Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday. By far.
It has been a bit of a culture shock today to meet people, greet them with "Happy Thanksgiving", and hear virtually nothing in return. Obviously, South Africa needs me, if only to teach them about this eating contest every November. Maybe next year I'll write a grant for some turkey and stuffing. At least a can of cranberry sauce.
I had a great day today; I took a day trip to Richard's Bay with a couple other volunteers, exploring a mall (this is a big deal when your nearest shop has goats living in it) and reveling in being American.
Some things are different about the malls in South Africa; for one, you have to pay to use the restroom. (Yeah...I know). It's not much - R2, or about fifteen cents back home - and when I saw flush toilets and sinks with running water to wash your hands as wastefully as your heart desires, I had to smile, step back and wonder how my standards have changed so drastically in a few months. To be thankful - even willing to pay! - for a real bathroom experience again, on Thanksgiving Day, made me wonder about other things of which I'm thankful.
1) I'm thankful to live in a village where being (somewhat) socially awkward is misconstrued as being culturally unaware. I'm really going to miss this back Stateside.
2) I'm thankful for my wonderful learners, the staff, educators, and community of which I am becoming a part of, here in South Africa. It is for them I'm here, and I do my best everyday not to forget it.
3) I'm thankful for Stoney Ginger Beer; it's the strongest soda I've ever had, like drinking ginger concentrate. There are many, many foods I will never miss about South Africa. This is not one of them.
4) I'm thankful for the fact that, even in the most rural stretches of the world, there are still stunningly beautiful women. This speaks for itself.
5) I'm thankful for all my loved ones. The emails / letters/ phone calls keep me through, and sane, more than you realize.
6) I'm thankful for the occasional night occasional night when the shaky power goes out. On those nights I can see the stars clearer than ever.
About three weeks ago, I started volunteering at a local HIV clinic in a neighboring village with another volunteer. Men, women, even children from surrounding villages - often with no means of transport - come here for testing, medication, and counseling on life with a chronic illness. Nervous patients wait for blood tests to learn if they've contracted the disease; others, some visibly ravaged by the effects, wait for hours for free ARV medication supplied from the government to prolong and improve their quality of life. In the ongoing struggle with this devastating epidemic ravaging Southern Africa, these are the front lines: a small, rural clinic resembling a middle school portable on the side of a pothole strewn tar road, run entirely by volunteers, government donations, and faith.
Each day before the clinic opens at 8, the people gather in a semicircle of broken plastic lawn chairs, and sing hymns of praise that are among the most poignantly beautiful songs I have ever heard, a glimpse of the immediacy of human life. Seemingly they have no connection to one another but tribal ancestry and modern ailment. Yet for a few moments each Monday and Wednesday, they sing together, for one another, and - though I do not know the words - I hear no despair in their voices. They smile. They laugh. They still remain human beings. They face mountains I can hardly imagine, and still they climb. Ever hopeful, ever thankful.
Enjoy today, your food, your homes, your loved ones - wherever they are and wherever you are. Always keep learning. Always be thankful.
Power's going out soon. Time for some much needed star gazin'.
-Ryan
Thursday, November 25, 2010
Wednesday, October 13, 2010
10/13/2010
I've been pretty bored today. I've been working on revisions in math, physical sciences, and English for the grade 12 learners (see my previous post for some info on what physical science is like) alongside my normal observation period...but since I still don't have my own classes yet, I've got a lot of free time on my hands while the other educators are busy marking exams. Free time is bad when you're me. I'm kind of Bon Jovi, minus the hair and voice and money: all I do is think. Want to know about what? No? Well, then skip this post.
I said in a previous post that I wouldn't talk about my feelings during PST until some time had passed. This is only fair. PST was a microcosm of Peace Corps experience as a whole, I'm inclined to believe, although seen through skewed, bloodshot eyes. It's supposed to be a way to dip your feet into the waters of South Africa without the shock of the freezing plunge. And yet, despite their best efforts, we were submerged. You could call it a baptism, admitting and perhaps cleansing the preconceptions you did not know you had. Enough time has passed on this, that I think it's safe to look.
I've been wrestling with a couple ideas since PST that are, I feel, not unrelated; the concept of Who is an African and the concept of Feeling the color of my skin. I can't cover both of these in one post. I can't cover both of these in one lifetime. They are fed by outlooks prone to change, adapt and evolve over the course of my service in South Africa and beyond. So this post is only going to be about Feeling White. About the sensation - never felt so prevalently before - of literally wearing my skin. I remember walking the streets of my village and hearing children yell "kua, kua!" after me. Men and women only cared to approach me - or distance themselves from me - because of my race, and told me to my face. I was seen only for what Being White meant for them. It's not a battle I ever thought I would fight, inside my own head. Coming to my homestay one day after training at the College, I told my host mother (in broken Zulu) "I am not kua. I am Ryan."
One exercise during training was to create an agreement spectrum - two extremes were chosen (I agree or I do not agree) with the statement read, and every trainee walked along the spectrum, distinguishing themselves by how much they agreed or not. When the statement "I'm proud of my race" was read, I was the only white person who agreed.
