I live on a farm that has 4 houses on it and the entire property is gated with an electrified fence. I have a “beeper” to open and close the gate which I keep on my key ring along with my other keys.

I handed my maps and magnifying glass to Judith and headed for the farmhouse to drop off my keys. Judith started the rental car and started for the gate. It then occurred to me that I would need someone to shut the gate behind us because I was leaving my keys. I went into the farmhouse and found that no one was home. Two of their dogs got out in the process.

So now we had a dilemma: we could not leave and not close the gate again. Not to worry I said “I will check the gate on another part of the farm and if it is open it will lead us to a second wooden gate that isn’t alarmed and we can get out that way.” But first I had to get the 2 dogs back into the farmhouse. That done, I set off for the second gate. Fortunately it was open and I headed for the outside world.

Halfway to the back gate, I realize that I do not have my purse. So I turned around, went back through the gate and headed back to my house. I went into my house and found my purse and raincoat, by the way, still lying on my bed. I picked them up, locked up my house and headed to the gates a second time.

I got to about the same distance and I realized that I still had forgotten my water bottle! Around I go, back to my house to get my water bottle. By now my cat is really wondering: What is going on??? That done, I lock up my house again and head for the gates a third time.

I had almost reached the last gate when I realized that I still had my keys in my hand!! By this time, Judith is wondering what has happened to me! Back I go to the farmhouse and drop off my keys and exasperated with myself I again head for the gates.

This time I actually make it! I climbed through the wooden gate and found Judith waiting with the rental car. As I approach her, she tells me that she can’t find the maps and magnifying glass that I had handed to her before setting off to drop off my keys. Ironic, huh?

This time I could only laugh!! But this time I sent HER back through the gates to retrace her steps and I sat in the rental car. She did find them, on the ground next to where the rental car had been parked at my house. Back in the car, we left the farm with the hope that between us we still had one functioning brain!!!

The only other thing I wanted to do before leaving town was to check my post office box. It wasn’t until I was actually standing in front of my P.O. Box that it dawned on me that my key was back at the farmhouse with my other keys!!

It was a full 3 days later when Judith asked me: “Why didn’t you just take the house keys off of your key ring to leave and take the “beeper” and other keys with you?

You know, it never ever, ever occurred to me.

During our last camps in July, I assessed 9 primary school children and 15 secondary youth. Many of them had multiple needs: food, money, clothes, guardianship, removal from their current living situation, foster placement, etc. We can do some things here at camp in that they eat well and we provide them with clothes that have been given to us by volunteers. At every camp, we have had a least one child with no place to go after camp. We have been able to temporarily house these children but it takes a long time before their situation is properly managed by a Social Worker.

I was asked to see a 17-year old girl whose mother had died 3 years earlier and who never knew her father (this is a common scenario here). Children/Youth are not the best of historians so it is often difficult to get an accurate accounting of what has happened to them. Thuli (not her real name) told me that she went to live with her Mamkhulu (her mother’s older sister) after her mother died. She told me that she was not allowed to stay in school and had to do chores all the time.

When I asked about her current living situation, she told me that she lived in a 2-room house with 8 other children and her Mamkhulu. She said that her Mamkhulu believes that she has told someone in the community that she is a “witch” (a very bad thing here). She tells me her Mamkhulu treats her badly; making her and her younger sister sleep outside at night often. It is COLD here in July and this is clearly a not-ok thing to do.

Thuli told me that she was now attending school and participating in the KIDS CLUB that 2 of our Youth Leaders run at the school. She said that when a community member learned that she was not attending school, he talked to a teacher and they talked to the Mamkhulu and Thuli was re-enrolled in school. But she is afraid she may not be able to stay in school next year because Mamkhulu said that she will not pay her school fees.

Thuli also told me that Social Services had been involved with her situation in the past and that she and her sister were removed from Mamkhulu’s care and placed with a foster mom. But after a week, she told me, a distant Uncle came to the foster home with a gun and demanded that the children leave with him. He took them back to the Mamkhulu’s house. I referred this young girl to Social Services in the rural community where she was staying while she was still at camp.

Camps end on a Sunday. Monday morning, my Supervisor got a telephone call from Ntokozo, one of our Youth Leaders. Thuli had returned home from camp and the Mamkhulu would not let her in the house. She had to spend the night outdoors and “went to sleep with no food” (also a common occurrence). In the morning she went to the Youth Leader’s house (she lives in the same community) and asked her for help.

