South African Coast Roadtrip

Here's a video summary of our trip, which features monkeys, trains, hikes, beaches, waves, markets, and Twurly Cones.

Want to help launch 27 school libraries in Swaziland? me too. here’s how.

We're back in Swaziland and will post vacation pics/vids soon, but first things first-- this is way more important...

The vast majority of schools in Swaziland do not have functioning libraries or access to large collections of books, and our community’s primary school is no different. But they’ve recently renovated an old building for use as a new library and now all that’s needed are books to fill the shelves (see the pics). We’ve been trying to help them do that, pursuing a few different options with the school’s principal (plus, our good friends in Cottonwood, Arizona are even working on something—Cottonwood rocks!). And now YOU can get in on all this literary do-gooder action.


Thanks to fellow PCV (and great friend of ours), Jason Kiener, there is currently a Peace Corps Partnership Project (PCPP) online fundraising effort underway to supply about 30,000 books to over 27 schools in Swaziland… our school being one of the chosen. Want to help? Got five minutes? Donating to this project is easy, just go to this Peace Corps website and follow the steps (on the right-hand side of the page).

We’re among a group of in-country PCVs partnering with Jason on this important nation-wide effort to increase the library/book capacity of rural Swazi schools. The U.S. partner is an organization called Books For Africa, and your donations will help fund the shipment of a giant shipping container full of books to Swaziland. A librarian-training course for participating schools will also be donor-funded. See the above-linked site for more project details.

We estimate that our school, Ngwane Central Primary School, will receive just over 1000 books through this project to help establish its first ever library. Pretty cool, huh? There’s actually shelving space in our school’s renovated building for about 3,000-4,000 books, so the other ongoing book donation efforts are still very much needed and greatly appreciated! Together, all these combined efforts will have a school library up and running in no time.

Jason is using the same program—the PCPP—we used for our community garden water project. 100% of your donation goes to directly to project costs and implementation. Plus, it’s fully tax-deductible.

So if you love books and libraries, and if you love the idea of helping school kids here in Swaziland gain access to books and libraries, then this is a great opportunity to help make that happen. The PCPP amount being raised is US$10,300. Donations of any size are gratefully accepted.

As always, thanks for your continued kindness, generosity and support you’ve all shown us during our time here.

South Africa Sojourn

We're travelling along the South African coast right now, on a 15-day vacation from our site in Swaziland. We're surfing, hiking along beaches and through forests, exploring little towns and settlements... it's been great to be on the move. We've rented a car and can pretty much come and go as we please-- not relying on khumbis and busses feels like such a luxury-- and when we get to Cape Town we'll hop on a train bound for J-burg.

Right now I'm using the computer at a great backpacker's lodge located in the shady forests around Nature's Valley. Yesterday we hiked around Tsitsikamma National Park and it was brilliant. It's breakfast time and we have a fun day planned: Monkeyland in the morning and the beaches of Buffalo Bay in the afternoon. I've been excited about Monkeyland for months. It's a free-roaming primate sancuary in which you can just walk around the grounds with all varieties of monkeys. Guess I've gotta remember not to put bananas in my pockets today...

Anway, we've been driving from east to west along a coastal highway called the N2. We picked up our car in Piet Retief and went straight down to Durban, where I picked up a used surfboard other essentials. Then we went into a remote area called the Wild Coast, staying first in the Eden-like beach town ofPort St. Johns and then Coffee Bay. Coffee Bay was great-- stayed a few nights, surfed/boogie-boarded (she-J) in warm, shark-free waters and went on a little day adventure to Hole in the Wall. Then we headed on down to East London (where I picked up a cheap old wetsuit for the cold waters ahead), then the surf mecca of Jeffreys Bay for a few days. Next, we're off to Buffalo Bay for a couple of days/nights, then Mossell Bay, then we'll spend some time in the Cape Town area before boarding the train.

So that's the basic itinerary... we'll post pics and vids when we're back home in Swaziland.

two top 10's

two top 10 lists for you...

Top 10 Reasons it feels like we’ve only been here a SHORT time:

10. I still really suck at speaking siSwati.
9. We’re not even close to filling up the pit latrine.
8. I still get lost in Mbabane and turned around in Manzini.
7. Haven’t yet seen any lions or giraffes.
6. Still wearing the same old patched up pair of pants I brought with me.
5. Haven’t yet read the entire PCV Handbook
4. Still have plenty of crossword puzzles to do.
3. Haven’t gone through all the bags of coffee from care packages (thank God)
2. Feels like just the other day we were back home, saying goodbye to friends and family
1. Plenty of locals still stare at me as though I’m an extra-terrestrial

Top 10 reasons it feels like we’ve been here a LONG time:

10. 9 new babies have been added to our friends/family back home (including the Burley twins)
9. I hardly notice the roosters anymore
8. I’ve become quite skilled at pretending to understand more siSwati than I actually do.
7. Eating with my left hand (which is taboo here) feels really strange… and I’m left-handed.
6. Seeing a plane and/or hanging a fresh strip of fly tape constitutes an exciting day
5. It’s nostalgic to see and feel U.S. money (we keep a wad of it tucked away).
4. Hard to recall the annoyances of living in the U.S. but easy to remember the conveniences.
3. I call my wife “Khetsiwe” (her Swazi name) way more than I call her Jamie
2. I’m okay with being crammed into an overcrowded van with engine trouble and faulty doors
1. When white foreigners passed through our community (it’s happened exactly once) I stared at them as though they were extra-terrestrials

My Entrepreneurship students won a trophy

For the past academic year I have been facilitating a Junior Achievers (JA) business/entrepreneurship course at the high school, in which students founded a mini-company. They wrote a business plan, raised startup capital by selling shares and taking out a loan (from JA), then they developed a product and sold for a profit—all to learn about basic business operations and entrepreneurship. We sold scarves, ordered from a factory and designed to meet the school’s dress code requirements (kids get punished if they don’t adhere to it). They had the school motto, “Simply the Best,” embroidered on the scarf and sold it for a decent profit.

Anyway, at the end of the course, and after a Liquidation Report was turned in, the program judges selected the top 10 mini-companies in Swaziland to gather for an awards expo… and we were invited. The kids were pretty excited about the prospects of winning something. I, on the other hand, was more excited about a big, fancy lunch.

It happened last Saturday (Oct. 17th) in Manzini. At this expo, the General Managers of all 10 companies gave presentations about their company’s experience—startup, product, financials, social responsibility projects, income statement, etc—and the judges watched. Then these judges (businessmen and community leaders) combined the scores with previous scores to decide who got the awards. There were 1st, 2nd and 3rd place trophies, plus awards for CEO of the year, most innovative product, and best social responsibility project.

And you know what? Our little scarf company took home the grand prize: 1st place nationwide. Our CEO, a 17-year old boy named Makhosi, was interviewed for the local news. The school got a big, shiny trophy. The kids got prize money. I got that lunch. We were in the newspaper.

I know that winning isn’t everything, that the learning and practical experience gained by these students was its own reward… but I gotta tell you, winning feels good. And as the awards announcement approached that afternoon, I was just as nervous as my students. A little recognition is nice, you know? And for many of those kids, this was the most recognition they’d ever received. They danced on the bus all the way back home (see the video below).

