Skinny Love

The night when you’re listening to the same Bon Iver song you’ve heard 100 times this year and it suddenly clicks. 

2015 was the first year of figuring out how the hell to do this on my own.

You ever notice how there seems to be a fairly sizable gap in age between teen romance movies and romantic comedies. Like a decade. According to Hollywood, you can apparently only fall madly and irrevocably in love around 16-17 or 28-35. I was trying to figure out why that was from a character level or a directors choice or even a ratings standpoint when it suddenly hit me. I’m living it. I am smack dab in the middle of this insanity that does not fit into the engaged at 22 and married by 24 landscape that my upper middle class midwest suburban fairytales taught me I one day could be destined for. I turn 24 in mere days and I am no where close to the “settling down” that I had always envisioned for myself. Instead I’m living alone in Botswana with most of my life decisions for the next two years in the control of the gov’t. I’m not dating or swiping right or going clubbing or falling asleep on the phone or planning romantic weekends or any of the other things that I envisioned myself doing at this age. The things that involve someone else.

I am alone. 

I live alone. I cook alone. I get a solid 7-9 hours of uninterrupted sleep every night. I choose what to do every moment of every day. I put myself first. I journal every night. I dream about all of the places I want to visit. I color pictures for my nieces and nephew. I play my new keyboard. I read books I’ve been putting off since I started college. I don’t wake up to silly texts or smile with delight from surprise visits at work. I don’t make myself sick with worry over my inability to win over the hearts of my lovers mothers. I don’t cook extra for my beau’s roommates. I don’t buy a bottle of merlot, light candles, and put on jazz to talk after a long week. I don’t plan extravagant presents or weekend road trips. I’m not worrying about someone else’s health or how he can possibly have time for all of that or if his friends like me or if he’ll understand that I’m friends with the ones who came before him. 

I am alone in a way I have not truly been since 10 years ago today. Perhaps, ever.

But I’m also, not.

I have family and friends and colleagues and people who check on me on Christmas just to stay hello and make sure I’m okay. I am surrounded by love and friendship everywhere I turn. I am overwhelmed by the people I have been blessed with in my life. I have friends who have stood by my side for over half my life and a family who has supported me fully in every adventure I’ve chased. 

I am not alone. 

I spend evenings with my host siblings. I cook feasts with friends. I burst with joy when my nephew recognizes me on facetime. I am impassioned by my students energy. I get phone calls from neighbors welcoming me to church or over for an afternoon. I write 10 page letters back and forth with my best friend. I have movie marathons with my PC bestie. I plan trips with my parents and call home for a dose of politics from my brother. I exchange long emails with some friends and fb messages with others.

But when I am alone. And I think about how loving the men who graced the last ten years of my life got me here. In Botswana. Alone. 

They taught me first how I had to care for myself if I was going to care for others. Then they taught me that to truly achieve love you must work at it. They taught me people deserve second chances, sometimes third chances. They taught me people do not deserve 4th, 5th, 6th, or 7th chances. They taught me you can not rely on the person you’re with to be your everything. They taught me what’s comfortable is not always what’s best. They taught me that sometimes love changes into something that ends up being better: friendship. They taught me not to settle to feel safe. They taught me that I fall for someones passion like some people fall for a pretty face. They taught me that I do not want an ordinary life in an ordinary place. They taught me that self discovery is never ending and the next great adventure. They taught me that once a path in life is calling, I must follow, even if it means I leave love behind. 

And what they taught me, led me here. And now, I’m learning, is where the real lessons are coming in. The lessons about learning to live with myself as well as by myself. About figuring out how to take the love I once poured into one person at a time and spread it out to the dozens of people who deserve more of me. The lessons about patience and trusting that the process will see me through. Figuring out how to let go of one love without another love waiting in the wing. Learning how to be truly happy with being alone. Writing new rules for myself. Raising my standards and erasing self imposed expectations. Figuring out which parts of myself used to shift and change with each new love and exploring what I truly believe. Navigating how to let go of the belief that I am better with someone else. Or how to let go of the fear that I’m missing out on something. Learning to become a person I love alone. Learning to be alone. 