My Supervisor, Heather, and I got into her car and went to the Youth Leader’s home and picked them both up. We had also brought our Lead Youth Leader, Sam, with us. We drove to Nelspruit and went to the Social Services department and found the Social Worker in charge, fortunately, Heather knew her. We told her the whole story and said that this child had no place to live and what could they do to help her?

I had a contact telephone number for Mamkhulu and gave it to them. It just so happened that the Social Worker that is responsible for Thuli’s community was in the building that morning. She came in to assist and tried to reach the Mamkhulu by phone. It was explained to us that this is where they would have to start, to “hear her side of the story” because often children “don’t tell us the truth.”

We waited – something else we do quite a bit of here. When the Social Worker came back we learned the following. The telephone number was an “Aunt’s” who turned out to be a younger sister of Thuli’s mother. Thuli and her younger sister came to live with her and her husband after their mother passed away. The Mamkhulu thought that the children might be getting some money from their mother’s estate and demanded that they stay with her. Aunt said no. Mamkhulu said the children cannot stay with her because the man she is married to is not the children’s biological father, so the Aunt relented. There wasn’t any money for the children in their mother’s meager estate and she believed that because of that the Mamkhulu is mistreating them.

The Aunt told the Social Worker that she loved these children and wanted to raise them along with her own and her husband. She said that Thuli could move back in with them that day!!! So, we left Thuli and Ntokozo with the Social Worker who agreed to do so.

We left Social Services feeling very well. Things like this hardly ever happen. But this story does have a happy ending. When we followed up with Thuli, she was attending a new school where we also have a KIDS CLUB running and she was very pleased with the new school uniform that C4L had bought for her. She was very happy living with the aunt and her family.

It’s nice when something like this happens – only wish it happened more often.

  The last of the original group of volunteers that I came over here with will be leaving tomorrow.  It is a little sad to see them go; hard to believe that 26 months has passed.  I am one of 5 who are extending our service into a third year although I said I would finish in June, 2009 to coordinate this with my house becoming available to move back into.  One of my good friends, Brenda, also extended and I am very happy about that.  I have also made some new friends from the most recent group who came here the end of January, 2008.

  I started a garden outside my cottage and it is going great.  I have had great lettace for more than 2 months as well as herbs and leeks.  Recently I put in some green beans, will be adding more today, and some tomato volunteers have come up from last season and are doing nicely.  I had planted some gladiolla bulbs last spring and they have come up again too.

   I am pretty much acting as a Trainer and Mentor these days.  The 37 youth who are taking the Community Development Practice course (the one I came back here to finish with them) went through their first of 5 "workplace assessments" this week - and they knocked the Assessor's socks off!  He told them/us that our group is the very best group of learners they have ever had!!  He was very impressed with their confidence, their presentation skills, and their ability to engage and work with orphans & vulnerable children in their schools.  Right now I feel like a proud mother!!

   I have also been doing some training with adults.  I co-taught a week-long workshop for Caregivers in another part of South Africa with my supervisor, Heather which went very well.  We were so close to the Lesotho border that we decided to go there and spend a couple of days seeing the country and shopping (of course).  Lesotho is still very much third world and it was interesting to see.  Much of life there is pastoral and we saw many farms and herds of cattle, sheep and goats.  Very little infrastructure away from the capital of Maseru and even that city is just beginning to develop.  We also visited a number of weavers and came back with some woolen tapestries that they are famous for making.

   This week the Senior Management Team from the Water Aid Mozambique program are here for a team-building workshop.  I wrote a manual and prepared 4 of our youth leaders to facilitate and debrief them as they work there way through our obstacle course as one of their team activities.  It went well, gave the kids more confidence, and they got to earn a little money too.  They were a bit intimidated at first because they usually do the course with the children who come to our psycho-social support camps.  Other than having the team drop one of its members during an exercise on day 2, things have gone well and I can see what a boost it has been to their self-esteem to be successful this week.

   Heather and I will be doing a week-long set of  2-hour team-building sessions next month for an organization called PenReach.  Heather started this NGO while she was working at Penryn College prior to 2003.  We did some similar work with them last year in Kruger Park; they are an easy group to work with as they are all educators.

