precipitation

My mind seems to be developing some nasty stretch marks due to all the rapid expanding and shrinking it’s been doing lately. One moment, it feels as if the world is huge, and I can’t possibly handle the sensory and intellectual overload– combies flying at me from the wrong direction, giant ears of corn grilling on the street corners, horrific news about countries next door [more on that later], and rapid paced sentences in language I don’t comprehend. And then, suddenly, everything is small again. A kid is squeezing my band-aided finger and I’m dozing under a pile of four year olds. This same phenomenon has also led me to a greater faith in the elasticity of time and space (non-scientifically). A minute knows neither minimums nor maximums, and may choose its width at will.

Not much has been happening in the physical sense – the past two days have been tired blurs of children and web-surfing, and I find myself longing for a little excitement. Both Abby and I are having some trouble negotiating our role at work – the day care sees a lot of temporary volunteers, so we sometimes feel excessive. It is also hard to find alternative ways to communicate important messages to kids who don’t speak English. For example, we can’t have the normal “this is good behavior, this is bad behavior” chats, and we also have trouble conveying the rules to games, instructions for lessons, and commanding their attention.

The other issue is that technically, I am an assistant to permanent teachers at the day care, and thus have to be careful not to flout their authority. One woman I work with uses a long thin stick to “beat” the kids on the head (her word not mine – I’d describe it as somewhere between a tap and a crack) - something that makes me extremely uncomfortable. Whether or not the discipline is deserved, I cannot condone corporal punishment (although the village courts do), and yet cannot bring myself to reprimand the teacher. Who am I to tell this devoted woman that this is incorrect? I’m only here for two months with these kids, and she’s packing years. Even if I think I’m “right” (violence only begets violence – I’ve seen the kids beat each other), and can present studies to prove it, it’s still a very awkward situation.

The weather today was unseasonably dark and cold, and I found myself particularly frustrated with the way things were running. I felt apathy seeping in with the chill, and it was a terrible sensation. I really must find a way to make myself useful in such a fashion that will uniquely benefit Kamogelo. I don’t want to provide the same general product as all volunteers – the children need as much love as they can get, but most anyone can give that. Hopefully I can devise something that will fully utilize both my compassion and my skills - raising the question: what are they? More meditation is necessary. Basically, I’m grasping for a justification for my presence and praying it will arrive quickly. This is not to discount the importance of kindness and hugs and tear-wiping, but I also know that a slightly bigger impact is possible. (right?)

Switching lanes (as combies often do abruptly), I want to write a bit more about something previously mentioned. The current situation in Zimbabwe is absolutely appalling, and each new piece of news horrifies me even more. If you haven’t yet read, Mugabe has suspended all of CARE’s humanitarian work within Zimbabwe – an insane and paranoid move, “justified” by his suspicion that the organization was promoting the opposition party and an “illegal regime change.” CARE is one of many NGOs whose important relief efforts have been impeded by Mugabe’s decrees, and it is obvious that the people of Zimbabwe are suffering as a result. This news hit particularly close to home (and not only by geographical proximity), because Mugabe has apparently been targeting teachers as opposition supporters and orphans are particularly affected by a disturbance in relief work. The thought of the kids at Kamogelo going hungry because of an irrational old man makes me completely sick.

Additionally, as if border problems weren’t bad enough already, a further cut in aid would only logically result in a greater surge in the illegal exodus. What with immigration tension already so high in South Africa (and even here), it is just terrible to think of more people being forced out of their country and into unwelcoming territory.

I am by no means the most well informed of observers, nor do I claim any authority on the history of this political conflict. However, from what I have seen, read, and assessed, I am terribly worried and saddened by this constant news of decline.

Now, as the clock creeps forward towards the next day, the rain strangely mimics Zimbabwe's precipitation. Although it’s supposed to be bone dry in winter, the heavens have opened and let loose with fury. Socks and leggings hugging tight, I bid goodnight.