​Monday in a Picture – Build Your Own Bookshelf 

When I moved into my home here in Swaziland, it was a blank canvas. There was no furniture. There were empty walls. It was an invitation to create. 

After settling in to my home with a bed and homemade closet, it was time to tackle the next challenge. Where do I store all of the notebooks, manuals, and other random books that I’ve acquired since beginning my service? Thankfully, I rid myself of my book collection before leaving DC. Furniture can be expensive, especially when factoring in transportation costs. Building my closet provided me with the confidence and inspiration to take on another project: my bookshelf. 

I had some five empty soda bottles, thin rope, cement nails, zip ties, and duct tape. In my first attempt, I wrapped the bottles with the duct tape. Then, I tied the rope onto the ends of the bottles and wrapped the rope around the cement nails to hold it up. This setup wasn’t the best for bearing heavy loads. In my second attempt, I pushed all air out of the bottles and poked holes along the sides of the crushed bottles. Then, I zip tied the crushed bottles together and tied rope to the zip ties on the end. Finally, I wrapped the rope around the cement nails. This setup has been great for bearing the load of books. 

Be kind to yourself. 
Onward. 

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​ Sweet Dreams – Peace Corps in an alternative universe 

Because I am posted in a country where I might contract malaria, I have been given an antimalarial medication called, “Mefloquine”. One of the side effects of this medication is lucid dreaming. The following is what I dreamt last night (as best I can remember). 

I was in Las Vegas. It was for my Peace Corps staging event. There were no hotels. There were no conference rooms. I don’t remember any Peace Corps staff. We were all in a very large house. It seemed that the house had countless rooms. I only remember a very massive bedroom with a massively impressive bed. There was even a large, intricate wooden headboard and snazzy lighting. Despite ample sleeping space, no one slept due to immense excitement. 

We arrived in a city in the country of service. I’m not sure which country it was. It wasn’t Swaziland. I was taken to an apartment building and given keys. Upon entering the apartment, I was very excited and impressed. There was a full kitchen and two bedrooms (or so I thought). The bedrooms were on opposite sides of the apartment. My roommate was a PCV I had met in Madagascar (in real life). I chose a room and started settling in. I was exploring the apartment when I opened what I thought was a bathroom door. It was another bedroom with a closet full of dresses. Apparently there was another roommate who wore a lot of dresses. I never actually met this roommate. 

Be kind to yourself.
Onward.

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​Monday in a Picture – The Bus Rank 

The majority of transportation around Swaziland is done by minibus taxis, known as khombis. Imagine hundreds of fifteen passenger vans (typically Toyota Quantums or Mercedes Benz Sprinters) taking men, women, children, and chickens everywhere. The khombis travel through the cities and the rural communities. They travel on paved, tar roads, and on gravelly, dirt roads. Although the vans are  15 passenger vans, sometimes there are more than 15 passengers on board. The good news is that everyone gets to wherever they are going. The not so good news is that personal space doesn’t exist when riding in khombis (or buses) here. 

One of the features of Swazi transportation is the hub and spoke system. There are two major transportation hubs in Swaziland: Mbabane (the capital) and Manzini. These transportation hubs, known as bus ranks, are typically filled with khombis, buses, and young men yelling and/or whistling to advertise their khombi or bus, and where it’s going. For example, you might hear a loud whistle followed by Mankayane! Mankayane! Mankayane! If you don’t hear your destination being yelled, you can always stop to ask the bobhuti (pronounced bo-boo-tee), or young men, where you can find the khombi or bus that you need. One of the really helpful things about the bus rank is that khombis and buses tend to be in the same spot or area everyday.

While buses tend to have specified (though not posted) departure times, khombis tend to leave whenever they fill up with passengers. This could be why the bobhuti sometimes grab your bags while yelling questions like, “Uyaphi?” (pronounced oo-yah-pee), or where are you going? It makes great sense. A khombi sitting in the bus rank is not a khombi making money. 

You can also find all kinds of items for sale at the bus rank. There are clothing items, cosmetics, snack food, produce, drinks, and more. While buses are waiting to depart, various vendors will also come around to sell their wares. There are also various shops and stores that surround the bus rank. Because most urban businesses in Swaziland close in the early evening (between 5PM and 7PM), the bus rank has much less activity and traffic at this time. 

The picture above shows rows of khombis parked and waiting to fill up with passengers in the Manzini bus rank, which is the largest in the country. 

Be kind to yourself. 
Onward. 

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​Monday in a Picture – Grow Your Own Food: the Garden

Last week, I finished my garden. I used the techniques that we learned in a training session last month. Read about that training here. Building this garden was a great way to test my own knowledge and skill before leading trainings in my community. I’m still planning the community demonstration gardens with community leadership.

Double digging to depths of 30+ centimeters is hard, tedious work. The Swazi sun made the task even more unappealing. I hyped myself up by watching Ron Finley’s TED talk about guerrilla gardening. While the entire video is extremely motivational and inspiring, one quote stuck out to me.