   In early November I am taking a vacation with 3 other PC volunteers and we are spending a week in St. Lucia, a very beautiful part of Kwa-Zulu-Natal province.  It is a bird, marine, and wildlife sanctuary on the Indian Ocean.  I was able to get a 3-bedroom, 3-bath cottage at a resort there with my timeshare exchange.  I am already very ready to go.  When my friend Kevin was here last October, we spent a day there but this time we will really get to see and do much more.  I still haven't made it to Mozambique or Namibia but they are on the list to see before the next year is out.

   I do intend to go back over these last few months and share some of my stories with you, so stay tuned . . .

I didn’t realize how much my internal dialogue about money had changed until I recently returned from my rehab period in the States. Let me take you through some of it:

First let me set the scene. In the morning, I am going to travel by public taxi to Graskop (actually, I have to use 3 different taxis) to spend the weekend with 4 other Peace Corps Volunteers who live within striking distance. Now, a trip like this in not within my monthly budget. Peace Corps gives each of us a vacation allowance equivalent to $24.00 each month that we serve. I try not to spend mine but rather save them up for longer trips I might be planning. A visit like this means I have to tighten my belt a bit.

Tuesday I needed to go into town to do an errand. I planned to leave from work and take a taxi in. In trying to decide what time to do this, I hemmed and hawed about whether I would stop at my favorite coffee shop “Mama’s” for lunch or coffee. I know that the cheapest thing on their menu is a toasted cheese and tomato sandwich for R16 and that if I just drink ice water and lemon I can get away pretty cheap (around $2.25).

But since a pot of their Bodum Coffee is only R10,50 I decided to make my lunch, bring it to work and eat it first before going into town. But you know what they say about the best made plans. Turns out that my NGO’s CEO wanted to meet with me and offered to treat me to lunch in town. He also took me where I needed to go to get my errand done. He also drove. It meant I needed to pass on the coffee but, hey, I didn’t have to spend any money that day! This is a success.

Wednesday was the Day of the African Child event and I had forgotten that these events also include lunch. Since the government buildings are close to the nearest Mall for me in Nelspruit, I decided to stop at the mall before coming home. So I made myself a chicken sandwich, grabbed an apple and headed to the highway to hail a taxi. It cost me R10 for the taxi to the mall. After the event, Nqoba, a youth leader I mentor agreed to drop me off at the mall on his way back to work.

One of my favorite places at the Mall (much like any mall in the U.S.) is “Mugg & Bean”, South Africa’s equivalent to Starbucks with a much bigger menu. Their mug of “bottomless” coffee had gone up to R10,90 since I left but since I was feeling a bit frustrated by not treating myself to a coffee the previous day, I decided to indulge myself. Besides, I had forgotten that I was getting lunch at the event and my chicken sandwich and apple would be going home with me! With tip, the 2 mugs of coffee cost me R12.

After I did my necessary grocery shopping (where I have to think hard before buying anything that is not true food) I walked up to the highway to hail a taxi back home. This meant spending another R10. But this day I got lucky. A neighbor of mine happened by and when she saw me standing on the side of the road with my “stuff,” she stopped and offered me a ride. So the way I see it, the money I saved on a one-way taxi fare brought the cost of that mug of coffee to R2!! Such a deal!

Can you see yourself doing this everytime you take out your wallet? This is going to do me so much good someday you say. . . . . RIGHT J )) . . . . .

I hope I have these facts right: in 1978 in or near Soweto a large student body uprose to protest the teaching of mathematics to black children in the Afrikaans language. Sadly, it turned into a very violent day and many children were killed. The African Day of the Child was named in 2004 as a day to remember and commemorate those children.

A legislative session was held and conducted by selected children from the various schools in the province. Also in attendance were members of the legislature itself, government officials, educators, childcare workers, etc., and other interested parties. I think at least half of the children who participated (about 200) were disabled.

“Madam Chairman” was a wonderful little girl, and I do mean little: from where I was sitting, I could only see the top of her head and forehead. If she looked up occasionally I got a glimpse of her eyes but that was it. She followed that standard protocol that is followed by the legislature when it meets in the same meeting venue.

Several children were given an opportunity to speak and express their concerns to the seated adults about the state of childcare in the largest sense and how it affects them and their communities. Since there was a large group of deaf children in attendance, there were 2 or 3 people who “signed” for them. Children in wheelchairs were accommodated for and a child with a pretty severe case of polio got himself up to the podium while we all held our breath – quite touching.