So maybe this is why romantic comedies don’t write beautiful love stories about women in the prime of their twenties. Because the romance is with figuring themselves out. I just wish they would take some of those “finding yourself” films staring men in the wilderness or on the cusp of career changes and make a few for women. Maybe then we wouldn’t be standing here, staring into the abyss of our post-college twenties, single and wondering where the hell to go next. 

December 13th, 2015

Nothing about today feels like December.

The sky is bright blue with fluffy white clouds and a relentless sun that is slowly cooking the air around me towards 100. My students just finished their final exams and went home until their next school year starts. I have to store my chocolate in the fridge to keep it from melting, and the thought of snuggling on the couch in a hoodie and nana blanket makes me sweat. And I'm not sitting between my parents with the christmas lights on, fire lit, watching christmas movie. 

I have, however, been busy. Thanksgiving was just like any other day at work, but that night I was able to Skype home and talk with most of my extended family. That Saturday a few of us got together to watch The (OSU vs UM) Game and to celebrate Thanksgiving. We had an incredible feast and I was delighted to watch the buckeyes dominate once again! O-H! A year in Ann Arbor prepared me for watching the game with all Michigan fans. 

A Buckeye in Wolverine Territory, My Memoir

The week following I had a training in Ghanzi, 12 hours north-west of me. The training was for all of the volunteers who work in schools. We had trainings on Student Friendly Schools, Gender Based Violence in schools, clubs and activities, and teaching skills. It was great to be able to travel, to get together with my friends, and to have our first round of practical skills based training. And we were even able to see some lions and cheetahs! I was surprised to hear that cheetahs meow...

Evan and I, 8 hours into travel

Waiting for Dinner

The Lewis Ladies Reunited

We had the bad luck of a shattered window on the long drive back, leading to an hour delay stranded on the side of the road. Pretty typical for a travel day here. 

A Bird or a Giant Bug? Who Knows.

I was anxious to get home because my Form 5's (12th grade) were in the middle of a two week "Boot Camp" which consisted of a lot of talks and presentations on lifeskills. This is the first year of them, so we conducted several surveys to collect data on how they went and how effective they are so we can better prepare for them next year. There is plenty of room for improvement, but by the end of the two weeks the youth wanted to stay another week, and I was glad to have time to connect with so many of them. The creativity, energy, and power of youth are what I want to harness while I'm here, and every time I work with them one on one or in small groups I am energized by their passions and potential. The best night was a talent show that encouraged team work and participation above all else. They were incredible to watch and I had a smile on my face all night from the judges table. 

The Human Knot

Selfies with my MC's

I was sad to see them go, but in a few short weeks students will be back at school and I'll hopefully be able to hit the ground running with a few projects. The next week or so I'll be working out the details for projects as well as trying to visit more places in my community so I can work on my two year plan.

Some days are slow in that I don't have much planned, but even on the slowest days, my mind is working in overdrive trying to process and consolidate all of the new information its taking in each day. If I'm not concocting a gender and power analysis on societal expectations, or figuring out how upbringing and schooling impacts how I work with students here vs students back home, or reading about how the Paris Agreement will benefit this country which is devastated by the impact global warming far more than it's contribution to it, I'm thinking about how much growth and change I've experienced in the past 6 years, I'm contemplating what major life changes led me to being the person I am today, I'm scrolling through old pictures of family and friends and trying to cement happy memories into my brain, or I'm wrestling with the role love has in my life. Peace Corps is just as much about working on yourself at your very core as it is about working to improve a community in any way you can. Maybe even more so.

When You're Fighting for Peace in a World In Love With Violence

Unimaginable tragedy occurs every single day on this vast planet. Lives are lost, families are torn apart, nations mourn. The headlines buzz, placing emphasis on the tragedy of white lives lost, and the inevitability of people of color dead from violence. Our history classes have taught us that this is how we value lives, and our prejudices reinforce it. In-between the tragedies of human life lost to terror and war and our inability to act in the deadly face of climate change, there are less notorious acts of violence. This violence is everywhere. It permeates the youngest minds as they act out scenes they have seen on television about suicide missions and gun fights. It seeps from societies carved out of centuries of fighting, where the name of the land changes, but the people within it harbor generations of resentment, revenge, and rage against the white man who conquered their land and then tossed it aside as if it was his birth right, against the army across the water who raped and murdered their women and children in the name of honor, against the neighbor down the street who's religious sect is in conflict with ones own. The violence is written into social norms as women are beaten by their husbands and authorities turn a blind eye, as payment is demanded in the form of bricks thrown after a slur was shouted, as children fight with knives and bystanders proclaim "boys will be boys." Violence is cemented into laws as murders by police are seen as necessary, as children are beaten at school for being late to class, as guns are defended more fiercely than the lives of kindergarteners. 

