MST (Mid-Service Training)

Last week I went to MST (Mid-Service Training) which was conveniently about 50 km from my village. This is our 4th training of our service-PST, IST, LST were the first three-and the last before our COS conference next June. The first three focused on the acquisition of skills that would help us better do our jobs. This one was more about reflection: where I felt I was in regards to my projects, my mental and physical well-being and what I planned to do with the few remaining months of my service.

We did an exercise to help us reflect on how we were feeling about being here now. There were several choices: I'm doing what I came here to do; I made a commitment and I'm sticking with it; I'm ready to go home now; I am happy with where I am right now; I am really making a difference in the lives of the people I'm working with, etc. It was really tough to say I felt more with one than the other since I experience all of those mental states often more than one in a day.

Some weeks I sit in my room for several days straight leaving only when I need to use the toilet or throw out water from bathing or cooking. These times I am usually craving the convenience of home: hot shower, large kitchen, cable television, carpeted floors. This often results when I have had a close succession of failures or disappointment.

Some days I wonder why I even bother. I ask someone to do something simple that has the potential to greatly benefit them but they don't do it. I waste 2 hours waiting for people to come to a meeting that they don't show up for but then wait for the next time they see me to explain why they didn't come. An educator tells me they will have something done at a certain time but don't do it until I'm sitting there holding their hand. These days make me crave American efficiency and accountability that makes it so much easier to get things done.

Some days I resent the laziness of the people when they walk up to me and greet me or don't and then ask me for "5 bob" (R.50) to buy sweets (candy) or R2 for a drag (cigarette), or R5 to buy food (which is often requested by someone sitting in a shabeen or tavern drunk holding a beer. I of course can't give them money because then everyone else will ask me for money citing that I gave money to another person so why not them?

All too often I am seen as a walking bag of money because I'm white instead of the person who I am with the qualities I possess. I thought that being white in America made me feel like just another spoke in the wheel who was completely average. Despite many people who know who I am and what I'm here doing, those same people will still say "give me R__". It makes me miss the non-discriminatory beggars in the U.S. who have manners.

Sometimes I'll be laying in my bed or sitting outside just thinking about my day completed thinking, "Wow, I'm in South Africa". I could be in the U.S. working an 8-5 job where I'm performing the same mundane activities day in and day out but I'm not. I am living in a village, sometimes without running water and electricity, learning and experiencing a very different culture. I feel very lucky knowing that few others get this opportunity. These are the days that I really enjoy.

As I navigate the last eleven months of my service and try to "leave my mark" I keep in mind that it is a very short time that I am here. I often crave the convenience and comfort of my previous life. However, I keep in mind that in a few years, I may be sitting in an insulated building with carpets, running water, and dependable electricity, longing for all of the adventure and experience that I gained during my life of inconvenience and discomfort.