I was so impressed with the depth and range of issues that these children brought up: from clean water, proper sanitation/hygiene needs, all forms of abuse, lack of infrastructure in their communities, safety in their schools, lack of housing, escalating crime/violence, not having enough to eat, up to and including the xenophobia that has been happening here in South Africa of late.

There were a few funny, amazing moments for me, one was watching a older deaf child signing her concerns with great rapidity of movement while at the same time another child was furiously translating in siSwati what she was talking about! I couldn’t believe how fast this was happennng J ))

After that, legislative members present and several other people from within the government responded. Repeatedly, they told the children that this meeting was “not a talk show” and that their issues and concerns were being taken very seriously and acted upon quickly. I seriously hope that they stick to that commitment given the great needs I have seen during my time here in South Africa.

Next there was a vote of thanks given to all of the sponsors and volunteers that made the event possible and then Madam Chairman led the parade of people in attendance out onto the outer courtyard for the “entertainment” portion of the day that proceeded lunch. I had forgotten – food is always provided at these events and I remember wondering as I watched these children for how many of them this would be the only meal that they got that day.

Over the next 90 minutes, several groups of children took turns doing “performances.” The youth leaders I came with performed a combination of drama, singing and dancing entitled “SAY NO TO DRUGS, SAY YES TO LOVE. Feeling like a proud mama, I applauded them profusely when there were finished. All of the groups were good, these children have such natural voices and rhythm. But two deserve particular mention.

The first was a group of 5 adolescent girls who did a dance number to music that they could not hear! This was amazing to watch and they were totally on the beat. It just amazed me that they could dance this way by using their other senses to do so. Oh, and remember that child with polio I mentioned earlier? He was so moved that he spontaneously got up on stage and joined them (a common occurrence here) and he kept perfect beat to the music too!!

The second was also a group of girls who looked to be between 8 and 16 years of age. They performed some traditional Swazi dances for us but it was their attire or lack thereof that shocked me. They were all naked except for a traditional Swazi (read skimpy here) skirt which was attached to a narrow strap crossed over one of their shoulders.

When they first came out, I was taken aback: they were all bare-chested and some were quite well developed. Once they started their first number, I turn to Space, one of the youth leaders I was with, and said to him that “in my culture” I wouldn’t be seeing something like this in public. He told me that this was the first time he had ever seen this in person also; once or twice on television, but never live before. Many of the other youth leaders were snickering too – I surmised that this was a first for them as well.

One of the traditional siSwati dance moves is a high one-legged kick. These girls did not face the audience while they were doing these (although this is the true form) thank God but it took me a few moments to realize that they were not wearing underwear either. Not quick believing what I was seeing, I again turned to Space and asked him “Are these girls wearing underpants?” More giggles . . No! he replied. Now I ask you? Am I just getting old or what? So I think I will respectfully chalk this one up to “cultural differences” and let it go at that.

It was quite a day.

A TESTIMONY TO HOW BLESSED I AM TO HAVE SUCH AMAZING FRIENDS!!

Not that I didn’t experience culture shock. When I left the airport, nothing “looked right.” I wasn’t familiar with seeing all the concrete, freeways, buildings and cars rushing past that I used to consider quite normal. My friend Donna asked me that first day to “make a list for Trader Joe’s” and she offered to shop for me. Trader Joes? Huh? It just didn’t compute. She decided to try again the next day.

Now admittedly, I was in a lot of pain and had been traveling for a day and a half with little sleep. I guess I had become comfortable with the wide open spaces here in South Africa, the visible vegetation everywhere and of course the red dirt. I wasn’t able to return to my own home because it has been rented out. Rather, I moved in with a friend in her neighborhood.

It took about 3 weeks to begin to feel comfortable with my surroundings and relearn how to get around town. But it wasn’t until I house sat in March in my own neighborhood that I had the first feelings of “being home.” I realized that I use the word “home” now to designate where I am living at the time. Since my father passed away in 2001, “home” is no longer Massachusetts.

I truly value all of my friendships but there are a few that deserve special attention for going above and beyond the call of duty during my rehab period.

