Sunday, June 29, 2014

Mind the Gap


**This was something I wrote for our monthly newsletter thingy "The Swazi Sojournal" or more fondly referred to as "the Sojo". Although some of the stories in here are not new news, I thought it might be nice to share. 

To begin, I’d like to introduce a few phrases that sort of sum up my tactics when approaching projects at site.
1.     Bloom where you are planted
2.     Keep your heart open
3.     Before the beginning of great brilliance, there must be chaos
4.     That is not my responsibility
5.     Master the art of Positive Hijacking
6.     “Be open to outcome, not attached to outcome”
7.     The more you put out into the Universe, the more you’ll get in return

In truth, I could talk about my site all day because I’m not sure I’ve enjoyed working anywhere as much as this.  That is not to say that my experience has been all rainbows and butterflies. I’ve experienced heartache, frustration, disappointment, resentment, beaming pride, and happiness… often all in the same day (and I’m sure I’m not alone here). I’ve also struggled with the notion of sustainability. First, how do I understand it? And second, how do I implement it? So, I offer you a few anecdotes on my experiences here.

I had arrived a few days before the start of the third term, and I was anxious to see where things would go. Using the divine wisdom that people generally love food, I made some chocolate cupcakes and went door to door. Hi, I’m Bongiwe, please take pity on me and be my friend. Much like those sitcoms where neighbors bring over weird jello moulds… minus the weird jello moulds.  Unsurprisingly, it worked. So I happily spent that first week sharing pleasant conversations over cake.  Like they say, conversations are the gateway drug to good working relationships… Yeah, I know… that’s a stretch. BUT, it led me to an essential conclusion: get to know my Head Teacher.[1]

When the first week of school rolled around I approached my Head Teacher and asked if we could have a meeting about expectations, and if she would suggest a good place for me to start.  She didn’t hesitate a moment before stating, “The volunteer always works in the library.” Cue emergency sirens. Danger! Danger! We have a code 5 violation, I repeat, a code 5 violation!  Abort, abort, abort! The red flags were waving like it was the Fourth of July and I was thinking to myself ANGIFUNI, as the keys plunked into my hand. I grinned and bore it for about a week before deciding this was the exact embodiment of what I didn’t want my Peace Corps service to be like: prancing around exuberantly like the good little placeholder they thought I was destined to be. This was not the time for a “When I say jump, you yell ‘How high?!’” reflex. 

While quasi-working in the library was extremely beneficial in strengthening my SSL skills, and getting to know the students, it is unproductive to force a person to work where they have a deflated sense of motivation (and that goes for anyone, not just PCVs). Besides, if life has taught me anything, the solution for the library is forthcoming.[2] There’s a gap, but I’m not the person to fill it.

Where were we?... Right, expectations… Having a clear idea of what I absolutely did not want functioned marvelously as a springboard into discovering where I felt passionate, and feel like the handful of skills I actually have could be put to good use.  So, I spent integration minding the gap: where were the missing links? What work was already being done, and by whom? What areas interested the teachers and what activities could they commit to? What were the biggest challenges my school faced? What was going well? That’s right folks, I did several needs assessments.

Which brings me to the second best thing I [accidentally… stumbled upon… unintentionally] did to build rapport within my school; the Wellness Workshops. 

There was this crazy philosophy running victory laps in my head, but it suited my disinterest in slamming into that wall over and over again, (because you know, it wasn’t a wall made out of chocolate, or ice cream, or pizza). So I took out my trusty PC toolkit (aka my brain before the mefloquin had really sunk in), and decided that the best way to work sustainably within my community was to meet both groups (teachers and students) halfway[3]. It seemed counterproductive to throw my focus solely on the students, if the teachers were not likely to accept the students’ empowerment, or support their development in the fields I wanted to engage in, i.e. leadership, lifeskills, place a PC indicator here.  So, my masterplan was to first test the waters, and see what attitudes the teachers had towards the students, their abilities, and what support they’d be willing to give.