I suppose I could be controversial...this is the Internet, so why not? I'm proud to be white. There is history and culture, ancestry and tradition, sorrow and love and loss and hope inseparably infused into who I am and where I come from. I am not proud of injustice. I am not proud of segregation, of genocide and discrimination which smears a people's stereotype on a person's inner truth. But I did not come to Africa to turn my life into an apology for racial injustice by teaching English classes; to me, this implies the belief that the people of rural South Africa cannot stand on their own without foreign help. I believe they can. No, in fact, I know they can; I see them do it every day. My job is to help them realize this potential. When all is said and done, humanitarian work should not be about what I do for them; it should be about what they have done for themselves. Africa does not need to be saved. She is far too proud for that.
It's taken my time in South Africa - and what little time it's really been - to even broach this concept for myself. I have heard about it extensively from the African American perspective back in the States; where a black man consciously feels black, and the weight that history and prejudice brings with it. It's not a burden I would choose.
I will never be an African American, and I will never fully relate to that experience. But, as one PCV put it, I am becoming an American African, and I can begin to feel this new weight growing. And I wonder, is it new to me here? Or has it been there, unrealized, all along?
Welcome to my South Africa. Send me peanut butter.
Ryan
I said in a previous post that I wouldn't talk about my feelings during PST until some time had passed. This is only fair. PST was a microcosm of Peace Corps experience as a whole, I'm inclined to believe, although seen through skewed, bloodshot eyes. It's supposed to be a way to dip your feet into the waters of South Africa without the shock of the freezing plunge. And yet, despite their best efforts, we were submerged. You could call it a baptism, admitting and perhaps cleansing the preconceptions you did not know you had. Enough time has passed on this, that I think it's safe to look.
I've been wrestling with a couple ideas since PST that are, I feel, not unrelated; the concept of Who is an African and the concept of Feeling the color of my skin. I can't cover both of these in one post. I can't cover both of these in one lifetime. They are fed by outlooks prone to change, adapt and evolve over the course of my service in South Africa and beyond. So this post is only going to be about Feeling White. About the sensation - never felt so prevalently before - of literally wearing my skin. I remember walking the streets of my village and hearing children yell "kua, kua!" after me. Men and women only cared to approach me - or distance themselves from me - because of my race, and told me to my face. I was seen only for what Being White meant for them. It's not a battle I ever thought I would fight, inside my own head. Coming to my homestay one day after training at the College, I told my host mother (in broken Zulu) "I am not kua. I am Ryan."
One exercise during training was to create an agreement spectrum - two extremes were chosen (I agree or I do not agree) with the statement read, and every trainee walked along the spectrum, distinguishing themselves by how much they agreed or not. When the statement "I'm proud of my race" was read, I was the only white person who agreed.
I suppose I could be controversial...this is the Internet, so why not? I'm proud to be white. There is history and culture, ancestry and tradition, sorrow and love and loss and hope inseparably infused into who I am and where I come from. I am not proud of injustice. I am not proud of segregation, of genocide and discrimination which smears a people's stereotype on a person's inner truth. But I did not come to Africa to turn my life into an apology for racial injustice by teaching English classes; to me, this implies the belief that the people of rural South Africa cannot stand on their own without foreign help. I believe they can. No, in fact, I know they can; I see them do it every day. My job is to help them realize this potential. When all is said and done, humanitarian work should not be about what I do for them; it should be about what they have done for themselves. Africa does not need to be saved. She is far too proud for that.
It's taken my time in South Africa - and what little time it's really been - to even broach this concept for myself. I have heard about it extensively from the African American perspective back in the States; where a black man consciously feels black, and the weight that history and prejudice brings with it. It's not a burden I would choose.
I will never be an African American, and I will never fully relate to that experience. But, as one PCV put it, I am becoming an American African, and I can begin to feel this new weight growing. And I wonder, is it new to me here? Or has it been there, unrealized, all along?
Welcome to my South Africa. Send me peanut butter.
Ryan
Monday, September 27, 2010
9/27/2010
What do you think makes a good PB&J? Once upon a time, I was convinced it was the jelly. After experimenting further here, I believe that it's actually the bread. I've been thinking about this every morning as I walk to school. Is there a perfect pb&j, or are there only increasingly better pb&j's???
I've been at site for just over a week now; Peace Corps has some 'guidelines' for how much we should talk about our location (security risk, et al). I will say the name of my site translates - loosely - into English as "In danger". I take this as a good sign...stay positive.
The village is beautiful; it's green (a color I was starting to assume did not exist in South Africa), and lush. It's spread out over rolling hills dotted with palms, sand paths and banana groves.
I've been going to the school for the last few days; there are nearly 1000 learners and about 30 teachers. This is massive by rural South African standards. Everyone has been rushing to finish the term and exams after the strike, so I've been trying to figure things out on my own a little more.
I learned this new word...invigillate? Invigilate? Envigilate? Angazi, idk. Whatever. It means to watch a class testing. I know, I was as disappointed as you are when I realized it's not a spell from Harry Potter.
Speaking of exams...holy crap. South Africans have it tough. So I've been helping the Grade 12 learners review for their Matric, the national test that determines if they pass and graduate. Specifically, I've been helping with Physical Science. I learned today (during my lesson) that they are responsible for: Mechanics, Thermodynamics, E&M, some relativity, General and Organic Chem, some P Chem (!!), Mechanics of Materials, and history of science.
