A letter to the new intake.

Congratulations on being accepted into Peace Corps, and even more, to Peace Corps Zambia. My name is Caitlin, and I’m a volunteer in Lundazi, Eastern Province, working under the Community Health Improvement Project (CHIP). I’ve now been in country for 22 months, making me the intake which yours will be replacing, and meaning that exactly two years ago, I was in the same exact place you are now. It’s been a crazy ride, it’s absolutely flown by, and as slowly as time seems to tick through the days here, I can’t believe how quickly the days do turn to weeks and then months, to years. If you’re anything like me, serving in the Peace Corps has been a dream of yours and you’ve no doubt jumped through many hoops, stressed out a bit, and gave up other opportunities to get to where you are now- about a month or so away from leaving and embarking on this journey to the mysterious land of Africa. Maybe you second guess if you can really do this for two years- leave behind your family, friends, pets, job, car, flat screen tv, toilet, and other luxuries (yes, a toilet is a luxury!). I know I had doubts. That’s okay, that’s normal. Its good to sit down and assess if this is really right for you. Those things need to be considered because Peace Corps, and definitely Peace Corps Zambia, isn’t right for everyone. I’ll be honest, you definitely are going to miss out on a lot back home. Your first Christmas or Birthday alone in a foreign country might be really difficult. You’ll miss out on weddings, friends giving birth, and even funerals. You’ll miss concerts, parties, and just being able to hang out with friends whenever and wherever. You’ll miss out on strawberry margaritas with salted rims, on a hot summer day by the pool. You’ll miss being able to hop in your car and just drive- drive till you get tired, or run out of gas, or the road no longer runs smooth (and, trust me, roads will never run smooth here). I get it, you’re giving up a lot. But you’re going to gain so much more.

            Think of all the life you’ll get to live, all the things you’ll get to see, do, experience. All of the stories you’ll have to tell. Your friends back home won’t have those stories, those experiences. This is such a unique adventure, jump in and take the risk! Things back home will continue on as they always have; your life is going to change completely. And man is that the truth. When you return, even if it's for a short visit during your service, you will see how, while your world has drastically transformed, a lot of the life you left behind hasn't. You'll have a hard time fitting in again. You'll have a hard time relating to people. You'll have a hard time accepting that everyone seems so selfish, or naiive, or careless and wasteful. It's a really hard culture shock, but it's something that will make you a much better equipped person to deal with the world as it becomes smaller each day. You'll be ready to understand and embrace the changes in the world; you'll be able to care and relate more to how others suffer; you'll be able to live life more passionately, go with the flow, and problem solve with MacGyver-tenacity.

            Maybe you’re a female, like me, and your parents are absolutely terrified of you going to live in Africa, like mine probably were. I get that that’s a rational fear, but in America, we have such a negative, dark view of Africa being a dangerous continent, and it’s really not. There are definitely some countries here that might not be the safest, but people don’t just walk around attacking others, or passing out AIDs. Anything can happen to anyone, anywhere in the world, at any time. Ironically, I feel so much safer here than I would in most places back home. Zambia is rated in the Top 5 Friendliest countries; Zambian people are exceptionally warm and welcoming. This place has so quickly stolen my heart, the land has swiftly become my home, and the people briskly and indubitably have come to be my family.

            Safety and Security is Peace Corps biggest concern for us, and they do an excellent job of ensuring that, as much as they can. Their responses to concerns are timely and done in a really supportive manner. In the village, not only will PC have come and assessed your site and how safe that area is, but no doubt your community members will be there to look out for you and protect you to no end. I feel safe enough in my area to be out after dark and go running by myself down bushpaths I've never explored. I’ve never had anyone bother me at my hut, but my host family and I have all set up boundaries that people are aware of and respect. Village men know that if they’ve been drinking, they’re not allowed anywhere near me or my hut, and they honor that. The people here will help you; they will protect you. And if your village isn't the right fit for you, Peace Corps will step in and do all that they can to help you feel more comfortable, if not move you somewhere else.

