote has formed
around my hut and I’m scared to eventually emerge and try and get anywhere on
the flooded dirt paths, but rain is a good thing. It really does make corn here. Since the ground gets so dry during winter no one can plow
their fields and plant their maize without rain. No maize equals no food for some families, so rain is a
really, really good thing. Here
the maize may not make whiskey, but it does make homebrew beer, a stable at any
social gathering. So here is a
very happy welcome to the rainy season, may it be a long one!!
Mid Service Medical
August 21-23, 2012
The notorious mid-service medical is upon us Group 9
volunteers. This three-day session
with our medical officer is famed for its necessary stool provision. We are required to provide three stool
samples to be tested for everything. Do you know how hard it is to do that on command? And then
get it into a cup? You don’t want
to know if you’ve never had to do it.
Anyways we arrive at our officer in groups of 6-8. Aside from the grueling medical exam
that checks for anything and everything, its also a psychological exam to make
sure our malaria medication hasn’t made as all fall off our rockers and be on
the verge of life crises. Its
brutal, I can say nothing fun about it except for the fact that it was a great
reason to be shut up in our office with some of my fellow PCVs with access to
free WiFi!!! Yet despite the total
access to Google we instead entertained ourselves by over dramatizing passages
from romance novels found in the PCV library and of course talked about our
stool samples. Know fact, PCVs
love to talk about their bowel movements, what exactly their puke looked like,
and why a pee bucket is better then a pit latrine. We have all fully embraced our primitive selves.
Good news, after three days of being poked and prodded, I’m
fairly healthy. A few minor
issues, nothing two gigantic shots in my butt cheeks can’t fix (as if my butt
wasn’t already embarrassed from the amount of pressure I was putting on it
already). Then it was back to
site, where I was promptly sick for two days and actually wanted to talk to
someone about how my stool was.
Such is life haha.
Monday, August 27, 2012
It's Been 15 Months Since I Left Home
August 26th, 2012
This is for all my country music loving friends. I changed the words to the song “Great
Day To Be Alive” by Travis Tritt exactly one year ago. At that time I was in month three of
living in Swaziland and never thought I would see month 15. Well I made it, and this song sums it
all up!
I got rice cooking on
my gas stove,
I got dirty hair I
don’t plan to comb,
And it’s a goofy thing
but I just got to say hey I’m doing all right.
I think I’ll make me
some homemade soup,
Feeling pretty good
and that the truth,
Neither drink nor drug
induced no I’m just doing all right.
And it’s a great day
to be alive; I know the sun still shining when I close my eyes,
There some hard times
in my community, by why can’t everyday have all this beauty!
It’s been 15 months
since I left home,
Said good luck to ever
seed I’d sewn,
Gived it my best and
then I left it alone,
I hope their doing all
right.
Now I look in the
mirror and what do I see,
A different person
then I use to be,
A wiser, tanner
version of me,
Lord I guess I’m doing
all right.
And it’s a great day
to be alive; I know the sun still shining when I close my eyes,
There some hard times
in my community, by why can’t everyday have all this beauty!
Sometimes it’s lonely,
Sometimes it’s only me
and the shadows that fill this room.
Sometimes I’m falling,
desperately calling, looking for something to do-o-o-o-oooo.
Well I might go get me
a night out of site,
see some PCVs and chat
about life,
might even go wild and
stay out all night, Oh…
And it’s a great day
to be alive; I know the sun still shining when I close my eyes,
There some hard times
in my community, by why can’t everyday have all this beauty!
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