Donna: who became my driver and took me to most of my medical and PT appointments as well as taking trips to Costco, the infamous “Trader Joes” and other necessary places for me. A retired Physical Therapist with more than 50 years experience, she was an invaluable resource to me (a little tough on me at times) and helped me greatly with my ankle rehab. I carry her in my head here in South Africa. Whenever I am stepping up or down I hear her say: “up with the good, down with the bad” or “up to heaven, down to hell.” Another helpful thing she told me about getting up from a sitting position is “toes over the nose.” Try it. Thank you again Donna.

Claire: who took me into her home and let me stay with her for the entire time I was in rehab. Her sons are gown o she had room for me. At first I was a little apprehensive about staying with any one friend for too long and thought I would sort of rotate myself around. However, Claire and I seemed to cohabitate easily and I still miss her company. Thank you again Claire.

Kevin: I owe this man my life. The entire time that I have been in South Africa, he has managed the rental and care of my house there for me. What kind of great friend is that, huh? He helped me get rid of some disappointing tenants and whipped my house back into shape in no time. I just learned that it has been re-rented to a very nice family that he thinks will treat it as their own and they are even into the gardening thing – how lucky can one person get? Thank you again Kevin.

Judi lent me her second car when I was again able to drive to use for the duration of my rehab! I was deeply touched that she would do this for me, taking on the insurance risk and leaving her car in my care. Not many people would do that. It changed my life there to have the freedom to come and go as I please again. Thank you again Judi.

Lastly, a big THANK YOU FOR YOUR SUPPORT to everyone else that I was able to spend with during this time. I realize now that it was the right decision to return to the states even though I didn’t want to initially.

At 9:15 am I called the Peace Corps Headquarters office to inquire re the whereabouts of the driver. He told me “I am coming now.” I love this response because it is the purest of vagueness! He was there at 9:30 am and we drove to the “Brooklyn” branch of the FNB. Along the way I asked him if I needed any documentation to reopen my account. He told me “No, just your passport.” I also asked him if there was anyone in particular I was to ask for once at the bank. He told me “Vivian.” So far, so good.

Once parked, we walked together to the bank and found the Customer Services Manager, Danny, and an assistant busy working together at his desk. I greeted them both in siSwati and enquired about their families. I offered to wait until they were finished but they stopped what they were doing and insisted on helping me. I explained what I needed and asked for Vivian. Danny told me that “Vivian is not working today” but assured me that his assistant was “very competent and could help me with anything I needed to do.”

So my “visit” began. When Danny learned that I was living and working in the Mpumalanga Province, he told me that he had grown up in a township near Nelspruit before coming to Pretoria to educate himself and find work. When I asked him which one, he told me “Kabokweni.” Well . . . ..I lived in Kabokweni for 5 months before moving to White River in late January of last year!! . . . .instant connection.

Back and forth, many questions and answers: I learned where he went to Primary and Secondary school and knew them both. I learned where his family lives today and that his father moved to Masoyi many years ago. I explained to him where I lived quite near the Temba Hospital and learned we both frequently visited the same “Western Chicken Dust” for barbequed chicken for cheap. You get the idea. Meanwhile, Danny’s assistant saw that we were engrossed in conversation and politely excused herself.

Eventually, we got back to business. Danny’s assistant informed me that because my account had been opened at the “Church Street” main office that I needed to go there to reopen my account. Hmmmm . . . I phoned the Peace Corps driver who had been waiting for me and asked him to take me to the Church Street main branch. Danny gave me his card and encouraged me to stop into to see him whenever I was in Pretoria. I bid him to “stay well” in siSwati and promised that I would.

FNB’s Church Street main branch is in downtown Pretoria; parking is a bear so the Peace Corps driver dropped me off and went looking for a place to park and wait for me. It was also the 15^th of the month, the day all government employees get paid and the huge set of buildings was wall-to-wall people. I got into what seemed to be a customer service “que”.

A bank employee approached me and enquired about what my business was. Just for the heck of it, I decided to ask for Vivian – low and behold, Vivian was in the next building over and the employee said she would take me to her. Which she did. Vivian was helping someone at her desk and there was one person waiting to see her as well. I got in line and began doing a behavior that has become quite familiar to me here in South Africa – waiting.

About ½ hour later, it was my turn at Vivian’s desk. I explained my mission to her and gave her my passport. She was able to look up my previous banking information on her computer. She then asked me for a letter from the Peace Corps. What letter? I asked: one stating this and that about my status in South Africa, time frames, etc. I decided that the best thing to do was to have Vivian speak with our Administrative Officer and tell him what the letter needed to say. I called him, explained the situation and handed the phone to Vivian. After a few minutes Vivian hung up the phone and she told me that another Peace Corps driver was going to bring the letter to us at the bank.

