what a day...

today was full of very different occurrences. i use the word "different" because they were definitely all new to me.

once a month elderly people in south africa receive their pensions. i think that this is about 700 rand per month, which is about $90-$95 dollars. the women get their pensions as 60, while the men get theirs at 65--something the government is going to equalize soon. the pension day in each pick up point (where the money is distributed) basically turns into a carnival by about 10AM. Sellers of chickens, fruit, vegetables, clothes, and odds and ends descend the area where the money is being distributed (this is usually by village). the pick up point for my entire village is directly across the dirt road from my house. which means that on the first monday of every month there are cars blocking my street and entrance to my house and about 300 people condensed into a very small space. today i decided to walk into the heart of the bazaar with my coworkers because they needed to buy airtime (for their cell phones) and i was interested in the goings-on. because i am rather new to this community some people were seeing me for the first time. (their initial thoughts: WHAT IS A WHITE PERSON DOING HERE??? haha.) so at first it was nice, people greeting me, etc. we walked to the bottle (liquor) store across from me to get the airtime. Usually this place is deserted, but on pension day becomes the epicenter of the festivities. grannies and younger women kept coming up to me and greeting me and shaking my hand, kissing me (on the face or hand), thanking me for being there, or just introducing themselves (i would say this happened at least 30-40 times in about 15 minutes). i really appreciate gogos (grannies in zulu)--they usually (99% of the time) love me--therefore this is my favorite demographic in south africa. i think they just appreciate the fact that a white person is living in their midst-- because of apartheid something they never thought they would live to see. however, as i started walking away from the store i continually was pressed upon by about 15 drunk men who kept wanting to shake my hand (and wouldn't stop until i pulled away) or just following me and yelling crazy things in zulu. my coworkers thought this was hilarious. i, on the other hand, really didn't. as we were walking back to my work people were shouting my name and waving eagerly. the crowd was so packed it was hard to walk down the street. later, when i was driving through the crowd with my supervisor people were yelling and waving some more. craziness. in these situations i like to reflect about what it would be like to be a really famous person or maybe the beatles in the 60's. i do not think i could handle it.

one thing i definitely love about these days is the "african feel". while my village definitely feels "african" and my town does too, some parts of south africa could be mistaken for the united states (cape town, joburg, pretoria, durban). for instance, if you closed your eyes in some parts of durban you might think you were in san diego. the market, the people shouting, the crushing bodies and the friendship of all the community members is really great. it feels like a real market, instead of the one i shop at which feels pretty american, except that they really dont sell anything that i wish they did. the best part of this whole experience was when i was walking to my supervisor's car she was carrying a live chicken in a plastic bag (its little head was sticking out, staring at me). she then opened the trunk of her brand new VW jetta and put the bag (clucking and all) into the trunk (along with a chicken she had been holding by the legs), like it was no big deal. hilarious! before heading to town we dropped the chickens off in her garage so her niece would cook them for dinner.

after dropping off the chicken we drove down a path to find a house of a community member. my supervisor got out of the car to find the house (she really wasn't sure where it was) so she could pick someone up to take to town. about ten minutes later my supervisor comes back to the car with three gogos,a young girl, and what looks like an unconscious woman in a wheelbarrow. after we struggle for about 5 minutes to get the woman in the car, two of the gogos get into the car and are supporting the woman, who has now started to moan and breathe very very heavily. as we sped off into town to the hospital i wonder what would happen if my center was not in the community? would this woman die? what if someone in our area had a neck injury and couldn't be moved without the help of an ambulance or trained professionals? what would happen to them? thinking about this kind of thing on the way to town made me enormously proud to be working at my organization, to be in the peace corps, and to be giving up a plush and fun life in the US to do this work. seeing what we do up close for those who need it most makes you feel this way. i think i will go on more home visits.

the most amazing part of transporting the woman was how laid back the gogos seemed. they were so nice to me and so thankful and happy to be receiving this ride. even though something (i thought) very scary was going on, they were able to joke and smile. it makes you think about how much illness and death these women must have encountered in their lives and how strong they must be if this is how they act in crisis.

come to africa and experience this new life i have. it is amazing.

<3