“Growing your own food is like printing your own money.” – Ron Finley

I like money. I like food. Challenge accepted! It took four days to complete. I’m happy to announce that it’s done. Some of my neighbors came over to learn and help. It felt great to actually understand permagardening well enough to explain it to others. 

I’m sure that I didn’t do everything perfectly. There were measurements that I forgot to take. My idea (and practice) of companion planting is definitely not what we learned. I didn’t add ash or charcoal to the soil because we didn’t have any available. 

For those who may be wondering what I am hoping to grow, I planted seedlings of lettuce, red cabbage, Chinese cabbage, butternut squash, onions, okra, basil, something called rocket (which the sales associate told me is like spinach), broccoli, cauliflower, and eggplant. I planted seeds of chamomile, flowers, tomatoes, and spinach. Now, I’m just hoping that the seeds and seedlings turn into food.

Be kind to yourself. 
Onward. 

P.S. – This is what the space looked like before it became a garden. 

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Sweet Dreams – Fanboy

Because I am posted in a country where I might contract malaria, I have been given an antimalarial medication called, “Mefloquine”. One of the side effects of this medication is lucid dreaming. The following is what I dreamt last night (as best I can remember). 

I was with a large group of people. They may have have been classmates. They may have been teammates. They may have been my Peace Corps Swaziland cohort. We were in a restaurant waiting to go somewhere or do something. There were maybe 50 of us. The restaurant was a cross between a McDonald’s and a Starbucks.

Anyway, I get up to go to the counter to order something. In my periphery, I notice a man sitting down. To my left. In the distance. Holy shit! It’s Dak Prescott. I get out of line to nervously and eagerly approach. I try to put a sentence together, but manage to say something unintelligible. He’s cool. He shakes my hand. No big deal. He smiles and gets back to whatever he was doing. I don’t even go back to the counter. I go back to my group to excitedly tell them that Dak is there. They don’t seem to care as much as I do. I tell them that they don’t understand, and that this is like meeting the president of the United States. They blow me off. 

Fast forward. We’re in the same place. But they now offer banking services. Dak is getting a new bank account. On his way out, he jokingly offers me his signature. On the back of his card. I’m still so giddy and excited. 

Be kind to yourself. 
Onward. 

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Reflections from Madagascar

Recently, I vacationed in Madagascar to celebrate the New Year. Here are five quick reflections from Madagascar

  1. ​Yes, I went all the way to Madagascar and managed not to see one lemur. I didn’t make it to any of the national parks. I guess I have a reason to return, in addition to the beach and tasty stuff. A day on the beach is never wasted. 
  2. Speaking French could be  an (unofficial) prerequisite of visiting the island nation. There are two languages: French and Malagasy. English isn’t spoken with any regularity.  Luckily, a few people who did speak English were there to help me when I needed it. I’m extremely grateful to these language champions! (Side note: After speaking and hearing so much siSwati for the past six and a half months, I found myself greeting and responding in siSwati. Yebo babe would be uttered only to realize that I meant to say Bonjour Monsieur.)
  3. Madagascar is big. It’s the fourth largest island in the world. Navigating the island takes considerable time. I traveled on a taxi-brousse (intercity public transport) from Antananarivo to Tamatave. The journey of about 320 kilometers lasted 8 hours on relatively good roads. 
  4. The food was quite delightful. I enjoyed delicious seafood from traditional restaurants and traditional Malagasy hotelys. I sat in an ice cream parlour and had some peach ice cream that made my taste buds say “thank you”. I was fortunate to try several natural juices. I’m happy to report that they were all refreshing and delicious. There was even good Mexican food at a hostel in the capital. 
  5. During my trip, I was fortunate to meet some PCVs currently serving in Madagascar. They were all wonderful folks. We shared laughs, played games, and ate good food together. I learned that while the Peace Corps experience has some similarities wherever you go, it is just as unique the people who serve. 

Be kind to yourself. 
Onward. 

​Monday in a Picture – Community Shop

Grocery shopping is an all day task for me from my rural community. It involves taking public transportation to a town that’s approximately 25 kilometers away. Because it’s such a time intensive activity, I try to limit my trips to once or twice a month. I have also started using a grocery list to make sure I get everything that I need. 

Inevitably, there is something that I forgot while on my grocery shopping excursion. For anything that I did forget or didn’t put on my list, there’s the sitolo (pronounced see-toe-low), or shop. At a community shop, you can find essential items like bread, rice, cooking oil, and beans among other things. My community has at least four shops. The shops vary in size. They also vary in their offerings. At least one of the shops in my community sells various cuts of meat and margarine. 

The prices at the community shops are a tad more expensive than prices at larger grocers. Even in Swaziland, stores that are convenient have a price for that convenience. And it’s very convenient to spend a rand or two more for a few items instead of spending an entire day (plus transportation money) to get those same items. 

Be kind to yourself.
Onward.

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Monday in a Picture – New Year, New Haiku (times two)

Happy New Year! Bonne
année
from Madagascar. 
Love meaningfully. 

My mother almost
named me “George Quincy”. She knew
she’d just birthed GQ. 

Be kind to yourself.
Onward.

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P.S. – Bonne année means “Happy New Year” in French.