All this, in three years. One class. And to top it off, they are learning it in English, not their native tongue. Imagine learning college level Chemistry and Physics - in Japanese - in high school, and you will get a glimpse of what these kids are going through.
Now imagine it all comes down to one test...12 years of schooling, one test. My heart just skipped. Or it didn't. I'm not actually sure.
So, to the thousands of SA who read my blog, know that I am here for you, to do what I can as you prepare. But I definitely do not envy you.
If you'll excuse me, I've got a sandwich to make.
-monaghan
I've been at site for just over a week now; Peace Corps has some 'guidelines' for how much we should talk about our location (security risk, et al). I will say the name of my site translates - loosely - into English as "In danger". I take this as a good sign...stay positive.
The village is beautiful; it's green (a color I was starting to assume did not exist in South Africa), and lush. It's spread out over rolling hills dotted with palms, sand paths and banana groves.
I've been going to the school for the last few days; there are nearly 1000 learners and about 30 teachers. This is massive by rural South African standards. Everyone has been rushing to finish the term and exams after the strike, so I've been trying to figure things out on my own a little more.
I learned this new word...invigillate? Invigilate? Envigilate? Angazi, idk. Whatever. It means to watch a class testing. I know, I was as disappointed as you are when I realized it's not a spell from Harry Potter.
Speaking of exams...holy crap. South Africans have it tough. So I've been helping the Grade 12 learners review for their Matric, the national test that determines if they pass and graduate. Specifically, I've been helping with Physical Science. I learned today (during my lesson) that they are responsible for: Mechanics, Thermodynamics, E&M, some relativity, General and Organic Chem, some P Chem (!!), Mechanics of Materials, and history of science.
All this, in three years. One class. And to top it off, they are learning it in English, not their native tongue. Imagine learning college level Chemistry and Physics - in Japanese - in high school, and you will get a glimpse of what these kids are going through.
Now imagine it all comes down to one test...12 years of schooling, one test. My heart just skipped. Or it didn't. I'm not actually sure.
So, to the thousands of SA who read my blog, know that I am here for you, to do what I can as you prepare. But I definitely do not envy you.
If you'll excuse me, I've got a sandwich to make.
-monaghan
Thursday, September 16, 2010
Officially a Volunteer :)
It happened. Finally. I finished training. I'm a PCV.
Oh...how rude of me. Hello, how are you? Sanibonani, ninjani? Dumelang, le kai? It's been awhile, friends. So the last month and...well, and a month, has been - everywhere. I can't come up with one single adjective to cover it. I wash my clothes by hand now; I bathed in a bucket, and pretty much handled all my other business in a pit in the backyard. It's not so bad, really. No splashback.
So what can I say for training? About 40 hours a week of information, ranging from the local language (Zulu for myself) to technical sessions on being an effective teacher in the South African context, to safety and medical sessions. I don't want to write too much about my experience in PST, as it literally finished yesterday and I haven't had enough time to digest it, process it, and prepackage it for your entertainment. Give me at least a month on that one; but don't worry. It'll be good.
So I'm stuck. I have serious writer's block right now. No joke. Hard to believe, right? I guess I could write about the incredible dichotomy between the first world standards in the urban sprawl of Pretoria and the rural outpost villages where witch doctors are still common and feared. I could talk about the 4 hour wedding, and dancing to the spontaneous singing that filled the church. I could talk about pap and chicken....actually, I'd rather not talk about pap and chicken. Not yet.
I could talk about the first time I felt myself as 'white' for the first time in the village. For the first time, I felt self conscious of a trait that I had no control over. I think this is one of those unexpected road blocks that comes up in cultural collisions; I could get past the lack of water for four days, my host mom's constant nagging to iron my clothes, and even the huge spiders that stalk me...but that feeling, that was tough.
I could talk about my experience at the Voortrekker Museum, and my experiencing the Afrikaner culture. How I have asked myself, who is truly an African? How many generations of family living in South Africa before you were born are required to consider yourself an African? Does someone of white descent have any less claim to the land now than indigenous Africans? Would that, in turn, endanger my claim of being American? These are all questions I still wrestle with.
I could talk about playing teaching about a hundred 4th and 5th graders how to properly dance, the Ryan way, in a school courtyard at lunch. They were pretty good, I have to be honest. Not as good as me, but they're getting there.
I could talk about slaughtering my first cow. Actually...nah, I'll wait on that one. Didn't smell though. Aren't you glad? I sure as hell was.
There's a lot I could talk about. But I've got a while, so I'll space it out. For now, I'll just say its had its good moments, its had its bad moments.
I scored an advanced level on my Zulu language skills. Sorry, I have to brag. :)
I miss you. Yes, you. Homesickness - and I probably don't really need to go off on that again - comes and goes, but really, I feel somedays like I'm missing a vital part of myself, without the people I care so deeply about to share the experience directly. I guess that's what the internet is for; talking to the wind, and hoping it answers back.
I'll leave it at that, for tonight.
Ngikuthanda nengikukhulumba.
:)
-Monaghan
Tuesday, July 13, 2010
Staging
I just accidentally all of staging.