            If it gives you and your parents peace of mind, take a self-defense class. I took Women’s Self-Defense and Street Tactics prior to coming, and its one of the best things I could have done for myself and my life, regardless of coming to Zambia. It’s something I highly recommend for all women of any age. It’s important to know how to protect yourself and keep a calm mind in the midst of chaos. I also carry a knife on me a lot, mostly when I’m traveling. Not because I feel the need to use it here, but better safe than sorry, right? Plus, knives are super handy. You never know when you’ll need to slice a mango, or cut some rope, or kill a chicken. Either way, do what you need to do to feel safe and comfortable, and assure your parents that you’re going to be fine. Other suggestions that helped my parents cope was to have them attend Parent Nights that PC and RPCV’s offered, to listen to other parents accounts of how they dealt with their child being in PC. Or, have them read other volunteers blogs. Reading Zam blogs really helped me prepare for what my life might look like here! 
          But aside from all the reading and all the preparing that you can do at home, my best advice is to jump right in. Let this experience be your experience, not any one elses. Don't try to shape it off of how your childhood babysitters' daughters' friends' cousins' experience was in Uzbekistan. Or what you read on some silly blog (like this one..). What you put into this is what you get out of it, like so many things in life. If you have an open mind and a positive attitude, and are ready for anything (and seriously, I mean ANYTHING), then you're going to do great here. Embrace Murpheys Law, because in Zambia, if things can go wrong, they most likely will go wrong. But that's okay, because it always ends up being an adventure. And you will always grow in more ways than one as a person because of it. You will learn things here that you never thought could be possible; that you were never really interested in, or ever saw having an interest in. I went from Silicon Valley girl to farmer and chicken-rearer within a year.. and I'm not even an Ag Volunteer! You will accomplish many great things. You will learn a new language, plus a few phrases in about 10 other African tribal languages. You will learn that the most basic of health care, making splints out of sticks or whatever you have around, actually works, and while fancy Western medicine and technology can be extremely convenient and helpful, it's possible to have a healthy and safe child delivery on the mud floor of a hut by candlelight. You will be able to come up with solutions to almost every problem imaginable, like mending your shoe with a piece of old bike tire tube and a fire, or using dirt from the ground to wash your pots when you're out of soap, or how to make pizza from scratch over a small fire.... The lists go on.
         You're going to sleep under the blanket of a million stars you never knew existed. You're going to have your entire night lit by the brightest, biggest moon you've ever seen, and realize that a few nights out of every month, you don't even need a flashlight to get around outside. You will witness the most astounding sunrises, along with the even more breathtaking sunsets which span across a seemingly never-ending sky. You're going to sit around the fires of your village at night, laughing with people who are so purely, truly happy. Who will sing you songs, feed you, offer you everything they have even when they don't have anything. You will be engrossed in a culture and a people so beautiful and rich that you forget that there is inhumanity in the world. You're going to travel throughout Zambia and many parts of Africa and find that it is a place that could never be explained with the right words or pictures, it's just something that everyone has to experience. Because it's so different. And it's so electric and full of life and love.

          And aside from the Zambian family that you will surely have a tearful time leaving after two years, you're going to gain a Peace Corps family as well. The volunteers that you meet in Philly before you fly out will be your backbone and support through the first 3 challenging months of training (just get through it!!!), and they'll be there standing with you at the end when you ring that final bell, and collect your Pin of Service. The volunteers that are in your Province, of all programs, will be your lifeline and your teachers throughout your service. And the volunteers that are in your district, your closest neighbors, will likely become your closest friends- as you'll get to bike to eachothers sites, camp together and share all your joys and frustrations of life at your hut. The Lusaka staff, another extension of family, is amazing, sweet, and knowledgeable. You will always be able to reach out to them, and they will provide for you, sustain you, encourage and console you throughout your 27 months here.

   

So cheers to you, CHIP '14. You are about to embark on the odyssey of a life time. I hope that you enjoy it and come to love this country as much as so many of us have and do. Because once Africa is in your heart and pumps in your blood, it will be a part of you for your entire life. 

It was the best of times... it was the worst of times...

These last few months have been emotionally difficult for me, in different areas of my life. When we were in our Pre-Service Training of Peace Corps, they told us how this experience would be an emotional roller-coaster, full of our highest highs and our lowest lows. They said how difficult it would be at times to cope; I pretty much laughed it off. I’m typically a happy-go-lucky person, really easy to please, and hard to upset. I make the best out of what is given to me, and I try to always look at the bright side of things. I had no idea that this flurry of uncontrollable emotions was going to hit me during my last 6 months of service. I’ve become so emotional lately –maybe it’s my hormones going crazy- but literally everything makes me cry. When my best friend got engaged, and then married, I bawled my eyes out. When I read a book about a Holocaust survivor, I tear up. Watching people hug in greeting or goodbye at the airport brings ever-flowing tears to my eyes. Thinking about my service ending…well…nothing upsets me more, or more often.

