The Return

Pardon the lankiness of this post but there were simply too many words stuck in my head.

I left Botswana on March 6^th. Packed up my limited possessions, gave one last hug to my cat, and locked up the house. I said goodbye to what I had dreamed of for years.

Many know that my father had been struggling with stage 4 colon cancer for the past year. I had decided to join peace corps anyways with the knowledge that if he needs me, I can always come home, but I might never get the chance to pursue peace corps again. At the beginning of March, we found out that his most recent treatment, radiation, not only had no effect but that during the time we were waiting for the radiation to kick in, the tumors had grown back to pre-chemo size. This was a huge setback in his fight and the entire reason I decided to return home on temporary leave to be with my family. I was emotional, worried, and thousands of miles away from them; I couldn’t stop thinking of how I would feel if something worse were to happen. We also learned that without an effective treatment soon, my father could go into liver failure within six months.

After the longest international travel time I have ever had (5 planes, plus an overnight stay in New York City after missing a flight and having to wait for a shuttle outside the airport in -22 degrees in my chacos) I arrived home the day after my dad’s 53^rd birthday. Since I’ve been home, he’s started a new round of chemo that seems to be shrinking the cancer (yay!) but has miserable symptoms (boo!).

The day I returned 

The day before I left, I went into my clinic to get pictures with my coworkers and friends who had served as my guides in this crazy Botswana adventure. I told them, “my family needs me now but I hope to come back, I don’t want to leave.” They responded with prayers, well-wishes, and statements of confidence that my father will get better and I will see them all again. I will never forget the day I texted my counterpart that I wouldn’t be in to the clinic one day because I had found out bad news about my father’s health; as soon as she knocked off, she was at my door to check that I was ok. I was overwhelmed by her compassion for me, still almost a stranger then. This was what surprised me most about Peace Corps; the ability to truly make connections with people.

Me and my counterpart, Neo, in our matching Kang shirts

Not the whole clinic staff but a good portion of them

Of course, Peace Corps is all about relationships. We come to countries in hopes of promoting peace and friendship not only by what we do but by who we interact with. I expected to make friends but I didn’t expect to connect with Batswana in the same way I have connected to my friends in the US; where there is a sense of vulnerability, and complete mutual trust and understanding. Perhaps it was an odd assumption to have, that I would make friends but not deep connections; an assumption that I am entirely glad was proved wrong. Of course, this huge revelation of the connection of humanity across cultures didn’t make my departure any easier.

My favorite little neighbors

This is what I got when I told them to smile

Its been two months and I am both devastated and relieved to be home, and to be staying home. After seeing my dad’s struggle, there was no question in my mind that I would remain in stateside, family is just too valuable, but it didn’t make letting go of Peace Corps any easier.

Its very difficult to write this post and adequately sum up the range of emotions I’ve experienced. In many ways, returning home is easy. America is easy. Its like fitting back into your place in the puzzle, you eventually revert back to your old role and your old habits and ways. There’s so much to do and so much opportunity. And nothing, absolutely nothing, beats the comfort of connecting with other Americans, who are of the same culture, understand the same jokes, and just plain get you! You can share a look with someone in line at a coffee shop and just know that they too are annoyed with the person in front of them ordering 5 very specific drink orders. Its surreal to come home and notice that nothing much changed even though so much changed in my life while in Bots. I am incredibly sad with how quickly Botswana can disappear. People ask me about it, but after that initial conversation it never really comes up again. It feels like it was merely a good dream rather than 7 months of my life.  

I can’t help but associate early terminating my service with quitting. Even though I had a very valid reason for returning home, I didn’t finish what I set out to do. I had barely started projects and was just beginning so much. Sure I can spin my resume to reflect all the cultural and language barriers I overcame, my highly practiced interpersonal skills, and the work I did to set the base for my projects but when it comes down to it I can’t get the sense of failure out of my head. Worst of all, I had to end something that I actually enjoyed doing. Despite its ups and downs, I loved Peace Corps for what it was and for the people I had the opportunity to meet, both Batswana and other PCV’s. And, this is pretty pity party of me to say, but I didn’t even get the chance to travel much within Botswana or out, though I loved Kang, I only really saw my small plot of the desert. I didn’t even see elephants in the elephant capital of the world! I miss it all and all of the promises of adventure and new experiences Peace Corps held.