There was another “que” waiting to speak with Vivian by this time. But, rather than help someone else while we waited, she began our “visit.” The usual questions about where I was from, what I was doing in South Africa and where etc. Turns out that Vivian has a nephew working in Boston and a sister who left many years ago and lives “somewhere” in California.

South Africa has its homeless population also. Vivian told me that there were many of them who hung around the square that the bank was on. She told me 6 years when she was walking into work one day she had to almost walk over a homeless man. As she did, God spoke to her and said “what are you doing about this?” After thinking about it for a while, she decided to start providing the homeless with “tea” on Friday mornings and enlisted some of her co-workers to help her. That’s how it started and today between 80 and 100 homeless men and women are served a full meal each Friday outside of the bank.

THIS is the spirit of “Ubuntu.”

Vivian told me she had worked for the bank for 35 years and that she was looking forward to retiring in 2 years. THEN, she was going to travel to America and see her relatives. About this time, the second Peace Corps driver arrived with the needed letter. Vivian opened my account and made me a new ATM card after I gave her R50 to deposit into it. Before I left, Vivian asked me for my email address so we could stay in touch. I gave it to her along with my San Diego address and told her to get in touch with me if she makes it to California one day.

Mission accomplished.

I looked around the one room cottage that I live in and realized how dependent I have become on a consistent source of electricity here. Basically, I function with 3 power surge cords.

Into the one in my make-shift kitchen, I always have plugged in my: refridgerator, microwave, tabletop over/stove and my electric kettle. In addition, I plug in my drip-coffee maker and toaster when I need them.

Into the one in my office/desk area, I always have plugged in: my laptop, its external speakers, my ipod, my cell phone charger, and a desk lamp. When I need to charge my second cell phone I plug in its charger too.

In my sleeping area, I always have plugged in: another lamp, my clock radio, my electric heater, my electric toothbrush charger,  and my hairdryer. Should I get a curling iron again, it will also be plugged in when I use it.

SO . . . if I have to share the load again, I am going to be in DEEP doodoo!!

My supervisor, Heather, arrived shortly thereafter with some papers she needed me to sign. She took one look at me and insisted that I spend the night on C4L’s campus (our psyco-social support camps for orphans and vulnerable children had started the previous day) where a nurse could have a look at me and I wouldn’t be alone. So we packed up a few things (rather she packed and I pointed) and with help I hobbled out to her car. Once situated at C4L, the nurse, Nancy, a Canadian volunteer, restarted the RICE procedures and I fell asleep. The next morning, my ankle was very swollen and painful.

I telephoned the Peace Corps and they authorized me to go to the Nelspruit Medical Clinic for evaluation. I was taken to the ER and spent about 4 hours getting seen, xrayed and diagnosed. I had 2 fractures, one of which needed surgery to repair. After consultation with Peace Corps it was decided that I would be transported the Pretoria next day. I was fitted with an aircast (boot), given a pair of crutches and sent on my way.

It was dark by the time we got back to campus and the evening program was going on at the Pavilion. Since this is my favorite part of camp, I hobbled to the closest seat and put my foot up. When it was over, we told the kids that I needed to go to Pretoria the next day. They sang to me, several hugs and lots of praying – it was very touching.

A Peace Corps driver picked me up at 5 am because I had a 9 am appointment with an orthopedic surgeon in Pretoria same day. This doctor looked at my xrays and said that he would not recommend surgery, that I had a simple, uncomplicated fracture and because the bones weren’t displaced I didn’t need an operation. He recommended “six weeks immobilization followed by six weeks of rehabilitation.” Non-Weight-Baring meant lying flat on my back with my leg elevated higher than my heart. I also was given a walker and a follow up appointment in one week.

Back at the Peace Corps Medical office, I gave his instructions to the PCMO (Peace Corps Medical Officer) who mentioned “Washington” for the first time and something about the maximum medical leave allowable was 45 days per incident – considerably shorter than the 12 weeks the doctor had told me it would take for my ankle to heal. She used the term “medical separation” but I was so exhausted by this point that it didn’t register – I just wanted to go to the Rose Guest House and get off my feet.