Walking around town today in my provincial capital, I realized a few things. One: that I look at this place a whole different way now. I try and soak it all up, because I know that very shortly, I will be leaving here.. I’m consciously trying to remember the sites, the colors, the smells, the people. Two, I feel completely at ease and in my element here. No longer do I ask other PCVs to head to town with me, so that I don’t have to go alone (only to split the cost of an outrageously priced $2 taxi). While company is always nice, I feel comfortable alone. I feel like it is also my home, no longer that I am a stranger in a foreign land. I know my way around, and if I don’t, I have no reservations in stopping and asking someone where something is. I don’t feel out of place, I don’t feel like a fool. I’m so settled that it’s not even strange to me that I’m hearing conversations in a foreign language. It’s no longer strange to me that I’m greeting random people, in another language. It doesn’t even phase me when I switch between 4 different languages as different people greet me in 4 different languages. It all comes and flows out naturally, it’s not something that I have to think about. This place is in my blood. This place is my home. This is what feels natural to me. There are no more surprises.

I’m no longer in the designing-of-projects-and-programs-at-site mood, I’m more in the mood to just sit and be. To be with the people of my village, my kids, my students, my staff, my counterparts, my friends, my family. And as much as I feel like there’s still so much more that I could do and want to do, I realize that I don’t have enough time to get involved in a lot of things anymore. I realize that time is probably better spent, and more meaningfully spent, if I just be present. If I sit and have sima and speak Tumbuka with the only people I’ll ever be able to realistically sit and eat sima and speak Tumbuka with again.

I’m no longer as adamant about improving my hut and adding to it, but rather in taking it down and starting to give all of my things away. I want to leave here with nothing more than a backpack on my back, a facebook full of pictures, and a lifetime full of memories. It’s insane how easy it is to detach myself from worldly goods, as now I know that I can live and prosper with nothing. I prepare now to pass instruments, information, and tools on to my replacement volunteer, rather than prepare personal trappings to make for an easier time on myself. 

Getting ready to leave this awe-inspiring, timeless place is bittersweet. I think I was very fortunate to have been in Lusaka as the last group of volunteers that precedes my intake rang a bell, signifying the end of their service in Zambia. It was really heart breaking, but also eye opening. Seeing their camaraderie as they hugged each other congratulations and good bye- people whom have been on this roller coaster with them for the last 27 months- really touched my heart. It made me think about how I’m not really close with many people in my own intake, but rather those of other groups. It made me think how I wish I were closer with my intake, as we should be a family, being together in Philly on July 17, 2012, up until this date in Zambia. It made me feel sad, as they all sat there and reminisced, because it made me reminisce too. It made me realize how much I shouldn't take for granted over the next few months; how I need to embrace and cherish every last bit. This has been the quickest two years of my life. This has been the best two years of my life. I can’t believe how quickly it’s winding down; how soon I’m going to have to be saying my good byes as well. I don’t want this to end. I would do it all over again, in a heartbeat. How can I walk away from all of this? This is tearing me apart inside, even as I sit here writing this, with 4.5 months left to go. I can’t believe I have to say goodbye to what has become my home, my family, my life, my heart. I’m not ready for this to be over, and I have no idea how I’m going to survive it.

2013.. And that's a wrap.

One of Peace Corps famous catchphrases is "PC: The Toughest Job You'll ever love. This is definitely a job that I love, but it's not that tough. Sure, people show up late to meetings (or not at all), they rarely follow through with projects, they learn one thing and do the opposite,  and they demand money for volunteering, but the work isn't tough. Maybe its the living in a different culture that's supposed to be tough, but if so, then I really lucked out with the village and country I was placed in, because I really love where I live. Perhaps it's the living conditions...a lot of people back home would find this way of life unmanageable or impossible, but, again, I find joy in the simple lifestyle that a mud hut without electricity or running water encourages. There are definitely challenges and frustrations here, and those might be different than what I've known back home, but that doesn't make life here tough, it makes life interesting. I am constantly being forced to think on my toes, be creative, and to have more patience than I have ever known. Because of this job, I will be better suited to deal with anything that comes my way in the future.

In my future home, I will never become too worked up about a leaky roof; a flooded house; a soaked bed; moldy clothes; children soaked in their own urine or other children's urine; cockroach, termite, spider, flying insect, or ant (biting or non) infestations; power outages; broken air conditioners or water heaters, because I'll have dealt with all of these things on a daily basis for over 2 years. No gas stove? No problem! I now know how to build a fine and cook just about any meal imaginable over it, including loaves of bread and cakes. I'll have no problem walking for many miles or biking for even more if the gas prices get too high. I'll be able to budget, live on a dime, and grow my own food. Being without a phone, computer, or internet for days on end wouldn't bother me, should there be an apocalypse. If I'm stranded in nature, I'll have the courage and
know-how to kill, skin, gut, and preserve an animal. I'll also always be able to tell the time, down to the half-hour, just by looking towards the sky at the sun. I'll look at weevils in my food as an extra source of protein. I could probably build my own house out of local materials; in fact, I can build almost anything out of almost everything. I'll be able to enjoy the world and all that it has to offer; to appreciate the earth and all that it gives, including death, because death is a part of the beautiful cycle of life. I'll be able to survive, in any condition, anywhere in the world. All because I took a chance at "the toughest job I'll ever love," I am a stronger, more understanding, more compassionate, and happier person than I ever was before.