I don’t regret my decision to return home; I could never regret the choice to spend more time with my family when time doesn’t seem as infinite as it used to. Life continues and for the immediate future, Peace Corps will continue to feel like a big part of it, but eventually those memories will fade filled with new adventures whether domestic or abroad. I am sad and still grieving what my service could have been and will be impatiently waiting for the chance when my goodbye’s to peace corps friends can become hello’s again. But I am thankful that I got to experience all of the craziness and wonderfulness of Botswana and Peace Corps for without it I would just be left wondering.

Hi my name is ________

Names are very personal. Whether we like our names or not they become a part of our identity. They can affect how others see and relate to us, sometimes reflecting our age or comparing us to other’s of the same name.

I am not Laura in Botswana.

Not many people here know my English name. I like it that way. It gives me a sense of anonymity when I am anything but anonymous. Mentally, it allows me to compartmentalize parts of my life. In the village I am Kefilwe. I am positive, always willing to help or volunteer, somewhat chatty and full of questions, and often seen as strange but mystifying.

Names are anything but simple in Botswana. Rather than choosing a combination of letters for how they sound, or passing names on through generations, Batswana name their children with sentences. Yes. Sentences. Or possibly characteristics and sometimes surprisingly random English names. Imagine someone being called “Iamhappy.” No doubt, Batswana names are fascinating.

Take my name: Kefilwe. In Setswana it is a combination of words creating the phrase “I have been given.” Ke (I) – Filwe (past tense of the verb “to give”). As many of us fledgling volunteers were awkwardly sitting in our host family’s living rooms our first night in Serowe, we were granted these names. Because of our sudden appearance into these families, many PCV names relate to gifts: Neo, Mpho, Kefilwe, Refilwe.

Many parents name their children based on what is happening at the moment of their birth. If it is raining they might name their child Motlalepula (one who brings rain) or after giving birth the self-explanatory Kelapile (I am tired) or the simple Otsile (he has come). If they have only had girls they can name their child Mosetsanagape (girl again)… or the even more interesting Barulaganye (they come immediately one after the other) and correspondingly Gadifele (this will never end).

There are many that highlight the difficulties of giving birth and general frustrations of life: Keikanyemang (who should I trust), Didimalang (be quiet), Goitsemang (who knows), Kenosi (I am alone), Kibibonye (I’ve seen it all), and the very apt Keboletse (I told you so)

Others are named for the hope of what they might become: Kgosi (chief), Moagi (builder), Mogotsi (fire builder), Mothusi (a helper).

Some Setswana names can be quite the mouthful: Goitsemodimo (God knows), Resegotetse (we are blessed), and Kelebogile (I am thankful).

Some simply represent life’s simple pleasures: Boitumelo (happiness), Botshelo (life), Lesego (luck), Kagiso (peace), Tshepo (trust).

….Then there are the English names. Babies come into the clinic everyday to get weighed. I take the greatest pleasure in seeing the strange combinations of English/Setswana translations and random English names that pop up. Everything from Princess, Memory, Comfort, Beauty, to names like Ralph, Helen, Boyboy, Dorcus, and my all-time favorites Economy and Enrique

My favorite ice-breaker when meeting a new Motswana is to ask them what their name means and with such variety these names never fail to amuse me. Names can form your identity, but in Botswana they say so much more.

Even the coke names have Setswana names!