Violence is cyclical. It continues on, back and forth, round and round, as vengeance is sought for each act. It moves down through the generations. Children are taught its value, and they see they have nothing as valuable to use against it but violence itself. It intertwines with power above all else, tightening the bond between the two and the perpetrator so it seems that only greater violence can sever the ties. Violence is taught. It is taught in fairytales, in cartoons, in families, and in schools. It is taught by fathers and their belts, mothers and their hands, teachers and their sticks, peers and their knives, people and their guns, and governments and their armies. It is taught by hate spat from lips void of compassion. For most children, it is inescapable. And then, the cycle continues.

I sit in my head. Paralyzed by the compilation of violence I have encountered. Paralyzed because this violence is new. We become accustomed to the violence of our own country. As Americans, we are upset by the daily gun deaths, but we now expect the tragedy in the news of another school shooting. We are outraged by the racist violence perpetrated by many police officers, but as we watch a confrontation unfold we know what to look for, pulling out our cell phones to document any travesty. We protest the hate speech and assault that becomes common as populations stand up to the discrimination they face daily, but we anticipate it. This, it seems, is the way things are, and one day we hope our actions will creating lasting change, but for now our tattered psyche's are balancing between hope and anticipation. 

Here, I sit in my head. Reconciling the outrage I feel at the violence I encounter in my new home for the knowledge that I come from a country filled with it's own devastating and permeating violence. Violence that reaches far beyond the shores that flank it. Wanting to shout at those responsible for the death of 7 students and the injury of 120 more being driven in the back of a truck that should only be used for cattle twenty years after a law banned the practice following another tragedy. But turning with grief to my own countries inability to prevent nearly weekly school shootings from occurring after twenty years of debate following Columbine. 

The expansion of my world view that has come from living here is not just about seeing how the less privileged live. It is about recognizing that every country has a vast and rich history, filled with conflicts, enemies, and allies. Encompassed by internal struggles amidst global events. It is seeing that the individuals living within the territory lines drawn by politics are products of their environment, socialized to their own worldview, but struggling with the same emotions and philosophical questions. 

But who is to stand up for the persecuted? The oppressed? The victimized? The powerless? 

How can we stand in protest without using violence to proclaim our own power? How close to home must the problem be before we make our own voice heard? Where does the cycle of violence end and actions of peace and diplomacy begin? And in those moments the argument that violence must occur, wins, how is it minimized to prevent tragedy? When you fight fire with fire, everyone is scared from the burns. Who will be the first to step across the line and offer help to heal their enemy. 

Amidst the constant, overwhelming, suffocating acts of violence permeating our lives, where do we begin?

November 8th, 2015

I’m starting to set into a routine here, and it’s nice. I still need to do a lot of work in terms of my village, but I feel like I’m slowly finding my place at my school. I have great ideas for next years projects brewing and I’ve been really taking the time to talk to as many different people at school as possible to get a holistic view. Soon I’m going to start doing more formal interviews with groups of students so I can gather what I can from what they want. It’s very important to me that I understand my school well before I solidify any plans or act or anything major. And there are plenty of small things to work on in the office this time of year as everything is winding down and students are writing their final exams. 

The most exciting day of the past two weeks was surprisingly Halloween. Surprisingly because it isn’t a holiday that is celebrated here, so I figured it would be a pretty calm day. However, earlier in the week I discovered that the music teacher at my school used to ballroom dance. And not just dance, but compete, and win. I was excited to hear someone could lead, but I couldn’t believe how good it felt to practice again. I used to hate practicing, but spending 6 hours a week in the studio with my ballroom partner this past year was the best decision I could’ve made for myself. Putting on a cha-cha and suddenly realizing I could follow (nearly) perfectly someone who I had never danced before was thrilling. He had a routine already choreographed and spent a couple of days teaching it to me. When I stop dancing for a period of time I lose a part of myself, I was grateful to find it again. 