It was a real challenge for me to be this program’s local facilitator. Cultural differences are really magnified in the classroom setting; they do school differently here, from corporal punishment to maddeningly “flexible” schedules… and frankly, I was never able to tell if anything I was teaching was actually sinking in. So it was nice that things ended happily. I guess sometimes you don’t know if a thing is worth doing until after you’re done doing it.

here's a short video for your viewing enjoyment...

top 10 highlights

Top 10 highlights, in no particular order, of our last three weeks or so here in Zombodze (not including the College Fair-- see previous post for that)...

1. Today while doing the laundry, Jamie-girl estimated that we only have to hand-wash all our clothes about 40 more times.  Her estimate is based upon doing it once per week… I suggested that if we only did it once every 2 weeks we’d get that number down to 20.  Sensing my lazy ulterior motives, she shook her head disapprovingly.  So 40 more times it is.  Summers are much easier for clothes-washing: less overall bulk, and virtually no pants or socks. But still, 40 seems like a big number to me. 

 2. With today’s afternoon weather akin to standing in front of a hair dryer, our clothes dried really, really quickly hanging on the line.  Maybe not a legitimate “highlight,” but exciting nonetheless.

 3. Down in the community garden, water now regularly gushes from the spigots.  Many men, women and children now use lengths of hose (connecting them to the spigots) to water their garden plots—compared to carrying the water one bucket at a time from a muddy seep 100 meters away.  It’s a miraculous difference.  I saw Grandfather Simelane using a sprinkler head the other day.  There is still work to do on the renovation project (repairing a few leaks, installing valves, replacing old/broken parts, improving upper reservoir, building concrete retention tanks in the garden), but the transformation is already apparent.  People are expanding their plots, new areas are being cleared, unwanted trees are being removed from within the fenceline… a new energy of optimism is palpable among the gardeners.  I like being there.

 4. Also in the garden, We planted a bunch of beans and in a few weeks we’ll plant more (staggered sowing will stretch out our harvest).  We’ve also planted more beets, carrots, tomatoes, potatoes… and our cabbage, corn and squash are off to good starts.

 5. Scooter, our favorite of the 5 homestead dogs, has injured his paw.  One of the pads is flayed open like a prawn, as though he stepped on a big piece of glass or something, and I cannot imagine he’ll heal up very easily.  But he’s always licking it and keeping it clean, and the wound actually seems to be improving.  We’ve seen him heal from nasty flesh wounds before, so maybe he’ll be back to his old self soon enough.  But these days he hobbles around on just three legs, which hinders his favorite pastime: harassing wayward cattle. 

 6. While hiking around on one of our favorite boulder-strewn mountaintops here in Zombodze, we had a little run-in with a snake.  I was standing on top of a rock under which it was hanging out.  It popped its head up and looked at me, and here’s the thing: it was the thin, hooded head of a cobra.  In an instant I hopped away to a different rock, and we watched from a distance as it slithered through the grass and vanished behind some other boulders.  Seeing a snake is not that rare, even big ones (this was well over 1 meter long and thick as my wrist), but this particular sighting merits special mention because, after consulting our trusty wildlife ID book, we’re about 80% sure it was a Mozambique spitting cobra, one of the so-called Big Seven (the 7 deadly snake species living in Swaziland).  Isn’t that a great, ferocious name?  It’s common and widespread here, though apparently less so in our specific climate region, and as its name promises, it has incredible ability to… I’ll quote from the book: “spit venom up to three meters at any threatening movement.”  3 meters, for the metrically challenged, is almost 10 feet-- and they aim for the eyes.  Apparently I didn’t constitute enough of a threat to the snake, standing on a rock 1 or 2 feet away from its head with a walking stick in my hand… and though I’m thankful of that, I’m also personally offended.  Not threatening enough??  I’ll have you know, I’m plenty threatening.  Let it be known: the Mozambique spitting cobra is both dangerous AND insulting.  Jamie-girl, having heard a “snake-like sound,” had avoided that rock altogether.  Smart girl.  Have I thanked you all for your thoughts and prayers lately?  Thank you.  Have I asked you to keep them up?  Please do.  I truly love having stories like this… but only because they end well. 

 7. As a result of the above experience, we had a rather careful and tense hike back down the boulders of what WAS our favorite local camping and hiking spot.  Not sure we’ll be pitching the tent up there again… bummer.

 8. H1N1, the swine flu, is making the rounds in Swaziland.  At last count, 13 PCVs had it.  They’re all gonna be fine, and we’re fine too, but the PC Office has placed overnight travel restrictions on us until things calm down.  The attention garnered by the swine flu in Swaziland has been a source of much frustration for us PCVs: we often struggle to raise awareness about the far more lethal threat of HIV/AIDS, all while this flu strain gets front-page coverage.

 9. The wives of all 4 married couples in our Group 6 recently got together and finalized the dates of our beach camping trip to Mozambique.  It’s 3 weeks away.  I’m counting the hours.  I now daydream about the warm Indian Ocean waters.

 10. Some friends of ours recently passed us a bunch of great African music, and we’re enjoying it.  Artists from all over the continent—Ethiopia, Zimbabwe, all over West Africa… it’s great stuff.  Ali Farka Toure, Baaba Maal, Dub Colossus, Ernest Ranglin, Habib Koite, Mandoza, Femi Kuti, Manu Dibango (African soul), and lots of stuff from West African jazz legend Fela Kuti. 

High School College Fair

Last week the local high school had its first ever College Fair, thanks to the efforts of Jamie-girl.  She managed to get representatives from 7 tertiary institutions operating in Swaziland to come and speak with all the Form 4 and 5 students (equivalent to US grades 11 and 12).  The school faculty was really pleased with the event and they now want to hold another one next academic year (hopefully the beginning of an annual thing).  The students here face challenges in getting reliable, first-hand info about their post-high school academic options, so this College Fair was very well received by them.  There were a few business/technical schools at the Fair that many students didn’t even know about—and since there’s only one university in Swaziland, those schools offer some important options. 

After the event I got a note from a student that really made our day: “Sir I don’t know where to start when telling your wife how thankful I am about the eye-opener college fair. I’m now looking forward to my future…”  So cool.  It turns out that formal and informal guidance counseling in the high school has proven to be a really valuable aspect of our work here.  Back in the US, teens and students can slip up a few times and still have some reasonable opportunities to get back on track, but here there’s just no room for error and those same little slip-ups can result in hopelessness about their future.  This student’s note was encouraging to us.

The next Royal Residence

Last week a local friend of ours was part of a Zombodze delegation that was summoned to meet with the King, His Majesty Mswati III, at his royal residence in nearby Embangweni.  And he came back with interesting news for the chiefdom.

 The king wants to build another royal residence here, on the grounds of Zombodze’s umphakatsi (the chief’s homestead and center of community life), and preparations will begin within the year.  What that means is this: once the residence is built, one of the queens will live here.  Not the Queen Mother, mind you, but one of the others.

 The king currently has 10 royal residences (and 13 wives,) the nearest one being about 25km away at Embangweni… so why build another one here at Zombodze?  Well, there happens to be a lot of historical significance to this particular location.  Our friend explained that the Zombodze umphakatsi is the site of what’s called a “royal kraal,” a kraal being a place where cattle are kept (read: corral).  And, according to our friend, this is actually where Swaziland’s first king lived, King Ngwane (which explains why Zombodze is more commonly known as Ngwane). 

 It goes back to ancient times, when the Swazi people parted ways with and warred against the Zulu and the Nkosi people.  This Chiefdom was where King Ngwane and his Swazi warriors established their territorial boundary with the Zulu.  In fact, the neighboring South African state, which we can see from our homestead, is called KwaZulu-Natal, “home of the Zulu.’  So the royal family from which King Mswati III descends has ancient ties to this specific location.  The first king (Ngwane) is apparently buried on the other side of a nearby hill.  And here in Southern Africa, ancestral connections are nothing less than spiritual connections. 

