With such a pretentious and straightforward title as I have given this post, it would be correct to suppose an equally pretentious and descriptive note, but I have no intentions on doing that. While I could go on about how the air now smells of the hot, late summer sun beating down on the over ripe peaches, saturating the air with their sweet and pungent smell, or how the children, in attempts to soak up the last rays of the summer sun, run, shoeless, with smiles so big you can spot their white teeth miles away, or how at the clinic I still no longer need shoes because the grass remains as thick as carpet allowing me to stroll (I mean still with caution, they do let the cow free to graze on the grounds) barefoot. But, as my service has since entered the home stretch, I find myself spending hours in thought, mainly because of the lack of work, but also to make myself come to the realization that my time here is dwindling down.
Of late many of my thoughts revolve around going home, for good. It is strange to think about when I get home I will be there for good and will have to make solid plans for my “future.” I am, admittedly, not very proactive about my future, in fact, Peace Corps was used by me as a deterrent from having to be proactive about my future. However, my time has now come to do just that. And, I never really thought I would want to admit to this, but I am fully excited to go home and be a cater waiter, or barista, or whatever job I can find to fill the gap between Peace Corps and the “next step.” Leaving one thing to begin another, kind of makes me feel like I am in a state of limbo, where beginning and ending overlap. In one case I am in my home in Lesotho, writing up and proofreading my resume and researching school programs and on the other hand I am wrapping up my projects, handing responsibility over to others and realizing what little time I do have left. It is weird but those observations consume the majority of my day, well, until evening reaches me and my attention is given exclusively to either Mad Men, Gossip Girl, 30 Rock, The Office, or Glee. Another quick observation, which is weird, I watch way more T.V. here than I ever did at home. And I love it.
One other observation is that while I knew it was true, I always took it as a given and never really paid it real attention until the other day. I was hoping off my taxi, entitled the “Passion Wagon,” with my bag of groceries and back pack and one of the ladies from the clinic who was at the Jakaranda, which is right by my stop, was immediately by my side helping me to carry my load. While this is a small gesture, it was greatly appreciated by me and she refused any help from me during the short walk to my house. In her help I realized she, along with the others I see on a day-to-day basis, have kind of accepted me as one of them, not just the weird white lady they have to help out. I guess what was more impressive is that I was able to speak good conversation to her in Sesotho the whole way (which in turn gave me the confidence to add “Intermediate speaking level in Sesotho” to my resume, in the case anyone back in the states would need help in Sesotho, doubtful though.). I will really miss this unique camaraderie I have developed with the people here, with my departure inching closer, I am beginning to realize that I will probably never experience ever again.
What is more surprising is that with all that is currently going on now for me, one real question remains. During an evening spent at another volunteer’s house, many of us slightly intoxicated, the question was brought up, “In a fight, who would win, Hans Solo or Indiana Jones?” This is yet another time consuming observation of late. While the actual question in itself is indeed puzzling, I mean you are basically asked, if you were in a fight, what would you more highly value, brains (Indiana Jones, of course) or technology (Hans Solo), and please feel free to weigh in on this topic by emailing me your thoughts. I’m currently taking a pole, and so far in populations back home and in Peace Corps Lesotho, Indiana Jones is winning out. But what it made me realize, is that in that in the deep cultural and personal experience of living outside of your culture and submerging yourself in one totally different from everything you know, I have seen more Volunteers get into heated, practically violent, arguments over this topic than others you would think we would pay more attention to, such as corruption or AIDS. What this had forced me to realize is that why you may come here to expand your horizons with complete submersion in such an intense setting with such serious issues, once here all you really search for is escape because at the end of the day you get it. This is not novelty, this is not the just seeing the commercials of starving children or the nice photos of celebrities reading to underprivileged kids, this is the reality of life for people here and, while it is not my permanent reality, the knowledge that this is the reality for people I know here is depressing and warrants an escape. Enter Hans Solo and Indiana Jones. I know when I was home for Christmas it was easy to forget about this place and the reality of it, I really hope I don’t forget it when I am home for good. I mean, yes, memories will fade, but to remember the real situations that people are put in here on a daily basis is something I most definitely want to take with me, and one I wish I could accurately describe to people back home. As I found when I was home, this is next to impossible, unless you have some sort of experience similar, it is just so removed for what it is like at home, that it is hard to know even where to begin.
With all of these I have just one more, I woke up this morning to a full on fall day. I know this for two reasons, it is cloudy without any rain and I have all the early symptoms of a full on sinus infection, which I only get when the seasons change. So I think I will hole up in my house for the rest of the day, drink a chai tea and wait for the rain to come, which I am assuming it will, because I figured out how to tell the weather here. Every morning I ask the Basotho what the weather will be like, and I prepare for the exact opposite. They are rarely right, and I assume this because they get their weather from South African news and Lesotho is represented, at least on the T.V. as a big black abyss, which also accounts for why some South Africans don’t know where Lesotho is. Hmm.
Anyways, as always, have a wonderful weekend. I hope the cold and snow and blizzards are starting to die off and the tundra that is the United States melts away. Even though I greatly dislike snow and the cold, I’m kind of excited to return for at least one more Midwestern winter. So that being said, take care and salang hantle!!!
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