Saturday there was a farewell event for the graduating music students, and their teacher asked me to dance a showcase with them since they had never seen him dance before. I spent the day helping out with their event. Everyone was on the soccer field in the morning, playing soccer and foot races and having a great time. After lunch we had a whole program which included performances from students, speeches, and of course our dance. It was so much fun. It was almost like being home with my ballroom family, and it made me miss them terribly. I love that no matter where I live, I always find performers to share the passion of the arts with. 

At school I filled in for a few classes this week, enjoying meeting students and hoping that the mere 35 minutes I get with them in a class period will be helpful to them in someway. It’s encouraging that so many students seem to know me well enough to come talk to me between classes and on breaks. It gives me a lot to think about concerning my role at the school and how I want the students to view me: teacher, mentor, friend? At the moment I’m leaning the most towards mentor, resource, and collaborator. I already love working with them and getting to know them, and I know that feeling will only increase as I become more involved starting in January. 

November is already seeming to slip by. My family has a large number of birthdays this month, and my brother’s always kicks off the start of the holiday season for me, ending around my birthday. I’m doing my best to send my love when I can, and to continue to reflect on my time here and everything that I do. Although there are many guidelines for what I should be doing, and there are many things that would constitute a successful service, I learned from my amazing Summer Youth Dialogues crew this past summer that, particularly when I work with youth, I must do everything with intention, and I need to surrender to the process rather than think about the product. When the days seem long and the weeks pass quickly, this is what I focus on. My intentions. I purpose. How I can help with the process. How not to focus too much on the product. Particularly when I have so much time left. PC is a mental game, more than anything, and I hope that I learn much from it. 

Best,

Bethany

When You Try to Remember What Beautiful Feels Like

When I feel self conscious about the shape and size of my body, I eat. Usually, chocolate. But nothing is exempt. Milkshakes, french fries, mozzarella sticks, pizza; the cheesier, saucier, carb-ier the better. This might seem a bit strange. Someone tells me I should stand up straight because “a girl your age shouldn’t have that stomach” and instead of depriving myself of dinner, I eat a chocolate bar after a full plate of pasta. Which is what happened today. 

This might seem a bit strange, until you understand that I have a habit of angstily defying that which upsets me, and a strong background in feminist thinking. I was raised to believe the sky was far from the limit and that I could do anything I wanted. But the types of phrases that rang in my head today were “deni’s home” (about my apparently inherited bad luck of dropping and breaking things in the kitchen), and “stand up straight” which has been repeated to me so many times it makes me roll my eyes and slouch more. 

I danced all my life. When I choose to, I can have impeccable posture. But when I’m lounging around at home, I simply don’t care. And when I start to slouch, my seemingly slim physique shows its hidden treasure of a sizable stomach that looks remarkably like a pregnant woman who is about 20+/- weeks along. I was reminded of this  yesterday, when someone I met this week asked me “are you two or one?” indicating towards my stomach. This is not even close to the first time I’ve been asked this question. 

I have a bit more weight than I’d like on my body, true. But who can blame a girl for indulging for a few months before leaving the country. My main concern is that I know, scientifically, stomach fat is the worst kind for you, since it is so close to your organs. And that I can’t quite do all of the poses in yoga the same way when my gut gets in the way. But I also know that a lifetime of magazine ads, tv shows, and every other media under the sun has taught me what beauty should look like. I got over my arm hair, the way my right eye closes slightly more than my left when I smile, and my square feet with webbed toes at a pretty young age. But ever since puberty I’ve looked down at my body and wished that my chest would be bigger than my stomach. At first, this just meant my boobs had to exist. But now it means my stomach has to shrink. And impulsively I just reached for another bite of chocolate.

I eat because I love food. I love it. Who doesn’t? But I eat like crap when I feel self conscious because I’m afraid if I don’t, I’ll go the other way. Eating disorders aren’t just things I’ve read about in magazines, they’re potentially deadly mental and physical battles I’ve watched some of the most important people in my life battle with for years. I spent most of high school eating an extra portion of my best friends favorites so she wouldn’t feel bad eating a little more and fighting her illness. Eating disorders have the potential to take over your life. I’m furious that the society we live in has created an environment in which these diseases control women (and men) who are brilliant and talented. So when someones made a comment about my weight, I say FUCK YOU YOU EGOTISTICAL VAIN PATRIARCHAL SOCIETY, and eat a bar of chocolate. Or a bacon cheese burger. Ugh a burger sounds so good right now.