 Because of all this ancestral significance, the royal family often comes to Zombodze’s royal kraal to perform certain important rituals and ceremonies.  If there’s an election, for example, or some auspicious occasion requiring a certain ancestral ceremony they’ll come at night, do their thing, and then be gone before sunrise.  And I guess the King figures it would be much easier in all of this coming and going to have a royal residence here. 

 I’m sure we’ll be gone before the residence is completed.  It will undoubtedly change things for this community.  Having high fences and walls and armed guards at umphakatsi will be different, and having a Queen as a local resident will surely change public life here.  Perhaps certain community-development projects will be fast-tracked, and perhaps the local economy will get a boost… I don’t know.  But regardless, it’s exciting news for the Chiefdom and I think there’s a certain amount of community pride about the whole thing.  Which is good; everyone deserves to feel proud about where they’re from.

 By the way, if you happen to have a copy of Shaka Zulu, please send it our way.  We’d like to watch it now, as much of it apparently takes place in these surroundings.

Kombi Logic

Kombi (koom-bee): a privately owned and operated minivan taxi, specially modified and licensed for public transport, which adheres to specific routes (like a bus) and which is notorious for three common characteristics: blaring loud music, having mechanical problems of all possible varieties, and overloading passengers.

Over the past year we have grown accustomed to various routines and daily-life details we’d consider to be uncomfortable (or at least inconvenient) back home.  We hardly notice or even miss having running water inside our home, for example.  But relying upon kombis and busses for all our movement is still pretty annoying to me.  We’re now mostly numb to the various physical discomforts-- being cram-packed in them, breathing exhaust fumes, enduring loud (and really bad) music, having anxiety about the driver’s recklessness and the vehicle’s road-worthiness… these are all things we’re quite used to.  But what continues to frustrate us is how kombis and busses make otherwise easy errands difficult.  They can completely thwart one’s attempts at keeping schedules and plans, patience and sanity.  But sometimes they provide us with funny stories, and for that—and only that—I’m thankful to them.

Our kombi ride from Nhlangano back to Zombodze last week started out pretty typical: we went to the bus rank (a big parking lot for busses and kombis full of horns and hollering), got into the kombi marked ‘Zombodze,’ and proceeded to wait for it to fill up.  Official capacity was 15 but they rarely leave without having at least 17 passengers (driver not included), plus everyone’s bags and groceries piled into it.  And this time was no different in that regard.  We set out for our 35-minute ride with 17 passengers, and it was pretty comfortable by kombi standards: the music wasn’t very loud and it may have been overloaded but not ridiculously so; not circus-clown overloaded.

But as we left the paved highway and started heading down the dirt road that leads to Zombodze, a police truck passed us, then came to a stop in front of us.  And before our kombi could go around it, two policemen were motioning for us to pull over.  The usual spot-inspection of the kombi ensued, and the police counted 2 passengers too many.  So the driver got out and walked back to the police truck to do business while us passengers waited.  These things take time.  Everything takes time.

Eventually, the driver and his conductor (a guy who sits at the slider door and collects money) were given two choices: either they accept a ticket for E120 (or about US$15), representing E60 per violation, or… they pay the cops E30 in cash and go on their way.  So okay-- a typical roadside bribery situation, nothing unusual about that. 

The conductor and driver paid off the corrupt (and cheap) police and our kombi resumed its bumpy ride down the dirt road without having to unload any passengers.  And within a few minutes, the kombi stopped to pick up another passenger.  18 people inside, which meant that every “row” was now truly packed, but nothing we couldn’t endure for the remaining 10km or so.  But then the driver stopped to pick up another person, and then another one—making 20 passengers.  And that, I can tell you, is an unusually tight fit.  If you’re among 20 passengers packed into a standard-sized kombi and you didn’t previously know your benchseat-neighbor, you certainly know them now.       

Jamie and I weren’t the only ones who couldn’t help but laugh at the sudden turn of events—from being pulled over for overcrowding to being legitimately overcrowded in a matter of minutes.  What was the driver thinking?  Well, here’s the thing.  He’d never have loaded up 20 passengers had he NOT been pulled over and fined.  But since he was now down E30, he had a strong incentive to pick up as many passengers as possible, which is exactly what he did.  It’s kombi logic: he needed to earn back the money those police had taken. 

I’m pretty sure the irony was utterly lost on our driver.  By the time we reached Zombodze, I counted 21 passengers in the kombi—with the official capacity being 15 (driver not included).  One was a kid, and he didn’t take up too much space… but still, I think it was the second most crowded kombi I’ve ever been in.  All because we’d been pulled over for overcrowding. 

Some people here like to throw around the acronym, TIA, which stands for ‘This Is Africa.’  I don’t like to use it, mostly because as a volunteer for a Federal agency there are already enough TLA’s  (three-letter acronyms) in my life.  But if I did like to say TIA, I guess that kombi escapade would have been an ideal occasion: corrupt enforcement of vehicle overcrowding leads to an immediate increase in… overcrowding.

Reed Dance: video clip

Since our pics of the Umhlanga ceremony don't really do it justice, here's a short video clip to give you an idea of the event's movement and sound.  

Umhlanga (Reed) Dance

Last weekend we attended one of Swaziland’s two big, annual cultural events, the Umhlanga (Reed) Dance.  The main ceremony is held in Lobamba at the King’s royal residence, the official location of all Swazi cultural ceremonies.  But we just went to the regional one (which happens a few weeks later as the King travels to his other royal residencies throughout the kingdom replicating the ceremony).  The Reed Dance ceremony is for the young, maiden (virgin) women of Swaziland.  The traditions and symbolism behind it is fairly complex... from a spectator's point of view, it looks like a large parade or procession of girls and women in traditional wear dancing and singing for the king and his men.

Here are some pics, as it's hard to describe otherwise.  there were between 10,000 and 16,000 participants at this regional ceremony (the national one had about 80,000).  Red feathers worn in the hair indicates royalty-- in this case, the princesses. 

 

The pics don't do this event justice-- the sounds and movement of it are amazing.  We'll put together a short video to post for next time.  

Garden Project Update

We're staying in the capital city of Mbabane for the rest of the week for our mid-service medical and dental exams. This means we'll be spending a lot of time in the PC Office's Volunteer Lounge which has a couple of computers--a nice perk.

We wanted to provide everyone with an update regarding the community garden water project. Last week we finished digging the 730 meter trench and laid the pipe on thursday. We had a crew of 10-15 men, women, and children performing the work. The men joined the the pipe because that needed muscle and the women and children covered the pipe with dirt once it was in the ground. Now, the community garden spigots have water again! We call this "Phase I" of the project. When we return from our medical exams next week, we'll begin Phase II which involves installing flush valves and filters as well as fortifying some areas, namely at the headwaters of our source, for sustainability.

To be continued...

Down the Trenchline

Hi everyone-

Work has begun on the community garden's new water system. It's an all-volunteer labor project, and the community turnout has been good. This week the water pipe trench will be finished, and on Thursday we'll be placing and covering the new pipe. Anyway, this video shows work on the rockiest (and therefore most difficult) section of trench.-- a good volunteer turnout that day.

Thank you

Just a quick thank you to all of you who donated to the garden water project. The money was raised within one week-- cool. So the work has begun, and I'll be posting pics, vids and updates for you as things progress.