^
So yea...staging was pretty sweet. Like cotton candy covered in whipped cream sweet. Only if that's real whip cream though. Is it whip cream or whipped cream? This is important.
Staging is intense, and flies fast. I've met most of my fellow trainees (there are about 53 of us, I think? ) and everyone I've talked to is pretty awesome. Awesome, enough, that I should put awe some as two separate words. My roommate, for example, discussed Godel's proofs with me over dinner. He just told me I shouldn't write about him. His name is Mike. He doesn't know I'm blogging about him...and when he reads this, he'll be surprised it's not about a Spanish speaking agent from Washington State.
So yeah, Staging. Got some vaccinations, had a lot of discussions about what to expect in service which culminated in...have no expectations. Go with it. I think that's pretty much the way I've tried to approach it, as best as possible, but obviously I have my weaknesses. I like my creature comforts. I like youtube. I like conditioner. I like KFC...and I'm leaving without ever having the double down. :(
If I learned anything from reading Fear and Loathing (Hunter Thompson's masterpiece, read it if you have an open mind), it's that sometimes you just need to buy the ticket, and take the ride. Don't do the drugs, per se, but open your mind to the possibilities beyond the immediacies in front of you. The world is yearning for you to hop in, and just see what happens. I've got a great support system here now, with people who are diving in just like me, trying to have no expectations. And, what's even better, is I've got a great support system back in the states. Good friends are hard to come by. Thanks for coming by? lol (I said lol as I typed this. I didn't actually lol)
After this, is pre service training. That will last for a few weeks, ending in either late August or early/mid September (I really am not too sure. I've heard different information from different sources...again, no expectations).
Please write. Send me letters, postcards, business cards, photo ids, gum wrappers (with unchewed gum still in them, I will miss gum the most). If you're up for playing mail chess, or any game over the mail, I'm totally down. I've got about 3 takers write now.
My address is in a previous post...I think from a couple days ago.
Be eazzzzy like George and Wheezy,
-Ryan Monaghan
Please write. M
P.S. Mrs. A, thanks for the cookies.
^
So yea...staging was pretty sweet. Like cotton candy covered in whipped cream sweet. Only if that's real whip cream though. Is it whip cream or whipped cream? This is important.
Staging is intense, and flies fast. I've met most of my fellow trainees (there are about 53 of us, I think? ) and everyone I've talked to is pretty awesome. Awesome, enough, that I should put awe some as two separate words. My roommate, for example, discussed Godel's proofs with me over dinner. He just told me I shouldn't write about him. His name is Mike. He doesn't know I'm blogging about him...and when he reads this, he'll be surprised it's not about a Spanish speaking agent from Washington State.
So yeah, Staging. Got some vaccinations, had a lot of discussions about what to expect in service which culminated in...have no expectations. Go with it. I think that's pretty much the way I've tried to approach it, as best as possible, but obviously I have my weaknesses. I like my creature comforts. I like youtube. I like conditioner. I like KFC...and I'm leaving without ever having the double down. :(
If I learned anything from reading Fear and Loathing (Hunter Thompson's masterpiece, read it if you have an open mind), it's that sometimes you just need to buy the ticket, and take the ride. Don't do the drugs, per se, but open your mind to the possibilities beyond the immediacies in front of you. The world is yearning for you to hop in, and just see what happens. I've got a great support system here now, with people who are diving in just like me, trying to have no expectations. And, what's even better, is I've got a great support system back in the states. Good friends are hard to come by. Thanks for coming by? lol (I said lol as I typed this. I didn't actually lol)
After this, is pre service training. That will last for a few weeks, ending in either late August or early/mid September (I really am not too sure. I've heard different information from different sources...again, no expectations).
Please write. Send me letters, postcards, business cards, photo ids, gum wrappers (with unchewed gum still in them, I will miss gum the most). If you're up for playing mail chess, or any game over the mail, I'm totally down. I've got about 3 takers write now.
My address is in a previous post...I think from a couple days ago.
Be eazzzzy like George and Wheezy,
-Ryan Monaghan
Please write. M
P.S. Mrs. A, thanks for the cookies.
Sunday, July 11, 2010
Packin'
I enjoy blogging. It's like talking to yourself in front of the endless landfill that is the internet.
As I stare at my ever growing pile of stuff and my seemingly ever shrinking luggage, I'm beginning to wonder if it's possible to shrink my 3 dimensional belongings to a Cantor dust...ORRRRR maybe I can say that, if the set of my items is infinite (which I think they are, at this point), BUT I can still count them (giving them cardinality aleph-null like N), the dimension is zero and I don't have to pack them at all. That will either save me all my baggage fees...or cost me an infinite amount of money for the infinite size of the luggage, depending on whether the airline's scales examine it in 0,1,2 or 3 dimensions.
(^-^)
Here's a few blurbs of advice to future Peace Corps volunteers, or world travelers:
1) Play Tetris. It comes in handy when you start packing.
2) When people offer you free things because of your journey...take them. They'll feel better about contributing to your service, and you get stuff/food. It's a win-win.
3) Tie up loose ends. This is a must do. Probably the greatest life lesson I've learned is leave no task or relationship incomplete. It's like taking a shower for the soul.
And most importantly...at least so far -
4) Never make close friends, because saying goodbye is hard. It's really, really hard. And if you're like me - a hopeless romantic already - it doesn't get any easier.