It took me until college to figure this all out. And by then, I wasn’t really sure I wanted to change my reaction. It’s a strongly satisfying way of fighting what I can’t control. But what I’ve found to be much more effective, is a week or so after my chocolate binge, I’ll have forgotten about the sting of the comment and instead focus in on how my body feels. And if it doesn’t feel strong and at it’s peak, I’ll readjust some of my eating and exercising habits to work towards feeling strong and powerful. My body gets me through each day and it deserves to be honored. I don’t want to crash diet or sweat till I shred that last few pounds. I want to find a balance in my life that makes me feel powerful and proud of my self, inside and out. 

But even with these ambitious desires and noble ideas of self image, I still look at the scale, and start doing simple math towards what I want the number to be the next time I’m at the Dr’s. I am in no way immune to the insane pressures women are putting on themselves to look a certain way. But I’m trying. 

Trying has become a lot more difficult. Enter, my new life. And the number of times my weight has been the topic of conversation with people who I have known mere days. Not just my weight. The ways my weight is too much. The way I’ve gained weight (I haven’t) or the way my outfit today makes me look much fatter than yesterday. Or the way I must be pregnant. Or the way I’m too young to have a belly like that. There are only so many days you can shrug it off. I think I’m pretty good at laughing off comments like this, but there are only so many comments one can make before I find myself wishing I was curled up in bed with a carton of ice cream and the latest episode of Grey’s. I’ve been told that people make these comments because of everything from— it means you’re happy, you’re wealthy, they’re jealous, to— it’s just an observation. Who knows anyones true intentions, but I decided to believe that everyones intentions are good, and an observation such as this is simply not meant as offensive. 

Talking about weight isn’t just something that happens here. It is constant in America as well. But here, at least, it’s out in the open. I haven’t experienced any hidden comments, side comments, or off the cuff comments that make you feel like maybe you were just kind of insulted but you aren’t really sure and now you just feel like apparently you can never wear this dress in public again. That’s why I wanted to write about this. Because every woman I know experiences this. And we sure waste a hell of a lot of time worrying about our weight that we could be spending doing…anything else. Like changing the world. 

Hopefully while I start my best attempt at that, I’ll forget about my occasional double chin and the scars on my neck, and instead focus on the way my breath can fill my entire body with a deep calm, or how my face and neck stretch to the sky as the start of every dance solo I compose in my empty bedroom, or the way my arms can capture my beautiful niece and nephew between them, so that I can tell them that their love and brilliance shine brighter than the stars, in the hopes that I can counteract even a moment of self-doubt they may have about their own images. And then I’ll take them to ice cream.

October 25th, 2015

My First Week at my New Home!

It's been a whirlwind. To get through 11 weeks of training and then to suddenly live on my own in my community. I took it slow this week, to say the least. My brain needed a lot of downtime to recover. I read the rest of the Harry Potter books and did a lot of observation at school. Some days it feels like a success simply to have one good conversation with another member of staff. Building relationships is so crucial to success. I go to the dining hall at lunch each day and help with the teachers on duties. This helps me because I can use the time to meet new teachers and talk to them and it's also great because I get to eat lunch for free! If I cut out 5 meals a week by eating at school, I can start to afford things that are normally way out of PCV budget, like good cheese or olives. 

Food is very interesting for me here. I'm gluten free, which surprisingly isn't difficult. But does increase my expenses a bit. To go shopping for groceries I have to ride the bus nearly an hour to the capital, which means I have to take my big backpack to carry it all home in, and I have to hope that my food will make it without spoiling. I'm still amazed I've managed to get my eggs here without them all cracking! 

There is also much less variety in food choices here, and most produce is simply whatever is in season. I'm very lucky that my shopping village is the capital because it means I have a much greater variety than most volunteers. And I can get special treats. Like this week when I went shopping I walked into the mall and right away bought a frozen yogurt. It was wonderful. There are also several stores in in the capital with gluten free options so I should always be able to find what I need. I'm enjoying cooking for myself again and trying new experiments.  For instance, I'm currently waiting for my attempt at tomato sauce to finish simmering. I failed pretty miserably at making a sauce, but from what I can tell it's still going to taste good! 

