One Year

A deliriously blue Botswana sky through the limbs of a baobab tree

Today marks my first year of living in Botswana.  It’s hard to believe how much has changed since my first jet-lagged steps at Gaborone Airport.  I’ve learned a new culture, a new language, a new way of life, and most importantly, a whole new side of myself.

I’ve learned how much I have to be thankful for.  I’ve learned that there is more than one way to give thanks, to love, and to mourn.  I’ve learned that happiness can be found in a compliment, a golden sunset, or the laugh of a child.  I’ve learned I can survive more homesick nights than I could have ever imagined.  I’ve learned that eating nothing but grapes for dinner is not only totally acceptable but also delicious.  I’ve learned that spending time alone, rather than bringing loneliness, brings peace within and clarifies my thoughts.  I’ve learned that it is possible to eat for three days off of one cabbage and two onions.  I’ve relearned that reading is my favorite pastime.  I’ve learned that for all my complaints about globalization, the internet is really f-ing awesome.  I’ve learned that without my parents being a phone call away to consult, I can still handle problems in my life with (relative) grace and tact. 

I’ve learned what it feels like to be an outsider – but I have also learned what it feels like to be welcomed wholeheartedly into a family that is not your own.

Today at work, the vice-principal asked how long I would be with them.  I replied, “Until June of next year.  You are stuck with me until then!”

He thoughtfully answered, “If you say you are ‘stuck’ that means you are not happy.  That is not true.  We always like when you are around.  When you are not here, we do not feel good.”

An hour later, walking home with the cleaning lady Tswelelo, she gave me two ears of corn, or midi.  I protested that I didn’t want to take her food, but she insisted, saying, “Take.  I want you to know traditional foods.”

I’ve learned that nothing brings me greater pleasure than when someone from my village calls me tsala ya me, my friend.

Happy one year to all my fellow volunteers.