As my friends...and yes, faithful reader, you are one of them...while you are losing someone to Africa, remember that I am losing you to America.
As Gandalf would say, "I will not say, do not weep; for not all tears are an evil." I've cried more in the last four days than I have for...maybe forever? But it's been wonderful, wonderful, wonderful. You've touched someone half a world away. How cool is that?!
OK...this is not helping me pack much. Real advice: Don't pack books? I dunno. I'll try and give more advice when I get out there. Right now, though...packing.
Oh, wait, real advice...PACKING TAKES A LONG DAMN TIME. Don't procrastinate.
This will probably be my last entry from Florida for...a while. I'll try and update once more up in Staging in Philadelphia.
Check yourself before you wreck yourself,
Ryan Monaghan
As I stare at my ever growing pile of stuff and my seemingly ever shrinking luggage, I'm beginning to wonder if it's possible to shrink my 3 dimensional belongings to a Cantor dust...ORRRRR maybe I can say that, if the set of my items is infinite (which I think they are, at this point), BUT I can still count them (giving them cardinality aleph-null like N), the dimension is zero and I don't have to pack them at all. That will either save me all my baggage fees...or cost me an infinite amount of money for the infinite size of the luggage, depending on whether the airline's scales examine it in 0,1,2 or 3 dimensions.
(^-^)
Here's a few blurbs of advice to future Peace Corps volunteers, or world travelers:
1) Play Tetris. It comes in handy when you start packing.
2) When people offer you free things because of your journey...take them. They'll feel better about contributing to your service, and you get stuff/food. It's a win-win.
3) Tie up loose ends. This is a must do. Probably the greatest life lesson I've learned is leave no task or relationship incomplete. It's like taking a shower for the soul.
And most importantly...at least so far -
4) Never make close friends, because saying goodbye is hard. It's really, really hard. And if you're like me - a hopeless romantic already - it doesn't get any easier.
As my friends...and yes, faithful reader, you are one of them...while you are losing someone to Africa, remember that I am losing you to America.
As Gandalf would say, "I will not say, do not weep; for not all tears are an evil." I've cried more in the last four days than I have for...maybe forever? But it's been wonderful, wonderful, wonderful. You've touched someone half a world away. How cool is that?!
OK...this is not helping me pack much. Real advice: Don't pack books? I dunno. I'll try and give more advice when I get out there. Right now, though...packing.
Oh, wait, real advice...PACKING TAKES A LONG DAMN TIME. Don't procrastinate.
This will probably be my last entry from Florida for...a while. I'll try and update once more up in Staging in Philadelphia.
Check yourself before you wreck yourself,
Ryan Monaghan
Thursday, July 8, 2010
Some information...Four days
Gainesville...I can honestly say, it was wonderful. Like a well worn pair of boxers tossed into the yard sale box of life, you will be missed.
Here's some information about what to expect as far as communication. *NOTE* some of this stuff is fairly dated and may/may not apply to me. I don't know yet; living conditions in South Africa tend to vary greatly, I think. Mail/Phones should (hopefully) work pretty consistently; I'm hoping the internet will be the same way, but I can't say one way or the other.
"
Dear Prospective Volunteer: Please give this letter to your family and/or friends and ask them to hold on to it for as long as you are in South Africa.
July 2010
Dear Families and Friends,
Greetings from the South Africa Desk at the U.S. Peace Corps in Washington, D.C.! It is with great pleasure that we welcome you to the Peace Corps circle of friendship. We receive many questions from family members and friends of Volunteers about life in South Africa, so we would like to offer you advice and assistance in advance.
1. Irregular Communication. (Please see #3 for the mailing address to Peace Corps' office in Pretoria, the capital of South Africa) Mail from the United States to Pretoria is fairly reliable; however, mail service within South Africa is not as efficient and reliable. There is enormous variation in the time it takes for mail and packages to arrive at Volunteers’ sites. Generally, Volunteers find that they receive mail and packages from the United States two to four weeks after it has been sent. The same is true for sending mail from South Africa. Of course, there are exceptional cases in which a letter or a package might arrive within a shorter period or be substantially delayed. Some mail simply may not arrive. The destination of mail for Volunteers is as varied as the length of time it takes for mail to arrive.
We suggest that in your first letters you ask the Volunteer to give an estimate of how long it takes for him/her to receive your letters, and then try to establish a predictable pattern of how often you will write to each other. Also, try numbering your letters so that the Volunteer knows if he/she has missed one.
Being a Peace Corps Volunteer is a rewarding experience; however, there will also be times when Volunteers may write home telling of their "war" stories. Letters might describe recent illnesses, frustration with work, isolation, lack of resources, etc.
While the subject matter may be good reading material, it can often be misinterpreted on the home front. Volunteers have a wonderful support network in-country that includes counterparts and community members at their site, other Peace Corps Volunteers, as well as Peace Corps/South Africa staff. The Peace Corps’ highest priority is maintaining the health and safety of every Volunteer. Peace Corps/South Africa maintains a medical unit in Pretoria with two full-time medical officers, who care for the Volunteers’ primary health care needs. If the Volunteer requires medical care that is not available in South Africa, he/she will be medically evacuated to the United States. Fortunately, these are rare circumstances.