The topic of mental health came up in an early meeting during the start of the third term (only two weeks into my integration), and I timidly mentioned to the head teacher that I knew a bit about mental health and could post information weekly, on say, Wednesdays and have “Wellness Wednesdays”, cute, right? Well, before I could complete my thought process the head teacher exclaimed that posting information wouldn’t ensure anyone has read it, and  “Why don’t you do a twenty-minute workshop every day.” Well, that escalated quickly. This new me was still an unfamiliar being… Will the real Bongiwe please stand up? But I thought it would be a good way to integrate myself, and learn about the people I was working with. So I ended up leading about twenty-five “Wellness Workshops” during that term, which despite the stress, were extremely worthwhile, as they also functioned as daily cross-cultural lessons, as well as letting me into the minds of the teachers, helped me establish support within the school, and simultaneously gave me the platform to slowly introduce ideas.  Additionally, it would later be brought to my attention that the workshops also served as a means through which teachers could have safe discussions on their thoughts and address their concerns for the school, while working to generate possible solutions, which is something I hadn’t even considered. Moreover, it paved the way for creating a school development plan, which has been a critical piece in initiating the projects I am working on. The workshops also functioned as a means through which “volunteer” was redefined. I’ve been struggling with my role within the community, it’s tiresome to feel objectified, and like the ugly duckling, feeling like you belong, while everyone else capitalizes on your differences.  So these past few months, I’ve carved a new meaning for myself through seeing everything as a potential opportunity for collaboration and movement. If you want people to place faith in you, and take a risk, you have to be willing to do the same. 

I’ve done a lot of thinking on sustainability theory, I understand that there’s no one-size-fits-all approach. I think there are certain Dos & Don’ts, however, I am not going to address those here. Yes, my goal was, and remains, to work myself out of my job. However, cave hic dragones… at the core of this ideology is an inherent flaw; we (you, me, cousin Bob… community members) are irreplacable. We find our niche, and fill that gap, which was meant just for us. The ideal of 100% sustainability is just that, ideal. Let’s place sustainability aside for a moment… what do we have left? People. However transient and temporary, when brought together, people have the potential to do what we alone cannot; perpetuate large-scale change and influence this notably unbalanced system. We each have a role that we play in good faith, and we’re lucky when we find it. Maybe you’re the person who rocks that clown costume around your community. Maybe you are a caring listener, or are gifted in saying the right thing to those who need it most. Maybe you introduced Swaziland to No-bake cookies… Regardless, I think there are elements of our work that all-to-easily overshadow the fact that, at the end of the day, we’re people doing what we love. And the same applies to our counterparts, host families and community members. The most detrimental thing I can do to impede progress on something is not taking the time to listen. It’s in those moments that I miss something I may never have a chance to obtain again, respect, trust and understanding.

One of the most formidible aspects of this whole experience has been releasing the notion that things will indefinitely continue, because that’s unrealistic, no matter where you are. So instead, I’ve spent hours discussing other people’s visions, and working to bring them together to create cohesive goals and missions. My sustainability is learning how to fill the gap, to shrink the abyss, limiting the ideas, creativity, motivation and passion that all to often tumbles down there never to be seen again, because the gap was too wide, and no one was paying attention or ready to listen on the other side. 

When I look back years from now on my service, there are several project-related aspects that I know I am going to be proud of, but more importantly, I can feel satisfied in knowing that I met a need only Bongiwe could, and worked to help key players in my community do the same. And now, I challenge all of you to mind the gap.


[1] I took a course in grad school titled “Leadership, Communities and Coalition Building”. A facet of this course that stuck with me the most was the notion of locating the “Target”, as in, understanding who has influence, and who can influence those who have influence. I’m looking at you, Saul Alinsky. Essentially, an important part of understanding a community is being able to identify the key players and assessing who has power and control over certain events people, and resources. (in PC terms this is best identified as “Intential Relationship Building”…) I also fervently believe in transparency and don’t like feeling like I’m sneaking around, unless you know, I’m pretending to be a ninja.
[2] I would like to happily announce that literally a day after writing this I serendipitously met our new librarian. It took some negotiating and maneuvuring, but I’m kind of still in the “pinch me” state of reality, because I can’t believe life right now.
[3] I’ve since grown to realize there are many other groups within my community that need equal voice and inclusion to creating a positive living environment, but this was an excellent starting place.

