How do I feel…

October 18, 2012
 How do I feel? Someone from home asked me this recently so I thought I would respond.  Honestly, recently I’ve been on an emotional rollercoaster.  Its been quite odd.  One moment I’m happy, the next I could cry.   One morning I don’t want to get out of bed, and that afternoon I am happy as a lark because a girl thanked me in private for saying that she was my friend in front of all the other girls.
 I terribly miss wearing shorts. Skirts suck sometimes.  They are very restricting, and when the wind blows, up they go.  Women are not allowed to wear trousers here, one chiefdom even banned it. Sometimes I sneak in a pair of jeans when I go to the capitol city, but even when I do I feel odd.  I feel like people are looking at me, judging me for the pants I am wearing.   The females I speak to about this tell me not to worry about it, but it is hard not to. 
 As a women, when I do certain things people get pretty surprised.  I built cubbies this week, and even the Swazi male Peace Corps trainers were shocked when they saw it (but also very proud and inspired by my craftsmanship).  As an American I shock people with my skills.  People are shocked when they find out I can knit, sew, and chop wood.  I even carry my own water!  They expect me not to be able to cook or clean.  
 I am lucky to not get haggled for many too often.  Some of my friends have complaints of people asking them for money everyday, just because we are white.  Although I was stopped once and a mother asked me to pay for her child school fees, and a lot of times am ask to buy people things when I am at the sitolo (shop), I do see myself as lucky for not being harassed as much as I could be.
 Speaking of harassing, being a white woman causes me to be harassed.  I am constantly asked to be married and to give out my phone number.   Even on the days I know my outfit looks ridiculous and I feel that I look terrible, I know I will get hit on.   This was proven one morning when I was walking to my PC neighbors house.  I looked silly, hiking shoes and a skirt and hat.  As I was walking I thought to myself, I bet even when I look bad I will get hit on.  Sure enough, within five minutes of this thought I was hit on twice.
 These first months are important for relationship building.  This is proving to be extremely difficult.  Relationships are hard to build when they all seem so superficial.  People talk to me because I am white, because I am an American, because they think I will give them something.  Teachers ask for things from me (not all, but some).  This relationship building will be important so that I can get past this ‘fake’ feeling.
 And it ticks me off when people ask me am I homesick. What a strange question to answer, its not really a yes or a no.  Of course I am homesick, but I am ok.
 I miss taking showers.  I do love me a good bucket bath, they are important after a hot, dusty day,  but sometimes it feels like such a hassle boiling my water, than mixing it with cooler water, then just bathing in a bucket where half the time my back hurts afterward from being bent.  And grocery shopping sucks.  Its not too bad going into town (really I’ve just accepted it), but once you buy one thing you than have to carry it around with you the rest of the day, buying everything else you might need, and than take it on the bus.  The amount of people and things that fit into these transports!  Its not a done deal once you get on the bus either, because once you get to your stop you must maneuver getting yourself and all of your things safely off the bus, and than walk them the rest of the way home.
 I have loved bonding with my family, they really take you in as one of their own.  My gogo cares for me, and tells me I am one of her children.  This was most touching when one day I broke a vase, and when I brought home a new one (scary carrying class on the transport) she looked at me and said, “But why did you do this, you are my child.” And it is great if my makhulu is there when a man is trying to hit on me.  When I tell them he is my babe, they turn to him and ask “How much?”  This question is relating to how many cows do buy your daughter.  Its heart filling when my makhulu says, “Way to many for you,” following it up with, “Plus, you can not buy her, she is not for sale.”  My bosisi and bhuti are also becoming more comfortable with me.  It is funny, my sisi being her 9 year old self will ask me to help with things.  For example, today she said, lets go to the forest and get firewood.  I was not doing much so said sure. I had no idea gogo was out there about to carry a huge log back.  When I showed up with my sisi to help, my gogo looked a bit shocked (she never would have asked me to help), and than a look of realization came over her face where I could tell it just hit her that probably my sisi just asked me to come help.