As my time in the village begins to wrap up, I keep thinking about how I’ve spent the last two years of my life. I’ve been having lots of surreal moments lately, as I think about how normal my incredibly abnormal life has become. Problems I considered insurmountable when I arrived have become the main focus of my service. I remember when I first saw the garden at my school, my only thought was “Well, there’s NO way I am getting a school garden up and running. Better kiss that dream good-bye.”
Those of you who follow my blog regularly, feel free to laugh along with me!
As you might know, I am more or less the garden teacher, and have been described as the Garden Guru amongst my fellow PCVs. It just goes to show that huge problems can be tackled, one tiny step at a time.
I would be doing a disservice if I pretended everything was peachy keen and hunky dory in my little village. In fact, very little outside the school grounds has changed in the past two years. Sometimes I wonder why in the world I decided starting gardens on the edge of the Kalahari Desert was a good idea. When I step back and consider the almost indescribable poverty and hardship in my village, I start to lose it.
Simply put, I cannot adequate describe what life in my South African village is like. It’s too difficult, for many different reasons. Partly because I’m an American that was raised like a princess compared to how the children in my village grow up. I can’t verbalize the storm of emotions that rages within me, nor can I eloquently state the realities of this life. I live in it; it’s too personal and at the same time too foreign.
And since you can’t all come and see for yourself, I asked a friend to write about her experiences working with rural schools in our province, the North West Province. Tomorrow I’ll be posting a guest post focusing on the realities of life in villages like mine. Sue is a dear friend of mine, who I met a little over a year ago at a workshop in a nearby school. She has travelled throughout the country for the past twenty years, teaching permaculture to rural schools like mine. I wanted you to understand what this life is like from someone who is a South African at heart, and who so intimately understands the struggles and hopes of the people I live among.
Sue will discuss the dire circumstances that schools like mine, who are trying to produce their own food, face in the wake of a changing climate and rising food prices, amongst all the other challenges they face. Climate change is real, people, and villages like mine are taking the first and hardest blows. I hope you check in tomorrow to read Sue’s message and begin to understand what the kids and people in villages like mine face each day.