So... This is happening

I’d first like to begin with a meme that pretty much encapsulates my work as a PCV.

It dawned on me that meetings (and sometimes decision-making in general) here are sort of like Ent Moots.  It took a long time for me to orientate myself this way, and while Lindiwe was visiting (person to be identified in following paragraphs) it became apparent that I’ve adapted to this meeting style… after her conclusion “that was the worst meeting EVER” led to a relatively bemused response from me… “and I was just thinking…  that meeting went pretty well”…

Moving on…

I’ve been spending a lot of time with the older girls, and thought It’d be good to give some attention to the boys and avoid accusations of favouritism.  To reconcile this, (and with on-point suggestions from the lovely Lindiwe) I thought it’d be fun to make some more boardgames out of cardboard and flipchart paper. And why not do it on a Thursday night (especially given that the new trend is to watch movies on Friday nights). So I approached two of the boys (here-to-fore known as Evan and Charlie—since I’ve given all PCVs their Swazi alias, why not change it up and give “American” names to my Swazi friends) that I know best and mentioned that I thought it would be fun to make boardgames tonight so more people could play, etc. (or so I thought…).  I didn’t really think anything of it as the day continued, as I was busy organizing things, while simultaneously trying to tone down the new level of disgruntledness I strolled into and have been wading through on and off over the past few weeks (my life has been a walking “trigger warning” of late… nine months in, I’m surprised it took this long for things to seem less rosey).

Fast forward a few hours.  Charlie presents me with a sheet of paper, glowing with evident enthusiasm.  It turns out, that I had actually communicated that we should have a checkers tournament that night. And Charlie had taken it upon himself to organize EVERYTHING. *Insert moment of beaming pride here* I recollect asking him to gather names/gauge interest of those who’d enjoy [a checkers tournament] making boardgames. He had gone above and beyond that. Neatly printed on a sleeve of loose-leaf paper was a list of boys and girls’ names, the age group, the time, and location of the event, and he had even gone so far as to find and write the name of an adult who would be responsible… which was NOT me. The amount of initiative he took in planning and organizing (in a matter of hours) was really cool to watch, and see how the event unfolded. Save for the creation of another checkerboard (Shoutout to the incredible colouring skills of Lindiwe), and a bracket (created from the gifted mind of Lindiwe), he pretty much singlehandedly ran a tournament of twenty people. 

(I bet you’re now thinking I made Lindiwe my slave for two weeks… That is probably an accurate summation. Apologies in retrospect Ms. Dlamini!).

It’s hard to explain why this seems so remarkable or noteworthy, but the fact is, one of my biggest goals/ideas for the school is to provide more opportunities for students to feel like they have room to organize and implement things that they find interest in (the word I'm looking for here is empowered). To encourage them to follow through and feel supported in the activities and events they want to see happening on a regular basis, and then go through the steps for planning and seeing those plans through. I can’t really take credit for anything that happened that day, other than accidentally giving the greenlight to what turned out to be a really fun evening.

It was also just comforting to see something like this come together. It gets tedious to feel like the only person who is interested in seeing things through, and being expected to do the legwork. I have also had a pretty rocky first term, largely due to having perhaps too high of expectations on how things would transpire. C’est la vie.

Also, I have yet to directly mention that I had a terrifically awesome (superbly wonderous) friend from home visit over the past three-ish weeks. She was swiftly given the name “Lindiwe Dlamini” which was pretty fitting. “Lindiwe” means something along the lines of “we’ve been waiting for you”. Because I’m actually insane, I put her to work for most of the time she was here… (still 1 million times grateful), and despite the fact that I left no time for fun (mostly true), it was actually the best visit I could hope for (you’ve got some big shoes to fill, mom). 

I had a lot of anxiety around her visiting, especially because it felt like literally everything was crumbling right before she landed in the Kingdom. I had reached a new level of disgruntledness that I didn’t know could be achieved, the weather had been pretty icky… essentially I had my own version of “March Madness”.  However, her visit ignitied an urgency to accomplish things that I honestly wasn’t sure existed here. All of a sudden, we had to do this and that “before Lindiwe leaves us.” Thus, sparked the consistent use of the phrase “so… this is happening” because that was the best way that I (perhaps we) could describe the events that unfolded. One minute I’d go from saying “I’m really sorry… I don’t think xyz will be possible.” To being instantly contradicted. You can ask her sometime… After a while I stopped pretending like I knew the answer.

It was also just really validating to have someone from home see my life practically through my eyes. The frustrations and confusion were also shared, and made me feel less like I was struggling more than necessary.  

Because despite my relatively hectic schedule, I still find solace in quiet reflection...

I can’t deny the fact that I experienced a significant amount of growth my first 6 or so months here. However, I think this term provided me several learning opportunities, and unanticipated challenges.

For one, it was amazing to have a friend from home visit. It provided comfort, reassurance and plenty of moments I’ve been missing over the past several months, like pop culture references that provided familiarity, chocolate kakhulu and the familiarity of home. At the same time, it highlighted, then somehow magnified who Bongiwe is. And would the real Bongiwe please stand up? Because I think, while she’s not really an alter ego, she’s definitely a more tenacious and intrepid Pam that boarded a plane all those months ago.

You’d think it’d be hard to misplace yourself when there’s two of you floating around, but February into March was rough. I got ugly.  Disgruntled, cantankerous, bitter, and perhaps even a tad jaded. Woof. With help from Lindiwe, I added a new rule to my list. “It is NOT my responsibility.” Which is a simplified explanation for why things went so sour. The little things that I had not adjusted to so well (forms of communication, overzealous gregariousity in shared living and working space, etc.) tipped me over the edge, and I felt increasing anxiety that things were spiraling out of control, and that everything I’d put my energy towards was no longer valued or relevant. It was a gargantuan bucket of suckiness. In retrospect, the contributing factors to this overflowing bucket, were temporarily forgeting my role, and job description, AND that one of the biggest aspects of being a volunteer is centering your experience on relationship building. Which, honestly, should just be the centripetal force of life. (Fun fact, “petere” is Latin for “seek”). So here I am rambling on as I seek my center. 

How's that for a zen-like conclusion?

And on that note... Here's a flowchart I've been crafting...