6 Months In

It’s a bit crazy that 6 months have already passed here in Hotswana (not a spelling mistake). That’s half a year people! I’ve graduated from a Botswana baby to a teedling toddler averse in Setswana, cultural norms, and bucket baths. Though still a bit unsteady on my feet, things are starting to pick up. If you are a regular of my blog you know that I just spent the last two weeks of January in the capital city gorging myself on food, chillin’ in aircon, and drowning in hot showers along with venting, sharing, and celebrating with my fellow Bots 15’s. The real purpose of us coming all together, besides mental breaks from village life, was for in-service training (IST) where we learned technical skills applicable to our sites and preparing us to start projects. Some training was useful, some, not so much but any excuse to enjoy buffets and AC is positive in my book! I can’t say that my return to my village felt like “coming home,” but it was nice to know that people noticed I was gone and are happy to see me back. My clinic is keeping me busy with a variety of miscellaneous projects at the moment and things are looking promising for some activities in the near future.

For now, enjoy this guest post from a fellow Bots 15 on my favorite part of training, The Kings Foundation!

https://thelifeserendipitous.wordpress.com/2015/01/26/playtime/

Learning one of the Kings Foundation games

These huge red back packs contain all sorts of sports e

Enjoying some much desired Mexican food!

Reunited with my Bots 15s

Ngawa O Mosha

2014 was a humongous stomach-jerking roller coaster of a year. Perhaps a recap post is just as annoying as the lazy flashback episodes of TV series that don’t progress the plot at all but I’m doing it anyways.

January

2014 started off pretty lackluster with the monotony of continuing a boring desk job scanning medical charts for a primary care office. The monotony only lifted during occasional office potlucks and the “parade” of EMT’s who’d stop by about once a week to ambulate an elderly patient. But January ended pretty well with my first trip out to Fiji to visit Max where he served in Peace Corps. The lush tropical greenery and turquoise waters made the mind-numbing hours put into that scanning job worth it. No joke, the first thing I thought upon exiting the airport in Botswana was how it couldn’t be more opposite of the lush green oasis of an island that is Fiji.

February

February was back to the states and more tedious work. Spring arrives early in AZ, practically on the heels of Santa’s sleigh so many hiking trips and outdoor fun was had.

March

March wasn’t so great. We first heard the diagnosis of my dad’s colon cancer the week of his 52^nd birthday. Blindsided, it hit our family hard and of course my dad the hardest after just recovering from a dramatic leg injury following a bike crash two years previously. Just when he had regained movement again and the ability to reclaim his hobbies of hiking, camping, and yardwork, life was pushing him back down. He began his long road to recovery with surgery to remove a large part of his colon and lots and lots of jello. Despite the blow of this life-altering diagnosis, my dad has battled for his life head on and continues to be an inspiring source of positive energy and an emotional rock for our entire family. Without a doubt, this cancer diagnosis has not debilitated my dad as I know him. It has limited his body, sure, but not his sense of being or who he is. Since diagnosis, I have seen my dad smile more, laugh more genuinely and relish in the things he likes to do like hiking and camping. Cancer is not going to prevent him from living life and for that he is my greatest inspiration. As horrible and frightening as this cancer is, I think it has brought us closer as a family and served to wake us up from days of merely lazing about in our own little worlds to truly valuing and pursuing time spent together.

April

April continued the bad news train. As I was preparing to leave for Peace Corps service in Mozambique in May; studying Portuguese, packing, and planning my going away party, I was told that I couldn’t receive final medical clearance because of my history of kidney stones. I was devastated. After applying over a year ago and being stuck in the purgatory that is Peace Corp’s application process, I wasn’t sure I could go through it again, especially now that my dad has cancer. I argued. I used everything I could to try and convince the Peace Corps medical staff that I was medically fit; completely healthy, and completely prepared to depart in less than 50 days. But they wouldn’t budge. They rescinded my invitation and put me back in the system. I was lucky to work with my recruiter again who promised me he would “find me a home” as I broke into tears on the phone. I was offered a second invitation to serve in Botswana departing in August. Still bitter about Moz and not thrilled about having to wait an additional 3 months I eventually accepted the invitation knowing that it was really my last chance.

