Today was a tough day

Today was a tough day, and I am trying to figure out what brought it on. Was it standing in one place for an hour waiting for the stupid Mogobane combi that never came?  I had an umbrella and was with one of the women from the support group so it was companionable enough.  Was it sitting in their meeting and watching the money collection at the end to bring their medicine container/treasury up to about 150 pula (which is less than $40)?  Was it their discussion about one of their members who was supposed to make homemade traditional beer for the group to sell, and no one has seen her or the beer since (or the 250 pula they put up to buy the sorghum to make it)?  Was it hearing the frustration the members felt and indignation that she would not be responsible, along with the realization that for all the labor and effort, making and selling homemade traditional beer isn’t a great money maker anyway?

Was it the sense of overwhelming need here, and my feeling that I can’t do anything, and certainly nothing fast enough, to help improve the lives of these people?  Was it the conversation I had last night with my friend IT, a Motswana, and his wife Louise from Scotland, and their experiences seeing friends die of HIV/AIDs years back, and worrying that people are becoming too complacent because the government provides free ARVS? That people are not really taking the risk of infection seriously enough to change their behaviors and younger people will continue to become infected partially because there is a cultural desire and expectation for women to have children? Or that few young people feel marriage is the way for them because they have seen how their parents interact and as young women, they would rather be the mistress than treated like their mothers were by their fathers.  So young women look for an older man who can provide for them – giving them money and other gifts – but who they don’t necessarily have to put up with when he gets drunk or annoying? That is the wife’s job.

Is it the ability of some people to turn a blind eye to suffering and people less fortunate and be willing to commit acts of corruption and theft of money that is meant to help everyone and not just a few?  Are we all just swimming upstream in a dry river?

None of these thoughts and questions are new to anyone here or anywhere else in the Peace Corps world.   But still, on this particular day, September 8, 2011, these thoughts were troubling to me.  I started asking the question many have asked, and I have often asked myself, “why am I doing this?”  Others may have asked me because they couldn’t figure out why I would leave a perfectly good job and life to go off and be a stranger somewhere, away from all I know and love.  I am asking the question more as, “what difference will I make by doing this?” Do people really care if I am here trying to help or not? Do people here believe they can make a difference in their own lives enough that I can join with them and find something I can contribute to their efforts?

With all these thoughts and some grief mixed in about my Dad, I finally made it home from Mogobane in time to grab a bit to eat, rest and try to get rid of a headache before going to a 2 p.m. meeting.  This meant I took a 30 minute nap and struggled to convince myself that I should get up and go to the meeting. It wasn’t like they expected me, or would miss me if I didn’t show.  They continue to forget to tell me about these meetings – the Village Multi-Sectorial AIDS Committee – so maybe I should just sleep. After all I deserve to rest.  But I walked down to the meeting, sat with 7 other people for about 30 minutes until they decided to cancel the meeting because the chair didn’t come.  I find this annoying. What was wrong with the 7 of us having a meeting? Had I known, I could have gone to Ramotswa and listened to Tshepo, one of the disabled employees of Camphill, give an inspirational speech to my friend Tom’s Lifeline group (a group of teenagers and out of school youth who meet weekly and undertake activities that help them build skills and friendships). So after our defunct meeting, I grabbed a ride with one of Tom’s co-workers who had come to our meeting and was heading back to Ramotswa. Things were starting to look up. 

I got to the meeting and Tshepo was eloquently talking to a room of 16 attentive teenagers about his life, his work, and the work of the disability support groups.  I understood maybe 25% of what he was saying only because I knew him and had read the report he was talking about, but there were things he said that I could tell where simply marvelous and really connected with the group, even though I was clueless what the actual words were.  I looked at these kids and wanted to just cry.  It was so nice to be in a room full of kids who have energy, ideas, and positive outlooks. Who haven’t been completely beaten down, who still have dreams, hopes and aspirations for their lives.  As Tshepo and I were leaving to catch our ride back to Otse, Omphile, one of the kids, wanted to tell everyone about how he and I had met and how it had brought him to this group. He said how happy he was to see me today and that he missed not seeing me more often, but would forever be grateful to me for helping him find his way here. It was all because of a chance meeting on a combi, and his friendliness towards me and openness about his life and interests (he is interested in theater and communications).  I simply listened and then hooked him up with Tom and this group.

So maybe my wandering around on and off buses and combis, getting blisters, waiting for combis that never come and wondering if I am doing anything useful or productive comes down to those chance moments and meetings and personal connections, not the number of organized meetings a person attends or doesn’t attend, or the reports written (although that SO matters to everyone because we have to justify our existence to funders, including the US taxpayers.) 

So, here as at home, it continues to be mostly about just showing up. The tricky part is I don’t always know exactly where I am supposed to show up, or who I might be showing up for when I do. Today, I think I had to show up mostly for myself, but it was nice to show up for Omphile as well.

This evening, I decided to enjoy a bit of the evening air so I swept my patio and walkway. There are two trees that constantly drop leaves and big seed-like pods onto the bricks. I have started sweeping because someone made me think that piles of leaves near my house are good places for snakes to hide.  So I sweep and collect the leaves and throw them on the other side of the property where I guess snakes are allowed to hide. As I did this relatively mindless activity (watching out of the corner of my mind for snakes, of course), I thought about how much gardening I used to do at home and how relaxing it was at times, even though raking leaves, like pulling weeds, was less enjoyable because leaves, like weeds, always came back. When you decide to garden, you have to make a long term commitment to go out and do something, even if just a little, every day because if you let things go it’s that much worse to deal with.  If I hadn’t been sweeping up these leaves the piles would be huge by now, my walkways and patio totally covered with leaves and dirt and my life full of snakes (well - maybe).

Hmmm.  Not at all unlike my life here and lives the world over.  Every day we have to do something to keep the worst of it at bay.  That’s how you don’t let life overwhelm you – you realize that this IS what life is about – getting up, doing what you need to do, and being kind to others who are out doing the same thing, as best as we all can.  Some days it is just about keeping the pathway clear and ready for the next time you use it.

Sure, we can argue that cutting the trees down would eliminate having to sweep the leaves constantly. But birds and bugs depend on these trees, and they provide humans and others with much needed shade and clean the air.  There are a lot of things in life that can be both annoying, seemingly useless, yet also functional, even beautiful.   So why am I here?  Maybe it’s to remember to be like the trees and appreciate the positives with the negatives, in all things? Maybe it’s about learning that this is good enough. For today, it is and I feel better.