The next 3 days were a blur but I spent them in bed with my foot elevated as directed. Then it was Monday and I was picked up and taken into the Medical Office to meet with the PCMO. By this time I had figured out that something bad was about to happen. She told me that she would have to notify OMS (Office of Medical Services) in Washington, D. C. of my injury and that any lower leg fracture meant an automatic medical separation from the Peace Corps and a return to the United States, usually within 48 hours of notification. My heart sank. “any use fighting this one” I asked. “No.” This was Washington’s ruling and they have always done it this way.

BUT, she said “you can come back and finish your service.” She told me that once my ankle had healed I could apply to Washington and, once medical cleared, return to complete the remaining 9 months of my Peace Corps service. She assured me that I would not have to go through the entire medical clearance process again; I just had to get medical clearance for the injury that has caused the medical separation. So a plan was made for me to be taken back to my site to pack my things, return to Pretoria and be flown out of the country “as early as Friday.” This was a real shocker – everything seemed to be happening in warp speed.

Tuesday morning a Peace kCorps Driver picked me up and we made the 4-hour drive back to White River. I had asked for a wheelchair so I could ambulate (sort of) once at home while I packed my “stuff” – I was allowed 100 pounds that I could fly out with. Krupa, another Peace Corps volunteer, came over after she finished work to help me. She also made me some curry to take with me the next day. I had until 10 am in the morning to decide what to pack and get it ready. The long and short of it is that I had to leave quite a bit of my “stuff” there, and as I write this its disposition is uncertain.

Wednesday I was driven back to Pretoria and I returned to the Rose Guest house and assumed my previous reclined position. Thursday morning I had a follow-up appointment with the orthopedic surgeon. This time he examined my foot and was aghast at how swollen it had become. He was not pleased when he learned what I had done the 2 previous days. When I told him Peace Corps was planning on flying me back to the States the next day, he said “No Way.” The risk of getting a blood clot was too great. He wrote a letter to Peace Corps stating that I could not fly for 2 weeks minimum – not until the swelling was down. And I was to lie down with my foot elevated – period – and nothing else! I felt relieved because everything had been happening so fast that I had hardly had time to catch my breath. And I was still in considerable pain.

This is the time of year when most Peace Corps Volunteers travel to other parts of South Africa, other countries in Africa or to the U.S. There is a long break from school and almost everything closes down for at least 2-3 weeks over the Christmas/New Years holidays. South Africans are also traveling at this time so the roads are very crowded.  Luckily, some of my fellow PCVs are “passing through” Pretoria and I have had several visitors – a bittersweet experience. It was great to see them but painful to realize that they would be staying “in country” and I would not.

So here I sit – lie I mean – Christmas Day at the Rose. It is a very nice Guest house, the staff is wonderful, breakfast is provided but I am on my own for lunch and dinner. I can use the kitchen to cook my other meals. Doing this in a wheelchair gives me a new appreciation for a lot of things. My friend Brenda, another Peace Corps volunteer and a nurse, spent 7 days/6 nights here with me, cooked my meals, took care of me and kept me company. She left on Sunday for her much-needed vacation and I will not see her again before I leave. I’ve said this before, -- other Peace Corps volunteers are a godsend! I don’t know how I would have gotten along without her help!

Since the day after Christmas, other than being my birthday, is a holiday here “Goodwill Day,” the Peace Corps office will not reopen until Thursday, the 27^th. I am scheduled for another medical follow-up and xray on that day. My ankle has returned to its normal size now and it doesn’t hurt nearly as much. I cannot turn it or put any weight on it without it hurting; but it is only 3 weeks post-injury today. If all continues to go well, I will be flown back to the U.S. “over the weekend.”

So how am I feeling about all this? You name it – I have felt it. It’s all kind of surreal. Sometimes I am in a daze; at other times I am crying like a baby. I am determined to make these last few days in Pretoria happy ones – the grounds here are lovely and I can sit out by the pool and work on the “projects” I have brought along to keep me entertained. I am leaving South Africa with the intention of coming back and finishing my Peace Corps service. It is the best “coping strategy” I can come up with at this time – the one that leaves me feeling the best – to think that this is only a temporary interruption. I may feel differently once I am back in the U.S. and back in the presence of people I love and care about; but, one thing I know is that things will work out – they always do - I just don’t know how yet.