If for some reason your communication pattern is broken and you do not hear from your family member, you may want to contact the South Africa Desk or the Office of Special Services (OSS) at Peace Corps Washington at 1-800-424-8580, extension 1470.
Also, in the case of an emergency at home (death in the family, sudden critical illness, etc.), please do not hesitate to call OSS immediately, so that a message can be sent to the Volunteer. Use the above number during regular business hours (9:00 am to 5:00 pm Eastern Time, Monday through Friday). After hours, or during weekends, the Peace Corps Duty Officer may be reached at (202) 692-1470 and you will be transferred to an answering service. Tell the operator your name, telephone number, and the nature of the emergency and the Peace Corps Duty Officer will call you back.
2. Telephone Calls. The telephone system in South Africa is relatively good and service in and out of Pretoria to the United States is mostly reliable. In the interior of the country, where most of the Volunteers are located, phones are fewer in number and of decreased reliability. Volunteers do not have residential phones; however, many Volunteers choose to buy cell phones or use public phones to make and receive international calls. They will be
able to inform you of the actual telephone numbers and the reliability of telephone service once they arrive at their permanent sites in the country.
The South Africa Desk maintains regular contact with the Peace Corps office in Pretoria through phone calls and e-mail. However, these communication lines are reserved for business only and cannot be used to relay personal messages. All communication between family members and the Volunteer should be done via international mail, personal phone calls, or e-mail. Many Volunteers are able to access e-mail at Internet cafes in larger cities and towns on a weekly or monthly basis, depending on their location.
3. Sending packages. Parents and Volunteers like to send and receive care packages through the mail. Unfortunately, sending packages can be a frustrating experience for all involved due to occasional thefts and heavy customs taxes. You may want to try to send inexpensive items through the mail, but there is no guarantee that these items will arrive. Even though many Volunteers choose to get local post office boxes, you may also use the following address to send letters and/or packages:
Ryan Monaghan
Peace Corps
PO Box 9536
Pretoria 0001
SOUTH AFRICA
It is recommended that packages be sent in padded envelopes or bubble envelopes if possible, as boxes tend to be taxed more frequently and might pose as a greater target for theft. For lightweight but important items (e.g. airline tickets), DHL (an express mail service) does operate in Pretoria. If you choose to send items through DHL, you must address the package to:
Country Director
c/o: U. S. Peace Corps
126 Verdoorn Street
Sunnyside 0028
Pretoria
SOUTH AFRICA
The phone number for the Peace Corps office in South Africa is (27) 12-344-4255, as DHL will need this information. If you send the item to the Country Director, no liability can be assumed. For more information about DHL, please call their toll free number, 1-800-CALL-DHL, or visit their web site at www.dhl.com. Other courier services may operate in Pretoria - DHL is only one possibility.
We hope this information is helpful to you during the time your family member or friend is serving as a Peace Corps Volunteer in South Africa. We understand how frustrating it is to communicate with your family member overseas and we appreciate your using this information as a guideline. Please feel free to contact us at the South Africa Desk in Washington, D.C. if you have any further questions. Our phone number is 1-800-424-8580, ext. 2255/2332/2333, or locally, 202-692-2255/2332/2333."
Lot of info there. I'll also be in training for about 7-8 weeks when I first get out there (we arrive on July 15th, and training doesn't end until Aug. 27th...my birthday.) During that time, I'm pretty much expecting to be completely unable to talk, but again I am not sure.
I will buy a phone in SA. I'll also have Skype; if my internet is working, I'll try and use Skype more but the phone should work either way. I'll post the phone number once I have it. My skype name is gerdlp1275 .
And yes, I suck at the phone, okay? But this experience will hopefully make me better.
Much love,
Ryan Monaghan
Here's some information about what to expect as far as communication. *NOTE* some of this stuff is fairly dated and may/may not apply to me. I don't know yet; living conditions in South Africa tend to vary greatly, I think. Mail/Phones should (hopefully) work pretty consistently; I'm hoping the internet will be the same way, but I can't say one way or the other.
"
Dear Prospective Volunteer: Please give this letter to your family and/or friends and ask them to hold on to it for as long as you are in South Africa.
July 2010
Dear Families and Friends,
Greetings from the South Africa Desk at the U.S. Peace Corps in Washington, D.C.! It is with great pleasure that we welcome you to the Peace Corps circle of friendship. We receive many questions from family members and friends of Volunteers about life in South Africa, so we would like to offer you advice and assistance in advance.
1. Irregular Communication. (Please see #3 for the mailing address to Peace Corps' office in Pretoria, the capital of South Africa) Mail from the United States to Pretoria is fairly reliable; however, mail service within South Africa is not as efficient and reliable. There is enormous variation in the time it takes for mail and packages to arrive at Volunteers’ sites. Generally, Volunteers find that they receive mail and packages from the United States two to four weeks after it has been sent. The same is true for sending mail from South Africa. Of course, there are exceptional cases in which a letter or a package might arrive within a shorter period or be substantially delayed. Some mail simply may not arrive. The destination of mail for Volunteers is as varied as the length of time it takes for mail to arrive.