So far the volunteer workers have been doing great. In fact, the 730-meter long trench will be completed this week. We'll be placing piping in the ground next week. So thank you for helping to make this happen!

Are you ready?

After much planning and waiting, our community garden water system project has been officially approved by the Peace Corps Partnership Project, and the fundraising can begin!

So here's how it works. It's easy. You go to a website, read the project description, enter the amount you'd like to donate to the project in the little box on the right-hand side of the page, and click "Donate." the PC website guides you through the remaining quick steps.

Here's the link: https://www.peacecorps.gov/index.cfm?shell=resources.donors.contribute.projDetail&projdesc=645-072

All donations are tax deductible and go directly to us for the materials costs of our project-- no overhead expenses at all. The project summary describes the work pretty well, so I won't elaborate further in this post... but if you want more info please let me know and I'll send it your way.

Thank you, dearest friends and family, for your interest and generosity.

Dropping Off The Cow

Here's an article I wrote for the PC-Swaziland newsletter, which goes to all us in-country PCVs and PC staffers.

Dropping Off the Cow

For Senzo and Doctor, delivering the cow was serious family business. Jamie and I went along for the adventure of the walk: about 32 kilometers (20 miles or so) across the rolling Shiselweni countryside to a homestead near Hlatikulu, connecting footpaths with dirt roads through grasslands and gumtree forests for about 9 hours. With a cow. It was not until the end of our journey, when an insulted gogo refused to accept the cow as sufficient payment for Senzo’s “transgressions,” that I realized just how serious this business was.

The gogo had been clear upon our arrival. Senzo had been told to deliver five cows to her homestead. Two would probably have sufficed as a down-payment, as a gesture of good faith… but one cow? Not good enough. These were delicate matters. And Jamie and I sat alongside him on the grass mats, accomplices in his apparent insult, smiling and playing dumb. Had we really walked all day with a cow through 7 different Chiefdoms just to insult perfect strangers? Yep. And we now sat in their yard, tired and hungry and wondering how we’d ever get home before nightfall. I asked myself, what would Mfanafuti do in this situation? Clearly, vigilance was in order.

Senzo is our 26-year old bhuti [brother]. The transgression for which he was paying was in fact an unplanned pregnancy. He’d fathered a beautiful and healthy baby boy, born to his girlfriend four months earlier. So, for knocking up his girl he now owed her homestead five cows, but without proper employment he’d only managed to round up one. He had every intention of paying the full five cows, just over time—in one-cow installments. His girlfriend’s homestead, however, had clearly expected the two-cow installment plan (actually, it’s a bit more complex than that… I’ll explain it soon enough). Their refusal to accept the cow was, in part, a matter of family pride: Senzo had taken their only granddaughter’s virginity and in exchange he now dared to low-ball them on the penalty payment. Unacceptable. So what was to happen? Were we to walk the cow all the way back? Impossible: not enough daylight, and even if there was, the beast was exhausted. And so were we.

We’d picked up the cow 9 hours earlier, from a relative’s hilltop kraal in the pale pre-dawn light of 5am. She was a bit short for a cow but quite healthy, with a solid black coat and properly curved horns… nothing special but certainly nothing to refuse under normal circumstances. She even had a name: Mfazomnyama (Zulu, not siSwati), meaning “Black Wife.” And for the first 15 kilometers or so she was feisty at the end of her rope, wildly darting off-trail and refusing to cross rivers and generally disregarding the wishes of Doctor, our homestead’s teenage shepherd boy and occasional cattle driver. But eventually she wore down and resigned herself to the long walk.

One must have a proper permit to transport a cow in Swaziland. We got ours from the local government veterinarian back in Zombodze, waking him up at about 5:30am and asking him to inspect Black Wife. He obliged us, though begrudgingly, and signed the paperwork legitimizing our journey. And it’s a good thing we were legit: policemen and regular citizens alike stopped us all along the way, demanding to see the cow’s paperwork and asking questions-- where are you taking that cow? That’s too far to walk—why aren’t you taking proper transport? And (to Senzo) why have you taken these bamhlungu with you? Our answers were usually met with outbursts of laughter. Apparently, white people walking across the countryside is kind of funny to locals… add a cow to the mix and it’s downright hilarious.

Jamie and I helped walk the cow as best we could, wielding sticks and throwing the occasional dirt clod or whistling and hollering, but mostly we just trailed behind it, watching where we stepped and talking with Senzo. We discussed the various Chiefdoms through which we walked, about the homesteads we encountered and the rivers we crossed. And of course we talked about the transgression and its five-cow penalty.

Months before, when the pregnancy had been discovered, his girlfriend’s family had paid a visit to Senzo’s homestead to discuss the issue and to claim their right to a penalty payment. They’d placed in his sweaty palm five maize kernels, which told him exactly how many cows they’d be expecting. There was no negotiation or debate about it. This was compensation for having taken their granddaughter’s virginity. Three of the five penalty cows could be directly applied to Senzo’s eventual Lubola payment of 15 cows. Sort of like the kind of arrangement common at wine tastings, where the tasting fee is waived or discounted if you end up buying a whole bottle.
Actually, it’s a lot more complicated than that. There are long-established traditional protocols for the situation Senzo and his girlfriend were in. The first cow—the one we were delivering—is called the imvimba, a term specifically referring to a cow given in order to calm down a girl’s family when there’s an unplanned pregnancy. It is usually the only one that’s butchered and eaten right away. The second cow is called the inhlawulo, or penalty cow paid for an unplanned pregnancy. And the other three cows are considered a kind of installment on the future lubola payment. The girlfriend’s gogo had been led to believe that the imvimba and the inhlawulo would be delivered together: one to eat and one to keep.

Anyway, it became clear as we walked and talked that Senzo wanted to marry this woman. He wanted to pay the Lubola and be a proper husband and father… but how? If he couldn’t come up with even two cows for an initial payment where would he manage to get 15? So it seemed that a proper traditional Swazi marriage was still quite out of reach, regardless of his (belatedly) honorable intentions. In fact, Senzo explained that many Swazi guys in his economic situation wouldn’t likely deliver even a single cow nowadays—they’d just stay away from the mother and child. But Senzo was actually interested in being a father to his new son, and he reasoned that delivering this cow would at least earn him visitation rights. Insulting the (potential) future in-laws had not been part of his plan.

Still, Senzo probably deserved the tongue-lashing that gogo gave him that afternoon in the yard. It lasted about 30 minutes and was, considering the circumstances, fairly tame. And it was quickly followed by gracious Swazi hospitality: A big, hot meal. Despite her obvious disappointment, gogo invited us into the home for chicken, lipalishi and sweet potato. It seemed a strange turn of events. I’m quite familiar with the platitude about not biting the hand that feeds you, but is there an equally clear guideline about eating from the hand you’ve just insulted? None come to mind. It was an awkward situation, which may have been why no one from the homestead joined us visitors for the meal. We ate alone— Senzo, Doctor, Jamie and myself—like the hungry outcasts we were, grateful yet nervous.

Black Wife’s paperwork sat on the corner of the table as we ate, folded into fourths and wrinkled. Senzo explained the situation. If gogo came in and asked for that paperwork, then she was tacitly accepting ownership of the cow. If not, then her refusal was clear and final. But honestly, can you imagine a gogo turning away a free cow?

