Life as a Peace Corps Volunteer

September 5^th, 2012

It has been cold and raining for almost a week now.  I have been largely stuck inside the whole time, reading, cooking, occasionally trying to do something productive.  It’s hard to haul myself out from under my tent of blankets, though.  The thermometer in my hut barely passes 50 degrees during even the warmest part of the day.  How my skin longs for the heat of the sun, to be released from the prison of layers I have been wearing since this wretched weather started days ago. 

It is times like this that I feel so disconnected from my life back home, so utterly caught up in my world here that I almost feel as if I am existing in a whole other universe.  It’s amazing how quickly the body can adapt.  How quickly new habits are formed and old habits are forgotten, my life here so different from the one that I led back home.  Things that at first seemed so daunting and burdensome have now become the norm to me.

One of the most defining elements of life here is water.  The most critical part of existence.  Vital to every living being, but yet, something that I have so taken for granted all my life… up until now.  You never really realize how much water you use in your day-to-day business until you have a 25-litre jug of it sitting in front of you, and you know that’s ALL you are going to have until the taps open again in three days.  But really, I don’t need more than that anyway.  Another thing I have learned since being here…how little water we actually need to get by.

Everyday, I boil two litres of water and immediately filter it.  This is my drinking water for the day, occasionally a little of which I will use to cook with.  In the evenings, I use another few litres to wash all my dishes from the day.  Finally, I use a mere litre to bathe.  And that’s it.  Except for laundry days, which are few and far between for me.  Here, I’ll go three or four days without washing my hair.  Likewise, I’ll wear my clothes at least four or five times without washing them.  When water is such a precious commodity, you wait to wash something until it is truly dirty.  When I do wash (either my hair or my clothing) it is all done by hand with a bucket.  My “bathroom” consists of a plastic basin with a shower curtain hung around it and my toilet is the pit litrine in the back corner of the homestead shared with the rest of my family.  As foreign as this all may have seemed to me six months ago, before I found out I was joining Peace Corps, it is amazing how normal it all is to me now and how little I actually miss of the amenities from home.

Village life was also a fast adjustment, mainly how different my daily routine is here.  There are no street lights illuminating the dirt roads of my village.  When night falls, it is DARK! No one is out and about after 6pm in the evening (except those types of people you definitely don’t want to be sharing a pitch black street with).  As soon as darkness descends, I padlock my burglar bars, lock my door, and latch all the windows.  I usually fix dinner, do the dishes, take a quick bucket bath and am in bed by 8pm.  Likewise, I rise much earlier.  My sleep cycle here is basically controlled by the sun at night and the roosters in the morning.  The roosters start crowing at 4:30 every morning like clockwork.  I’ve only used my alarm clock once since arriving in the village over a month ago.  Once the roosters start, there is no more sleeping.

The way I conduct myself in the village is also very different than I ever carried myself back home.  Swaziland remains a very conservative country.  In addition, as a young white woman, I get a TON of male attention here….rather aggressive male attention.  I am proposed to no fewer than three or four times every time I go to town.  As such, I dress modestly and carry myself modestly, as well.  Whenever I leave my homestead, I am in a skirt or dress that goes at least to my knees, if not all the way to my ankles, along with a shirt with sleeves and a high neckline.  I’ve noticed that dressing in such a way really does cut down on the amount of harassment I receive. 

Finally, one of the most welcome habits from home that I have quickly broken here is my obsession with time, schedules, appointments, etc.  Every time I leave to go somewhere, I take my time.  I stop to chat with every single person I pass on the way.  Sometimes it’s just a greeting.  Other times people want to ask questions and find out more about what I’m doing here or what the U.S is like.  If I’m not walking to my destination, I have to wait for the khumbi, which runs on no particular schedule, coming and going as it fills up.  Even when I am walking, most days the road has been muddy and riddled with puddles, making for slow progress.  My village is gorgeous though, and I never mind the detours and long journeys.  I often just make up excuses to get out and walk.  I’m soaking it all in as much as possible before I’m back in the hustle and bustle of home.