We suggest that in your first letters you ask the Volunteer to give an estimate of how long it takes for him/her to receive your letters, and then try to establish a predictable pattern of how often you will write to each other. Also, try numbering your letters so that the Volunteer knows if he/she has missed one.
Being a Peace Corps Volunteer is a rewarding experience; however, there will also be times when Volunteers may write home telling of their "war" stories. Letters might describe recent illnesses, frustration with work, isolation, lack of resources, etc.
While the subject matter may be good reading material, it can often be misinterpreted on the home front. Volunteers have a wonderful support network in-country that includes counterparts and community members at their site, other Peace Corps Volunteers, as well as Peace Corps/South Africa staff. The Peace Corps’ highest priority is maintaining the health and safety of every Volunteer. Peace Corps/South Africa maintains a medical unit in Pretoria with two full-time medical officers, who care for the Volunteers’ primary health care needs. If the Volunteer requires medical care that is not available in South Africa, he/she will be medically evacuated to the United States. Fortunately, these are rare circumstances.
If for some reason your communication pattern is broken and you do not hear from your family member, you may want to contact the South Africa Desk or the Office of Special Services (OSS) at Peace Corps Washington at 1-800-424-8580, extension 1470.
Also, in the case of an emergency at home (death in the family, sudden critical illness, etc.), please do not hesitate to call OSS immediately, so that a message can be sent to the Volunteer. Use the above number during regular business hours (9:00 am to 5:00 pm Eastern Time, Monday through Friday). After hours, or during weekends, the Peace Corps Duty Officer may be reached at (202) 692-1470 and you will be transferred to an answering service. Tell the operator your name, telephone number, and the nature of the emergency and the Peace Corps Duty Officer will call you back.
2. Telephone Calls. The telephone system in South Africa is relatively good and service in and out of Pretoria to the United States is mostly reliable. In the interior of the country, where most of the Volunteers are located, phones are fewer in number and of decreased reliability. Volunteers do not have residential phones; however, many Volunteers choose to buy cell phones or use public phones to make and receive international calls. They will be
able to inform you of the actual telephone numbers and the reliability of telephone service once they arrive at their permanent sites in the country.
The South Africa Desk maintains regular contact with the Peace Corps office in Pretoria through phone calls and e-mail. However, these communication lines are reserved for business only and cannot be used to relay personal messages. All communication between family members and the Volunteer should be done via international mail, personal phone calls, or e-mail. Many Volunteers are able to access e-mail at Internet cafes in larger cities and towns on a weekly or monthly basis, depending on their location.
3. Sending packages. Parents and Volunteers like to send and receive care packages through the mail. Unfortunately, sending packages can be a frustrating experience for all involved due to occasional thefts and heavy customs taxes. You may want to try to send inexpensive items through the mail, but there is no guarantee that these items will arrive. Even though many Volunteers choose to get local post office boxes, you may also use the following address to send letters and/or packages:
Ryan Monaghan
Peace Corps
PO Box 9536
Pretoria 0001
SOUTH AFRICA
It is recommended that packages be sent in padded envelopes or bubble envelopes if possible, as boxes tend to be taxed more frequently and might pose as a greater target for theft. For lightweight but important items (e.g. airline tickets), DHL (an express mail service) does operate in Pretoria. If you choose to send items through DHL, you must address the package to:
Country Director
c/o: U. S. Peace Corps
126 Verdoorn Street
Sunnyside 0028
Pretoria
SOUTH AFRICA
The phone number for the Peace Corps office in South Africa is (27) 12-344-4255, as DHL will need this information. If you send the item to the Country Director, no liability can be assumed. For more information about DHL, please call their toll free number, 1-800-CALL-DHL, or visit their web site at www.dhl.com. Other courier services may operate in Pretoria - DHL is only one possibility.
We hope this information is helpful to you during the time your family member or friend is serving as a Peace Corps Volunteer in South Africa. We understand how frustrating it is to communicate with your family member overseas and we appreciate your using this information as a guideline. Please feel free to contact us at the South Africa Desk in Washington, D.C. if you have any further questions. Our phone number is 1-800-424-8580, ext. 2255/2332/2333, or locally, 202-692-2255/2332/2333."
Lot of info there. I'll also be in training for about 7-8 weeks when I first get out there (we arrive on July 15th, and training doesn't end until Aug. 27th...my birthday.) During that time, I'm pretty much expecting to be completely unable to talk, but again I am not sure.
I will buy a phone in SA. I'll also have Skype; if my internet is working, I'll try and use Skype more but the phone should work either way. I'll post the phone number once I have it. My skype name is gerdlp1275 .
And yes, I suck at the phone, okay? But this experience will hopefully make me better.
Much love,
Ryan Monaghan
Sunday, July 4, 2010
Time Flies
This may be long.
Have you ever heard the saying you can't go home again?
I think about that sometimes.
This morning, I woke up and, after a few seconds, realized that I now have almost exactly one week left in Florida before heading to Philadelphia and then flying out to South Africa. One week. Time flies.
Thinking about this made me home sick. Not the watered down, back of your mind desire interlaced with glimpses of old family or friends. No, I'm talking about a gut wrenching, real pain for a place that may not exist anymore, if at all. I have only felt this longing a few times before; the one time I remember most is the first day after moving into the college dormitory. It was the day I realized that life, for better or for worse, had abruptly changed and no matter the circumstances, could never change back to what it was. What I knew. What had seemed to finally become familiar, just as it ended.