            April then continued as planned with my second visit out to Fiji. The idea was to visit every 6 months if we could afford it, but because I thought I was departing in May I had booked the trip sooner. The trip was a blast and a needed break from all the stressors of home and Peace Corps. We booked a week at Octopus Resort on a small island off of Vanua Levu. It was heavenly, I still dream of it to this day. Days of lazing on the beach, snorkeling, and reading, and evenings of dinner with tourists from all over world along with the unexpected fun of hermit crab races, trivia night, and falling asleep to the sound of the waves made for the ideal vacation.

My Parents on their anniversary, April Fools Day

being goofs

an even bigger goof

May and June

May continued the Fiji vacay and ended with the return of Max to America. Coming home earlier than planned he decided that Peace Corps just wasn’t for him and instead decided to pursue grad school. June was an uneventful month full of work and fun with friends and family.

July

July, my last month in America, was mostly consumed with a whirlwind road trip with Max through 5 states and two national parks. We drove for what felt like forever, catching far to many bugs on our windshield to visit Glacier National Park in northern Montana. Having lived in the Grand Canyon state for my whole life, I can’t think of a prettier site than huge pine trees, alpine lakes, and snow-capped mountains.  Every picture I took felt like a postcard. The trip continued with a few nights in Yellowstone hanging out with the bison and elk before heading home to spend my final week with family and friends.

August

In August, I finally departed for Botswana to become a Peace Corps Trainee. Taking one last tear-filled look at my family and giving multiple squeezing hugs to Max I left Arizona behind on my way to Philly where I met up with the 70-something strangers that would later become some of my closest friends and allies here in Bots. We traveled on turbulent flights, waited for hours in airports, and were hijacked of sleep by PC staff hoping to wave off our jetlack; no doubt we had formed bonds already. After a couple days of staging, introductions, and countless ice-breakers our group was quickly separated and distributed to various host families throughout the village of Serowe. Our training commenced.

September

Pre-service training continued throughout the month of September with hours of Setswana lessons, safety and security training, and countless other powerpoints and presentations that blend together in my head. Despite being a larger group, it is amazing how quickly friends turn to family when you are thrown into a new country, bored to death by repetitive information, and share all the culture shock and nuances together.  We struggled through, dispersed to various locals of Bots to shadow current volunteers, and returned to find out where our new homes were to be for the next two years. Realizing our foreboding separation we all valued the last few weeks together and yet were itching to depart on the adventure we all signed up for.

October

In the middle of October we were finally sworn in as Bots 15, the 15^th group of volunteers in Botswana since they returned in the early 2000’s. As soon as we had arrived in Serowe and experienced the ups and downs of homestay life, we were heading out to establish the foundation of our new homes and service.  I was placed in Kang, a medium village in the Kgalagadi Desert. Sandy and hot, I settled into my new life here.

November

November continued the struggle of getting to know new names and faces. I woke up everyday, trudged through the sand to my clinic where I would sit, observe, and ask a lot of questions. As new volunteers we aren’t allowed to start projects till after our training in January so my time was filled with a lot of stationary immobilization and trying to escape the heat. I began investigating answers and info for my community assessment which is a comprehensive report about every aspect of the village which serves to build support and awareness for future projects. November ended with fantastic weekend of food and wine as I celebrated Thanksgiving with other desert volunteers.

December

December was much the same as November, not much happening but there was the fantastical addition of the rainy season. Nearly every other day, the dark clouds would roll in on calls of thunder and fill my little desert with water. It was like magic! Where there was before just sticks and sand, there was now greenery and leaves and weeds (though I’ve now found out the treachery of these weeds, the thorns that appear after the rains leave…). I celebrated a low-key Christmas with my neighbors and received the best Christmas present as Max flew in the next day.

The fantastic health fair put on in my village for the whole region

The area of my yard I've cleared out for a garden

Christmas Day with this cutie

Sukiri

So there it is. 2014 in words and pictures upon pictures (a chore for any internet connection to load). No matter what 2015 brings I’m sure it will continue to be a testament to perseverance, joy, love, and homesickness, new adventures and mundane days, it will be a year exploration inside and out.