By the end of our meal gogo had joined us in the living room and, much to our relief, she asked for the cow’s paperwork. She inspected it and explained that the cow must be accompanied by a solemn promise from Senzo to deliver the others as soon as possible. Senzo gave his word. So it was, for the moment, settled. Black Wife would be taken to a nearby relative’s kraal for safekeeping and would soon be slaughtered. Us four visitors were finally free to leave.
But before we did, Senzo got what he’d come for: a little time with his new son, Senzelo. His girlfriend brought him out and propped the chubby little guy on one of daddy’s legs and sat down beside him on the couch. I saw smiles all around—not strained or awkward smiles, but genuine ones. Happy ones. There’s something about a healthy little baby, smiling and bouncing atop his father’s lap, that trains one’s attentions on the future, however uncertain. And though everyone in the room that afternoon probably had different thoughts and fears about what that future held in store, it’s notable that we all found at least one thing to smile about.

What made me smile (other than being really full and free to go) was seeing Senzo make an honorable effort at fatherhood. Sure, mistakes had been made and penalties exacted and family pride had been wounded and all manner of difficulties abounded… but you know, I find it hard not to admire an honest attempt at doing the right thing, however clumsy the attempt.

By the way, if you happen to know where to find four respectable cows at a deeply, deeply discounted rate, please let me know.

This is Senzo with his son, Senzelo.

The handwaashing song

Hi all-

last week we did a short hand-washing lesson for the group of orphans and vulnerable children (OVCs) at a nearby Neighborhood Care Point (NCP), which is where they gather to get a meal. the words to this song are about needing to take care of one's self. the buildings you see are a little sitolo (store) and the home of the sitolo owner. the actual NCP has no structure; it's just an outdoor firepit onsite where volunteer women cook the meal. the tables, chairs, and cooking equipment is locked in the sitolo at nights, so it works fine. This is one of the "functioning" NCPs, and we enjoy doing activities with them.

Our Community Garden Water Project

We’ve formally begun the process of improving the water-delivery system for Zombodze’s community garden. This kind of project begins with a series of community meetings, and the first meeting has been held. We’re now exploring the various approaches with stakeholders (mostly mothers who are active in the garden) and gathering information about two potential water source (their cost-benefit, long-term sustainability, and broader community support for each).

We drafted a letter to express the consensus of those attending the first meeting, and to get a few key community leaders singed up to the cause. It provides a good overview of the project, so I’ve copied it here:

May 18, 2009

Subject: Zombodze Community Garden Water Delivery System Renovation

To whom it may concern:

We, the undersigned, would like to formally express our active support and involvement in renovating the water delivery system for Zombodze-Ngwane’s community garden. This community-initiated project is vital to the proper functioning of the garden, which has suffered from dwindling participation for years due to its unreliable water supply. We hereby recognize that an improved water delivery system is very much in need, and that there is sufficient community interest in rehabilitating the garden to warrant sponsorship of this project.

17 years ago, when the current water delivery system was installed, participation in the Zombodze community garden swelled. Its plots provided both food and income to over 50 local homesteads. Shop owners from all over the Nhlangano area came to our garden to purchase produce and local families had a variety of fresh vegetables in their kitchen, even during the dry season. But by the late 1990s a series of events, both natural and manmade, undermined the dam and the piping supplying the garden’s spigots with water. As the water dried up, so did participation, and so did the funding needed to maintain what was left of the weakened delivery system.

Today the majority of participants still maintaining year-round plots are widows and their children or grandchildren, together representing about 10 local homesteads. For the last decade these women and children have watered their crops by using open trenches to divert water into the garden spigots, and by carrying buckets of water from local streambeds. But this method has proven increasingly unreliable, burdensome, and unsustainable for supporting even this modest number of garden participants. A renovation is needed.

There are still components of the previous water delivery system that can be utilized, most notably the underground piping and spigots within the garden fences. Since these existing elements offer us a variety of cost-efficient approaches to securing reliable water for the garden, we support a renovation project that makes proper use of them.

We share three general goals for our community garden, all of which require an exclusive, reliable water delivery system. The first goal is to raise participation levels back up to 50 or more Zombodze homesteads. The second goal is to increase the numbers of local children and youth actively participating in the garden. The third goal is to see the establishment of a new Community Garden Committee, comprised of participating gardeners, whose charge it will be to oversee and maintain all the components of the renovated water delivery system. This committee will help ensure that the difficulties of the past are not repeated.

It is time once again to make our community garden an important resource for income and food in Zombodze, and we hereby endeavor to raise the support and funding necessary to make that happen. We ask you to join us in this important effort, and we thank you in advance for your support.

Respectfully,

Rachel Nsibandze, Chairperson Bheki Ngwenya, Indvuna Simanga Mdluli, Bucopho
Zombodze Community Garden Zombodze Inkhundla Zombodze Chiefdom

Johannes Ndlangamandla, MP Timothy Cook, Volunteer Jamie Cook, Volunteer
Zombodze Inkhundla US Peace Corps US Peace Corps

So that's the letter.

Some of you have already generously expressed an interest in partnering with us on this project, and we really appreciate it. We’ll need all the help we can get! This will likely be the most expensive single project we attempt while here, and though it doesn’t seem like much by US standards, it’s a lot by Swazi standards. We won’t have a useful cost estimate until a water source has been chosen, but it’s safe to say that the project will likely run between $2500 and $3500 US dollars.

As the community’s decision-making process moves forward, we’ll be applying for a Peace Corps Partnership Program (PCPP) posting, and that’s how you’ll be able to donate. Our project will eventually be posted on the PCPP website where anyone can contribute directly to its overall cost; once all the money is raised then PCPP will send us the full funds to begin the work.

In the meantime, if you have questions or just want to tell us you’re interested in being a part of this effort, then cool—it really helps our planning to know the level of support out there-- send me an email and I’ll happily reply: cooktimothy@hotmail.com.

the halfway mark

Hi everyone-

June marks the one-year anniversary for us coming to Swaziland; the halfway point of our PC service. So all 30 of us remaining “group 6” PCVs will be congregating for a weeklong, mid-service conference to talk about… stuff… and to learn about… things. I don’t really know what we’ll be doing. Wait—I know a few things: the annual medical exams are on the agenda. Oh joy. If you’ve ever wished your life consisted of more shots and vaccinations, you should seriously consider PC Service. Also, Jamie and I will be doing a short workshop outlining to other PCVS that singing competition (what went into planning/executing it), so I’m sure other PCVs will be doing similar programming workshops.

I guess that’ll be interesting, but mostly I’m looking forward to two things: a week of meat for dinner, and a week spent hanging out with our fellow PCVs. We haven’t seen many of them for months and we really miss them. They’re a great group of people and having a week together is gonna be great. The exchange of ideas and news and approaches (and music and movies and books) makes the mid-service conference valuable, regardless of what’s formally planned.