2013 saw many successes, joys and opportunity for growth,  along with a few failures and life lessons. In January, shortly after shaving off my entire head of hair, a S.A. truck driver took me to an abandoned parking lot against my will, and I found that I have the ability to maintain a calm, sound mind in a moment of panic, and get myself safely out of a potentially dangerous situation. In February I started a girl's club at a school which, with its successes throughout the year, has now been recognized by the Deputy Head and the Department Education Board for playing a part in reducing pregnancy rates and encouraging girls to stay in school. In March I traveled to Malawi for the first time and achieved my scuba diving certificate. April was dedicated to all things Malaria, and although one of my good friends and counterparts sadly passed away to cerebral malaria, I was recognized in May for doing the most education and prevention work out of all Peace Corps Volunteers in Africa during the month of April. In May I also conquered a 125 mile bike ride in a day, started a boys club, and my best friend came to visit. Emily and I traveled to Livingstone where we saw Victoria Falls, played with lion cubs, rode elephants, walked lions, ran cheetahs, booze cruised with hippos, rafted the Zambezi River with crocodiles, and had tea with zebras and monkeys at sunset. She biked 23 km to my village where she worked with me, plotted in the killing of a chicken for dinner, played with little African children, learned some Tumbuka, and complained about the poor internet coverage and lack of Wi-Fi ;) At the end of her visit we relaxed on the lake in Malawi. In July and August, Peace Corps flew me to South Africa to be pampered before, during, and after a wrist surgery, while back in Zambia my fallen-apart hut was being rebuilt. In October I celebrated my 24th birthday in my village with friends, re-dedicated myself as a volunteer as I entered into my second and final year of service, and then I took off to Namibia. There I climbed sand dunes, camped in the desert, drank delicious German beer at Oktoberfest, and drove alongside numerous wild animals. I ate kudu, ostrich, crocodile, springbok, oryx, and zebra. Upon return to Zambia, we swam in the Devils Pool on the top edge of Victoria Falls as the sun set. In November, with the help of Steve, I put on a weeklong health training workshop in my community, the results of which I am extremely proud of. I celebrated Thanksgiving surrounded by over 40 other volunteers, including my best-friend-turned-boyfriend, all of whom have become an even larger extension of my ever-growing family around the world. In December I was chosen to co-facilitate an HIV workshop for other PCVs and their Zambian counterparts; I started raising laying hens; and a counterpart of mine and I were recognized on multiple radio stations and in a magazine interview for all of the HIV work we've done together. I spent Christmas lakeside in Malawian paradise with some amazing people; the only way it could have been more perfect is if my family was there, too (its hard to be away during the holidays).

In 2013 I stayed fairly healthy (aside from meningitis, a staph infection, a broken wrist, stomach ulcers, and the probable shistosomiasis or other parasites and bacterias floating around inside of me). I learned a foreign language well enough to be able to have a conversation, teach, and write a full letter in it. Two baby girls were named after me, Acaity and Caitilinni. I got to name a baby boy, Reptar Phiri (...Phiri means mountain). All 3 of those children are destined for greatness. I grew my first ever garden. I read over 60 books. I taught village kids, school students, adults, elders, men, women, headmen, chiefs, strangers. I learned even more from them. I played, danced, laughed, cried, hurt, rejoiced. I rejoiced more than I hurt. I laughed until I cried.I grew. I became better.

2014 appears to be another year of adventure, happiness, hard work, and change. This month, I am doing to grant-writing workshops and will be working with two different health committees on securing grants and starting huge projects. One of them is digging deep wells in an area where there is very little water supply and a high number of water-caused illnesses, including typhoid. The other project is to construct and stock a health post in a community too far from a clinic, resulting in high numbers of preventable deaths such as from malaria and maternal death. In February I'll get to explore Tanzania and Zanzibar at a 4 day music festival on the beach with Steve. In March my parents come to visit, in June/July two of my cousins come to visit, and in August another good friend treks out to explore Zambia with me. In April I return to California for my best friends wedding (!!!!). And on September 5, 2014, I ring a bell that signifies the completion of my Peace Corps services in Zambia. Who knows what else, who knows what's next.

Thanks for tuning in, and cheers to 2014 ♡