Thursday, June 5, 2014

I'm at a point where I can't stop smiling...


Whatever doldrums I resided in last term are now completely vacated. I’m feeling a lot more positive about things again, and like March, much of what I wasn’t sure would happen is slowly coming together. I am really excited (and perhaps a tinsy bit overwhelmed) for all of the projects coming up.  I am at a point in my service, and feeling comfortable enough in my community where I feel like the process of bringing the right pieces together to make things happen are becoming second nature. Stealing an observation from another volunteer—I’m realizing that over-planning can be just as detrimental and frustrating as under-planning may be. Sometimes it is really good to dot your Is and cross your Ts, however, I think sometimes it’s equally acceptable to leave a little question hanging in the air and let things fall into place as they will. For example, although the idea has been present since January, I started planning a first aid training for 7 houseparents and 3 teachers last week. The training starts on Monday and is a four-day course. Sure, there was definitely an unavoidable sensation that “this could very well be a disaster”… as much as there was this pleasant sense of bemusement that “this could very well work”.  We’ll see on Monday, but another beautiful thing about not over-planning is your stress levels significantly decrease the less you have at stake. I also don’t feel as much on my own as I did previously, because I know now who to ask for support for certain things.

Sometimes, it’s easy to get preoccupied by the fact that sometimes no matter how much you do, it never feels like enough. When you start thinking that way, you might begin to believe you’re a hero. That you have all the answers are you’re the only one trying to address the issues you perceive. Instead, this term, I wanted to put the joy back into my work, and not house unnessary anxiety on things I honestly could not control, and was not my responsibility.  Focusing on fun has also decreased my stress levels significantly because it doesn’t feel like life and death of something does or doesn’t happen.

I am especially proud of my students.  While I do have an incredible amount of support from the teachers, my students never cease to surprise me. School let out early this past Wednesday, and due to a public holiday, there was no school on Thursday or Friday. I was a little disgruntled about this, and sort of let myself get frustrated. I felt like I needed to fill the time-gap… but how? So I thought, why not do some drama activities in the hall. I approached the older students and presented them a pretty intense task: help me. I think my panic and frustrated expression made them pity me, and they quickly took charge (to illustrate… it was me and the WHOLE school. ME. Just ME.) They took several groups of students and trained them in dramas and then after they put on a show. I thought we could do something similar again on Friday, so I asked the same students if they’d be interested in taking a group of students and doing dramas again. They accepted, but not only that, they gave it 110%.  They took maybe 40 or so students, and broke them into 11 groups… dances (traditional and modern—holla at cha Michael Jackson impersonation), comedies, stories, miming… you name it. I think one of the things that a language barrier (although it is ever closing), can benefit you with, is the fact that it’s more challenging to give percise directions… meaning there’s room for interpretation, and that’s where creativity is born. 

I got a little ahead of myself. After discussing the plan for Friday with the students who were “coaching” the other students, I retired to my house for the afternoon (or so I thought).  I hear the lunch bell and the sound of hungry children moving towards the cafeteria. I sit on my couch, contemplate a nap, and what to have for lunch. *knock knock knock* Hmmm. I think to myself. Maybe they want the library key. *internal grumblings* I open the door. Before I can say anything, Scarlet tells me that James wants to have drama practice now. Did I miscommunicate? What did we actually decide? I clarified. Now. Drama now? *Yebo* Well, I appreciate their motivation… Head to the Hall to varify what I’m seeing. There really is no time like the present. We then spent two hours “rehearsing” in the hall, preparing for the show to be held the next day. It was really neat to see the energy and creativity the students put into their performances—the themes and ideas they crafted into each activity.  Later, Charlie came over to me with a notebook. He has created a program for the drama show, with very creative titles. I am really impressed by the leadership he’s been showing and how caring and thoughtful he is towards the other students. I feel like he’s grown a lot in these past few months, and I’m really proud of him. 

I am also just proud to be a part of this community