Lastly, I (Tim) would like to request some books that I’ve been unable to find here. It’s a very strange listing coming from me, as you’ll see, not my usual line of interest. But they’re great examples of certain storytelling techniques and archetypes found in modern horror/fantasy and American Gothic novels… and I want schooling in that dept. This is actually a listing of genre-classics compiled by Stephen King in his excellent and detailed study of the form, Dance Macabre. Anyway, here’s the list—cheap old paperbacks are what I’m wanting, any condition, the lighter the better:

Ghost Story by Peter Straub (1970s)
The House Next Door by Anne Rivers Siddons (1978)
Haunting of Hill House by Shirley Jackson (1959)
The Turn of the Screw by Henry James (1898)
Rosemary’s Baby and A Kiss Before Dying both by Ira Levins (1960s)
The Body Snatchers by Jack Finney (1955)
Something Wicked This Way Comes by Ray Bradbury (1962)
The Shrinking Man by Richard Matheson (1956)
The Doll Who Ate its Mother and Parasite both by Ramsay Cambell (1970s)
The Fog by James Herbert (1975)
Stange Wine (story collection) by Harlan Ellison (1978)
The Shining and Salem’s Lot by Stephen King

If forced to narrow this list, I guess I’d pick the books by Bradbury, Ellison, Jackson, James, and Finney… but any and/or all of these titles will be much appreciated!

me, you, and 13,000 close friends

The highlight of our Cape Town trip was our participation in city’s Two Oceans Marathon. We ran the 1/2 marathon (21km or 13.1 miles). Over 13,000 people ran the 1/2, which meant that we ran in a huge crowd for the first 7km or so. When we reached the hilly portion of the course it was easier to maintain a regular pace, as the crowd thinned out a bit. This was Jamie-girl’s third 1/2 marathon (New Zealand and Tacoma were the others) and my first. Our friend and fellow Swaziland-PCV, Jason, joined us on the course, and we were met at the finish line by his wife (also a PCV), Erika. We all had a great time running together, despite having to get up at 3am on race day.

Turns out, I (Jamie-boy) didn’t have too much difficulty running the distance. I enjoyed myself—which I never imagined possible. In fact, us Jamies plan to enter another 1/2 marathon event before returning to the States, this one at Victoria Falls in 2010 (the course looks amazing).

Get this: the morning AFTER race day, Jamie-girl got up and… went for a brisk run. Needless to say, I stayed in bed.

race relations in South Africa

One thing we did NOT particularly like about Cape Town was the still very pronounced impact of generations of institutional segregation and Apartheid. It is most prominently expressed in terms of economics: the only black families one finds in “fee areas” like Boulder Beach or Kirstenbosch Botanical Gardens are those working there, cleaning the grounds; the only blacks one finds in downtown restaurants are the waiters. The socio-economic divide mirrors the racial divide with frightening precision; there is virtually no deviation between the two.

And the most common public interaction between whites and blacks is framed in inherently unequal economic relationships as well: boss interacts with employee, customer interacts with worker, passerby interacts with beggar. It’s hard to imagine growing up your whole life having only related to blacks in terms of unequal economic transactions: as employees, as workers/servers in stores and shops and even homes, or as pesky beggars on the street. Never as neighbor, never as fellow church members or teammates or co-worker… never as anything meriting equal deference. Quite a skewed reality. Yet it’s a common one for white South Africans. And that knife cuts both ways, as blacks grow up with an equally skewed reality (I’m called “boss” all the time by Swazis and black South Africans, simply because I’m white. Drives me nuts-- this casual bit of slang is no accident of language, it’s descendant of a warped racial reality). So it’s no wonder that most aspects of SA culture are still quite segregated, from swimming beaches to public transportation, regardless of government policy. The Southern US cities have nothing on the South African cities in this regard. And it’s going to take a long time—at least two generations of equal employment opportunity, I’d think—before Cape Town’s social and racial diversity becomes the valued asset it should rightly be.

I’m not an expert in race relations or the impact of institutionalized racism on social/cultural development, but it’s pretty easy to see the post-Apartheid struggles and how they’re reshaping both the big cities and small towns of South Africa. These struggles reveal a deeply wounded, culturally fractured country. We Americans tend to think of post-Apartheid SA as being “on the mend” or “over the hump,” but in my observation it is still very much threatened by them; by no means are the past and present inequities meaningfully reconciled. I saw this in Cape Town, in Durban and all the other areas of SA I’ve been. But I must say, Cape Town seemed to me the most progressive—certainly more than Durban—perhaps due to a higher raw number of service-sector economic opportunities there, and perhaps also due to the central role that Nelson Mandela has played in shaping that city’s recent identity (the prison that held him for 26 years sits just offshore on Robben Island, a tourist ferry ride from the Cape Town waterfront).

One last thought on this topic. As difficult as the US’s process of desegregation and racial reconciliation has been, I think South Africa’s society actually has it much, much harder. Too many reasons to get into here, but there are totally different dynamics going on, from language barriers to overlapping colonial footprints to oppressed majorities (not minorities)—so it’s not exactly comparable to the US’s struggles with race relations. They aren’t simply “40 years behind” in their Civil Rights struggle or something… theirs is a different kind of struggle.

7 reasons to love Cape Town

Last week we returned from an 8-day trip: a few days in Durban and 6 days in Cape Town.
We’re both a bit enamored with Cape Town, so I’ll now risk sounding like an over-zealous Tourist Bureau pamphlet to tell you 7 of our favorite things about it…

1. The geographic setting is awesome. the urban center and downtown neighborhoods stretch between Table Mountain National Park and the Atlantic Ocean. Beautiful seaside suburbs reach all around the Cape (most of which is protected Park land) and feature white sand beaches, lots of great surf spots, hiking trails and small-town vibes. There are as many pine trees as there are palm trees, lush vineyards, crisp trade winds and pleasant seasons, and lots of picture-perfect views. I cannot think of another big city so close to National Park trailheads… San Francisco comes to mind, with its proximity to ocean and hills, But even that falls short, both in proximity and sheer natural beauty.

2. The surf. I know I already mentioned it, but this place has the best surf options of any city I’ve ever visited. Over 40 legitimate spots spread all over two different coastlines: one on the western (and cold) side of the Cape of Good Hope, and one on the eastern side of it (warmer, seasonally dominated by Indian Ocean currents). What this means is, when the winds or swell directions are wrong for some spots they’ll probably be ideal for other spots—they have bays and beaches pointing in every possible direction and angle. The 40 nearest spots are all within about 30-40 minutes’ drive from the town center, and (get this) you’re within an easy day’s drive to the world famous perfection of Jeffery’s Bay. Heading east along the coast from Cape Town offers great Indian Ocean surf and small, friendly crowds. Hands-down the best surf town I’ve ever been. Biggest drawback—and it’s a big one: a healthy population of great white sharks lives in these waters. Durban has shark nets protecting its local beaches but Cape Town does not.

3. The Wineries. We didn’t even make the hour-drive out to Cape Town’s most famous vineyards of Stellenbosch, and the wineries still made this list. We elected instead to visit the ones closer in, along the eastern slopes that border the National Park in the leafy, upscale suburb of Costantia. From nice waves to nice wines in like 15 minutes. Free tastings, reasonable prices, Eden-like settings (one estate was established in 1682), friendly vintners… loved it.

4. Penguins. Down the Cape Peninsula on the southern end of a little Bayside town called Simon’s Town is a protected, breeding colony of African penguins. These things are ridiculously cute, full of personality, guaranteed to make you smile and laugh. I say they’re protected, but maybe that’s not quite accurate: for a small entrance fee we entered Boulder Beach (another national park I think) and we were able to sit right next to them—even swim with them in a protected little cove if we dared get in the frigid water. One area was more restricted (the actual nesting area), but the access we humans are allowed to these penguins is pretty incredible—and would not likely be allowed in the U.S. Still, mixed feelings and all, it was so cool to hang out with penguins.

5. Table Mountain National Park. I’ve already mentioned it, but it deserves its own little bullet point. Again, lots of access trails, fantastic views and dramatic aesthetics, unique geology and plant life… the definitive feature of Cape Town.

