2012

Here’s to the start of my first year in Africa!  Happy New Year! 

I started the year off right by celebrating with my dear friend and neighbor, Heather.  She shuttled over here from her village, about two hours away, and we spend the last two days holed up in my hut, watching episodes of Glee and eating American candy.  I worried that I might bore her; there’s not much to do in my village.  We downed a few beers at a nearby lodge on New Year’s Eve and barely made it awake by midnight that evening.  We made a big show of slowly dropping a wasabi coated pea to the ground, in honor of the “big ball drop” in New York City. 

Yesterday, we watched a bug crawl its way across my carpet for about 30 minutes.  Heather took my photo with him, too.  For a while, we were genuinely worried about him and his journey.  Where was he going?  How would he get food for energy?  If he crawled up the side of the table and fell, would he die from the impact?  Does he have muscles, and do they get cramped from walking for so long?  I cried from laughing so hard; the things that we do for entertainment these days continually amaze me.

Heather traveled back to her village this morning around 8am.  And so, here I am left alone once again, pondering what I am doing with my life here in Africa, what I am going to cook for dinner tonight, and the price of tea in China.  I’ve already taken a nap, swept the floor (a backbreaking task, actually, with just a small hand broom for the entire room), washed the dishes, done the laundry, eaten lunch, and watered my plants.  I’m still waiting for my “groupies” from the village to come over and harass me.  A group of about 7 or 8 young girls has taken to dropping by a few times every day to ask for food or braid my hair.  I don’t mind, but they are too young to speak any English, so they’re usually just barking orders at me in Sesotho to do a cartwheel or show them my belly button ring.

                Last week, I made a life-long dream of mine come true.  I planted my very own vegetable garden.  I have mustard greens, snap peas, kale, and green beans growing in the yard.  Inside, potted in a cut-up water bottle and an empty coffee can, are lavender and basil.  The basil is already sprouting like mad, and the lavender has a few promising leaves pushing through the dirt.  None of the plants outside have started to sprout, yet.  My host sister came outside to watch while I was pressing the seeds into the dirt. “Do you actually like to do that?”  she asked.

                I’m thrilled that school is starting in just a few weeks.  It’s hard to imagine that last summer, I was nervous to get in front of a classroom and start teaching.  Now, that’s the only thing that I want to do.  Knowing that I’ll be doing that soon is the only thing keeping me here.  Right now, I have TOO much free time.  I’m still not integrated into the village enough yet to have close friends that I can visit.  My school principal is away for winter vacation, and so are most of the teachers.  Many of my neighbors don’t speak English, and my Sesotho can only go so far in a conversation.  I’ve found myself already preoccupied with life after Peace Corps.  I’ve come to find that living the slow life is much easier said than done.