That's how I felt today. For me, real homesickness has a very unusual symptom: a specific, vivid memory, of when I was about three years old, playing with pebbles behind my grandmother's house in Lake Worth. I remember trying to count all the pebbles I could fit between my fingers (I still do this. However, that's irrelevant to the story). I remember hearing an ambulance siren go off near the street. I don't know why it's this memory, but it always is. It fades quickly as I motivate myself, but the faintest lingering shadow remains.
What scared me is that I have become homesick before I have even left home. But what is home, really? The memories that I have from that day, as a three year old child, remain attached. That house is no longer there. The woods, last I had heard, had been torn down for new development. What I remember, what I can see in my mind, is no longer there. Perhaps that is what makes it real homesickness: not a longing for distant place or people, but a biting grief for a life and existence that no longer exists, and cannot again.
College has been wonderful to me. I remember thinking, after graduating high school, how amazed I was at the growth I had experienced in the last two years, with the close friends I had made (2004-2006). College has been that growth a hundred times over. To learn about yourself, to see your abilities and shortcomings and the minute details that make you unique amongst the world, is a humbling, humbling experience.
To write about what I've learned, and my own fledgling philosophy of the world nurtured by those experiences, is another blog post entirely. I may get around to it, may not. If you're ever interested though, I can always bore your ear off talking about it. Few things make me happier than contemplating the concept of existential purpose with others.
One thing I will say is that, as part of my philosophy, the most important (well, second most important) facet is to always grow, to try and understand the circumstances of others from their perspective and withhold judgement. This is why I joined the Peace Corps. I wanted to see culture from the culture's vantage, and not my own. Walk a mile in their shoes is cliche. That doesn't mean it's not true.
I could go on, but if you've read this far, you're already more patient than I could be. I'll finish off with this food for thought. I'm not religious (this is another post as well, or discussion if you'd like). However, I've read a lot of work by C.S. Lewis, the author of the Narnia series, and a devout philosopher of Christian thinking. One parable he offered for growth in life is that of a child in the womb: would the child choose to leave if they had a chance? The womb is warm, it is safe, food is provided. The space is comfortable, and the baby understands it. Outside, the world is strange. It is large, uncomfortable, and does not provide. Yet the opportunity for richer experience is so much greater still that life without birth could not really ever be considered life at all. The infant could never grow, it could never understand. As C.S. Lewis says, the parable fails only in that the infant has no choice but to be born. Often in our lives, he says, we do have the choice when opportunites for growth, at the expense of an existence we understand, arise. What would we choose?
That is how I feel now. I'm afraid, it's true. But if the opportunity to serve abroad enriches my experience and understanding of the world, that may just make it worth it. I leave home, specifically Gainesville, knowing that if I came back someday, the place I knew and understood would probably be gone. If not in location, than at least in the people and the meanings and feelings associated with the places I knew.
As Humphrey would say, we'll always have Gainesville.
I love all of my friends very much; it's the feeling that sends homesickness packing. With the internet, Skype, Facebook, on and on, connectivity stays constant. Our experiences change, but those who matter most, who care about me not because of my actions, choices or circumstances, but only because it's me, somehow always stick around.
You have been part of my life, and will continue to be so, no matter where our paths lead. You mean the world to me. :)
I'll try and stave off the sentimental drivel before I get too weepy. I don't always cry, but when I do, I prefer dos equis. Thanks for listening...feels good man.
It's been a RREAAALLL slice, Hercules.
- Monaghan
Monday, June 7, 2010
First Post
When I was thirteen and leaving middle school, I made two rules for myself:
1) I would never shave my legs.
2) I would never start a blog.
Times have changed. I've gotten older, thinner, and hairier. Maybe 13-year old Ryan would have a few choice words for me if I went back to see him now, like "Who the hell are you and why are you in my room?"
I guess I'll never know.
What I do know is that, in the next couple of weeks, I'll be departing the US and heading to South Africa as a Resource Specialist for the Peace Corps. I'll be teaching math to students in SA, and working with some of the teachers on outcome based learning. This blog'll give me and you (yes, YOU!) a chance to connect, and allow me to share some of the culture and my new life with friends and loved ones back home.
I'm excited, anxious and terrified. And now I'm blogging about it.
...Yikes.
-Monaghan
P.S. I still haven't broken rule number 1 yet. No promises, though.
1) I would never shave my legs.
2) I would never start a blog.
Times have changed. I've gotten older, thinner, and hairier. Maybe 13-year old Ryan would have a few choice words for me if I went back to see him now, like "Who the hell are you and why are you in my room?"
I guess I'll never know.
What I do know is that, in the next couple of weeks, I'll be departing the US and heading to South Africa as a Resource Specialist for the Peace Corps. I'll be teaching math to students in SA, and working with some of the teachers on outcome based learning. This blog'll give me and you (yes, YOU!) a chance to connect, and allow me to share some of the culture and my new life with friends and loved ones back home.
I'm excited, anxious and terrified. And now I'm blogging about it.
...Yikes.
-Monaghan
P.S. I still haven't broken rule number 1 yet. No promises, though.
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