6. The Victoria and Albert Waterfront. It’s part of downtown’s waterfront and it’s a really cool mix of industrial, residential, and retail. Most of it is new and spruced up (maybe for the upcoming World Cup) and there was a lot to see and do—malls, museums, galleries, markets, coffeeshops and restaurants, marinas, etc. We bought new jackets down there… maybe that’s why I recall it so fondly.

7. Kistenbosch National Botanical Gardens. Established in 1913, this huge plot of land (528 hectares) near the University of Cape Town is partly cultivated/landscaped and partly nature/wilderness preserve. Hiking trails connect its upper slopes to bordering Table Mountain National Park, and Olmstedian pathways meander through its lower slopes, where 9,000 of southern Africa’s 22,000 plant species are grown in carefully manicured terrain. The landscape is sublime. It’s part of a World Heritage Site. I’ve never seen a park or garden grounds to rival this one—I don’t know what I could possibly say that could do this place justice… maybe just look at some pictures online.

We also liked various markets in/around the downtown’s City Bowl, and Green Point, and the beach suburbs of Camps Bay and Hout Bay and Muizenburg and Kalk Bay… visiting the tip of the Cape of Good Hope was cool, as was Signal Hill… but 6 days in Cape Town wasn’t quite enough time. We didn’t, for example, visit the prison on Robben Island (where Mandela was held) or the Stellenbosch wine region, and we didn’t do any downtown museums or galleries or explore the coastlines to the north or east (called the Garden Route). Maybe next time. If any of you comes to the southern Africa region, first thing you should do is contact us; second thing you should do is invite us to join you in Cape Town. We’ll say yes.

some Cape Town pics

penguins: Simon's Town

This is a beach in Simon's Town, a southern suburb of Cape Town.

NCP Volunteer Training Day with Red Cross

First Annual Youth Group Singing Competition

We’ve been working with a local youth organization to host a teen group singing competition here in Zombodze, and the event is coming up in about a month. I know you didn’t ask, but I’m going to tell you about it anyway.

The participants will write/compose an original song on the theme, “healthy living, healthy lives,” and perform it in front of a panel of 4 judges—3 of whom are well-known Swazi musicians. The grand prize: an all-expense paid trip to a professional recording studio in the capital city where they’ll get to record a 5-track demo CD. The CD will be produced by a popular Swazi musician/producer, DD Cool. Plus, the group will get to perform their winning song onstage at this year’s Live Life Music Festival, which is held in a big park in the capital city (second-place group will also get to perform there). Other prizes include T-shirts, local restaurant and grocery store vouchers, and a DVD of the event performances.

There are a wide range of song topics that fit the theme, from drug-free living to faithfulness/abstinence/safe sex, to respecting others and being role models. We’re giving the groups a lot of leeway, but we’ll check ahead of time (via registration forms) to ensure that their songs fit with the general theme. Our goal is to encourage an open, public exchange of ideas and attitudes about these topics, letting the youth be the messengers. We also want to encourage the abundance of musical talent in Zombodze, providing a venue to showcase it as well as provide an opportunity for the winners to meet some Swazi bigshots and learn a bit about the business. It’ll be a daylong event with lots of health-related information tables and guest speakers, and a mobile HIV testing and counseling unit will be located onsite—something we’re pretty serious about these days.

The local youth organization we’re working with is called Zombodze Youth in Action (ZYA). We’ve lined up some great partners in order to make this event happen: Red Cross, Population Services International (PSI), Dance with EMAFU (a Swazi non-profit), Zombodze Central High School, Nhlangano AIDS Training and Information Counseling Center (NATICC—they’ll provide a mobile HIV testing/counseling unit at the event), and of course the US Peace Corps. Our own afterschool club, Leaders in Health, will also help out, as well as Zombodze’s MP and Indvuna (elected officials), and plenty of local churches. We think it would be great if this turns into an annual event for ZYA and the community.

There are still a few small but important things for which we’re seeking financing: money to buy blank DVDs and blank Cds, and about $150 to cover grand-prize related expenses. So if this event is something you want to contribute to, you can! $25-$50 USD really goes a long way here… if interested drop me an email and I’ll send you some specifics: cooktimothy@hotmail.com.
As a thank you, we’ll send you a DVD of the event and a copy of the winning group’s CD.

Lists and big cities

Jamie-boy here. It’s a cloudy Sunday, March 15th, and we’ve sequestered ourselves inside our little home for the morning. We want to write some emails and get some paperwork ready for tomorrow, when I make a big trip north to the capital city. I’ll spend a few days there, having a few meetings and seeing an orthopedist about an achy leg (from all the jogging—it’s fine, just getting some advice on caring for it while training). And while I’m there I’ll be sending out emails and posting entries like this to the blog, checking various news websites to see what financial calamity has befallen America this week, indulging in big-city food like pizza slices and fried chicken.

This is a “big” trip not because the capital city is so far away; it’s actually only like 160km or so from us. But it takes a long time to get there—about 4 hours, using no less than 4 different public transport vehicles to get to PC headquarters in Mbabane. Compared to PCVs in other countries we have it easy here in the Swaziland, I know, but it’s still a real production to “head in,” especially because we want to get a lot done while there. As is usually the case when I go, Jamie-girl has prepared a list of all the tasks I want to accomplish and the items I need to get while there—PC office things and personal errands, internet tasks, special big-city grocery items, etc. I’ll actually be spending the night at a backpacker’s hostel in town just to have enough time to do everything and make the trip worthwhile.

She makes me the list because I’ve demonstrated a consistent pattern of forgetting to do things, neglecting to get things. I get to the city and maybe it’s all the traffic and people and seeing other PCVs in the office, but my mind goes blank. It’s all quite exciting, this going to town business, and apparently my memory is quite susceptible to excitement. So when I’m the one heading in, I adhere to Jamie-girl’s lists religiously, protecting them from harm or wandering eyes like a pirate guards a treasure map. Wandering eyes: I do not like people to know that I require a list from my wife to get by in the city, and I do not like people to know what items are on the list—it’s private and it’s our personal business and I’m not interested in discussing it with anyone. So I’m rather shy about pulling it out of my pocket to read and check, and I do so as inconspicuously as possible. Telling all of you about the list, in fact, is an oddly public confession. My name is Timothy Cook, and yes, I need a list from my wife when I go to town.

The state of the list will ultimately determine whether or not I had a successful trip into Mbabane. It will be pulled out when I get back home and reviewed; each item will be discussed—especially those items not crossed out. I would sooner lose my money than my list on these trips. I can always just go to an ATM in the big city and withdraw more money—bad, yes, but quite recoverable… but replacing the list would require a phonecall to Jamie-girl, an explanation (not likely to be very well crafted considering my state of panic), an attempt at recreating the list on-the-spot with frayed nerves and strained tones of voice… not to mention the troublesome thought that our private list is floating around somewhere, unguarded in the big city, free for anyone to find and read and perhaps pass around or send to one of those “Found” websites that post that kind of stuff.

This has never once happened to me, thank God. And if you’re reading this, it’s a good indication that I am still in possession of the list and successfully working my way through it: “post new entries to blog.” Check.

Katrina cleanup article

Back in 2005 I spent 3 months in New Orleans working on initial-phase recovery efforts after Hurricane Katrina. A while after returning I did some research on the city’s cleanup efforts and then wrote a paper about it. Eventually I submitted that paper to an academic journal and after various peer reviews it was accepted for publication, pending my replies to reviewer comments. So I’m happy to report that at long last my work on this project is done: the reviewing and revisions are complete and actual publication is at-hand.

