To the few people who have dropped by here in the past year in hopes of finding something new to read: My apologies. I was originally planning to use this blog to update my family and friends on my experiences in South Africa, but then found an easier (but much more annoying) method in line with infrequent Internet access: mass e-mails.
However, after two weeks of nationwide school strikes and a week of recuperating from an ACL injury suffered from an foolish leap off the back of a pick-up truck in front of a crowd of Venda women watching a traditional dance video outside the TV store in Thohoyandou -- I am finding myself with way too much time on my hands. In my case, this means there is way too much thinking going on inside my head which I can't discuss with my host family because I can't speak Tshivenda well enough (even if I could, brooding is not a common preoccupation in this part of the world). But I do have a laptop, keyboard and a memory stick. Ahh, you lucky readers!
I am missing school these days. Not the corporal punishment that teachers mete out when they think I am not watching or the hours of waiting to accomplish one small task because someone is late or has lost the proper paperwork, etc, etc. Mostly I miss the kids.
I have to admit that I enjoy the way the grade R learners (kindergartners) chant my name in unison when I visit their classroom or the way kids of all ages will continually shout my name on the playground until I acknowledge them with a smile or wave. I can see how movie stars can get used to constant attention and come to expect it after a while. Are you still real if someone doesn't recognize you?
But the attention isn't the only reason I miss those little buggers. It's the way they are all so eager to be at school, the joy on their faces when they are asked to do even the smallest thing -- like write on a chalk board, the way they are so generous with each other, sharing their lunch or a pencil with someone who doesn't have one. It makes for a wonderful, affirming work environment.
I'm not lonely though. The house is filled with people ALL the time -- Vho Maggie, Awelani, Thihangwe, Vho Mammburu, Mudalo, Rose, Vho Nyadzanga, various visiting relatives and friends. Awelani and Rose brought bathwater and meals to me just after my injury when I couldn't walk. And the kids in the neighborhood are also keeping me company -- picking objects off the table in my room and asking "is this?", eating it if it is food, drawing on their arms and legs with it if it is a marker or eyeliner, making pretend cellphone calls with it if it is anything else, playing with great imagination and energy, occasionally hitting my injured knee on purpose to make sure I am still in pain, being cute.
But I also miss being busy -- having a busy daily schedule, many things to do, places to go, papers to shuffle and organize. When I was at the Peace Corps office in Pretoria for x-rays and stuff last week, I was so envious of the staff and their ringing phones and official-looking desks with crammed in-boxes.
Sure I have things to do here -- complete plans for the high school peer counselor camp in July, complete an application for a well for one of the schools, plan an upcoming vacation to the Grahamstown Arts Festival and a week along the Wild Coast. But none of it seems official enough or of urgent necessity.
As I write this, I see how ridiculous I am, missing what I don't have and not wanting what I do have. If I was in school, I would be complaining that I wanted more time to rest my leg and plan my vacation. While working three jobs at the same time just before I left the states, I was dreaming of simplicity in a rural environment. I have so much. Feeling dissatisfied is really just a bad habit.