My article is titled “Cleaning up New Orleans: the impact of a missing population on disaster debris removal” and it will appear in the upcoming March/April 2009 issue of Journal of Emergency Management (Vol. 7, No. 2).

I’d love to tell you where to get a copy, but I don’t really know. Where are academic journals sold? But if you’re interested, here’s the JEM homepage—a good place to start: http://www.pnpco.com/pn06001.html

Also, if you still want a copy of the May 2008 issue of Subtropics, the literary journal that published one of my nonfiction essays, here’s their website: http://www.english.ufl.edu/subtropics/

Babies back home

Since we’ve been in Swaziland 4 new babies have joined our group of friends and family. First to arrive was a cute little boy named Gabriel, then came Etienne, a beautiful baby boy, then came Allegra, a beautiful baby girl… and just within the past few weeks my brother and his wife welcomed their adorable little daughter into the world—Mya Grace Cook. Congratulations, newest parents!! We cannot wait to meet her in person.

So on the scorecard, it’s a tie ballgame right now: 2 for the boys and 2 for the girls. There is in fact a tie-breaker baby on the way (Jon & Jess)… is it a boy or a girl??

Yesterday Jamie-girl pointed out that there are nearly as many pics of babies on our wall-o-pictures as adults, despite the fact that we know far more adults than babies. It’s true: the babies and toddlers are disproportionately represented on the wall, and I think it’s unfair. We’ve known them for far less time than most other friends/family, and yet they’re getting top billing on the wall. But you know, it’s an injustice we’re both quite willing to overlook due to one overriding reason: these kids are really, really photogenic. I mean, they’re just cute—Lilly, Brennan, Gabriel, Mya, Etienne, Allegra—and I guess cuteness wins out. If any of you adult friends/family were as downright adorable as these kids are, then you too would dominate our wall-o-pictures… but the little ones have us all beat in that department.

And then there were 29

When our volunteer group arrived here in Swaziland there were 36 of us. Now, just over 8 months later, there are 29 of us left. So about 19% have gone back home for various reasons. I fully expect that percentage to increase over time. In fact, the group that arrived before us, now in their final months of service, have lost nearly half of their volunteers. I’d be surprised if our group loses that many, but volunteers going home early pretty common here in Swaziland… and us remaining PCVs hate to say goodbye. The news almost always comes as a bit of a shock, and in many cases it involves saying goodbye to someone we’ve grown to care about—someone we’re going to miss.

Fact is, this PCV thing can be quite hard. Our locations, work opportunities and personal issues vary greatly from person to person. And many leave due to situations back home—most of them entirely out of their direct control. We’re fortunate enough to have each other here in Swaziland, and to have great support and stability from friends and family back home. But some PCVs simply don’t, and it can make this kind of service abroad quite difficult.

So I’d like to say hi to any Group 6 Swaziland ex-PCVs who might be reading this blog from back home in the States: Beth, Drew, Jarrod, Amanda, Vanessa, Sara, and Tom—we miss you guys. Tom, thanks for bequeathing us your Chicago Tribune crossword book; you’re alright for a young whippersnapper. Kevin cries quietly into a lap-pillow during long meetings now that you’re not by his side and I think he needs a visit from Clowns Without Borders—maybe you can set something up. Beth, take a trip down to Ashland when you get the chance and send us a really cheesy postcard (and maybe some current real estate listings?). Drew, your departure marked a double tragedy for us remaining Group 6ers: our overall group height significantly decreased, and Jay lost his hair-twin. Miss you, man.

And Meredith from Group 5, if you’re out there—hi there! We didn’t get to say goodbye. Swaziland isn’t the same without Versailles… we got a big red towel from the massive give-away that your departure triggered. Hope all is well with you.

Anyway, there are still plenty of PCVs here in Swaziland, and there are about to be about 40 new ones, set to arrive in June. Just as it’s sad to see friends go, it’s exciting to see new ones come. This has been much more of a social experience than we ever imagined—and we’re site-rats compared to some PCVs.

Truthfully, the time is flying by for us, and we’re going to need every day we can get in Swaziland just to do the things we’ve already planned. So for the record: we’re here for the long-haul.

we went for a hike

Two weekends ago we joined 5 other PCVs for a hiking/camping trip in Swaziland’s Malalotja Nature Reserve. Finally: a good reason to buy myself a big bush knife.



The trails in Malalotja are pretty well overgrown this time of year (grass up to 9 feet tall), and according to the main entrance registry we were the only people in the whole park. On the first day we walked along open, grassy ridges and hillsides and then descended deep into the rocky gorge of a swift-moving river, reaching our shady little riverside campsite at dusk. We spent the next day exploring the gorge and adjoining valley… just beautiful. At night I spent an inordinate amount of time sharpening my new knife, trying out various types of river stones to see which worked best.


About 1/2 km downriver from our campsite was a 35-foot waterfall, sheer and wide and thunderous in the narrow gorge, spilling into a large pool below. We scampered down the granite slopes to the pool’s edge and swam in and out of the current—not too cold, not too hot. On the opposite side of the waterfall was a bare granite cliff with a rounded, overhanging edge. I swam over to its base and dove beneath the surface to check the pool’s depth: didn’t find the bottom. Perfect—deep enough for some cliff-jumping. So I picked my way back up to the waterfall’s top, swam across a calm little section of river about 10 meters above the falls (by far the most nerve-racking part of this adventure) and made the first jump off the cliff with a couple of friends.

I’ve always been a sucker for jumping into water from cliffs and bridges, and this 35-foot cliff wasn’t high enough to warrant any dread—just big smiles. The real thrill for me was jumping alongside that roaring waterfall. One of the guys who jumped with me is an expert whitewater kayaker. He checked out the water flow in the pool (and in the crossing above the waterfall) and showed me where it was and was not safe to swim… given our remote location, I wouldn’t have done it without his trained eye helping out. Anyway, it was fun (and safe) enough that I did it twice more before leaving.

About 50 meters downriver from that pool was another waterfall, this one about twice as high. But there was no obvious route down to the pool below, so we just peered over the edge and enjoyed the view.

Malalotja is home to a lot of wildlife— plenty of rare African birds and about 63 species of mammals, including baboons, eland, wildebeest and hartebeest, oribi, aardwolf, and even a small herd of elephants (which came in from South Africa some years ago and have apparently bred successfully in one of the park’s larger, more remote valleys). We didn’t see any elephants or leopards, but loud baboon barks were common, echoing off the steep rock walls around our campsite. They sound like dogs, minus the howl. The most common animal we encountered were not welcome: ticks. With the grass so tall and thick it’s tick season here in Swaziland (a handful of PCVs have had to deal with tick-bite fever). So we’d stop pretty frequently to check for ticks and brush them off before they had a chance to bite.

The trails in Malalotja are currently so overgrown that it was a real chore just to stay on them. Bushwhacking was unavoidable. One morning, four of us set out to go see some huge waterfalls a few hours’ hike upriver from camp, but we couldn’t follow the trail. After an hour and a half of traveling we weren’t even 1/4 of the way there: we’d spent most of our time bushwhacking through a broad, bowl-shaped field of high grass and ferns after our trail had disappeared into a maze of elusive game trails. So we made our way to a clearing (where we actually found the trail again), ate apples and nursed our wounds, then turned back for camp—and the swimming hole.

Anyway, we hope to return and explore other parts of this beautiful park, especially in the winter when the trails are easier to follow.