I've also discovered that I have wifi at my house. This is a huge deal. It means I'm not going to buy internet anymore since in theory I will have it both at school and at home! I seriously am the most spoiled volunteer. Besides the people with a shower. They are living the dream. 

I've been enjoying the company of my landlords this week and starting to meet my neighbors. I also created an extensive to do list so that I can start to get organized for the next three months. All in all, it was a successful first week in my new place. I even received another package and letters from home! Thank you all for the continued support! It helps immensely. 

Best,

Bethany

October 18th, 2015

Moving in!

The week seemed to drag by. Each day I got a bit more packed and spent time with the other trainees and my host family. We wrapped up our last few sessions and started collecting our endless supply of things PC had promised us before departing. On 

Monday we had the great pleasure of going to Gabs! We were allowed to shop for our houses and enjoy the day eating as much as we could. We found a cute cafe that clearly served expats and even a Mexican restaurant! It was so nice to do a bit of retail therapy and treat ourselves for a long 11 weeks of training. 

Wednesday was magical. We all arrived in our traditional outfits, ready to be sworn in! During swear in there was both national anthems, speeches from important people, the oath was given to us by the US Ambassador of Botswana, and a PC pledge was administered by our Country Director. The last line of the pledge is "I am a Peace Corps Volunteer." And it was with great pride and a chill running down my spine that I said these words. I couldn't believe we had finally done it. Everyone tells you to push through training as best you can so you can get to the reward which is service. And here we were, no longer trainees, but volunteers. 

There was an impromptu photo shoot both before and after the ceremony and  I was glad to snag as many pictures as I could of friends before we departed to our sites. I was even lucky enough to get one with my host mom. 

Soon Joiwyn and I were off for a day of last minute errands, ending with a trip to the lodge for a poolside celebration with all of the volunteers. As I walked home I bought my final treat for myself : an almond magnum ice cream bar, my favorite treat from Oz. What a great way to end an eventful three months. 

Thursday was MOVING DAY! I had no idea how I was getting to site or if it was going to work at all, but somehow crammed six of us into a large van with all of our things. It looked something like this: 

I made it to my village mid afternoon and immediately started cleaning and unpacking, which I continued to do for most of the weekend (interrupted by reading breaks of course). I live on a beautiful family compound, with a gorgeous dog, and two boys just shy of graduating high school. My house is well shaded by fruit trees and well protected by a high wall. It's also thoroughly furnished, and I'm just about finished decorated. 

There is a kitchen, sitting room, two bedrooms, and a bathroom. I'm very lucky to be living in such a luxurious place, both by peace corps standards, and as my first place on my own! 

It has been a rough road to get where I am now. And I'm still a bit shocked that I am a volunteer. I think in a few days it'll really sink in that I am now living here alone with endless amounts of freedom to do the work I'm passionate about. It's a bit overwhelming to see three months stretched before me like a blank canvas, not truly able to start projects, but with so much to do. Any advice from RPCVs about how they managed their community assessment period is greatly appreciated. For now, I have the beautiful Hills to look at, and a school of smiling students to see each morning. 

Best,

Bethany

October 11th, 2015

Stepping off the bus in Gaborone (the Capitol) Monday morning put me instantly at ease. The tension my body had been holding released and my stress decreased. I sighed with happiness as I took in the booths lining the streets and the people bustling about. There's something about a city that soothes me. I was lucky enough to go in for the day to set up my bank account and get lunch. Lunch consisted of a magnificent chocolate milkshake and all the sushi I could handle. It was a little slice of heaven. 

The week was more or less just hot. It's averaging high 90's every day and the sun is relentless. As we wind down training I'm struggling to fall asleep each night and desperately missing the cold. Wish me luck. It's only spring, after all! 

At training we had a couple last presentations, early off days, and sessions with our country director. Including a policy session in which we had a pop quiz on very detailed policies and I came in first place with 90%... Reading the entire manual the weekend before clearly paid off in the form of a bag of Hershey's candy! We also had our final language exams, which went more or less okay. As long as I do as well as I did last time I'll be all set to swear in. Friday between language exams and round table interviews with our CD, I cut ten different peoples hair. This all started a few weeks ago when I volunteered to cut one persons hair since I had scissors, and slowly more and more people have been asking me for a trim. Since we swear in next week and don't see each other until January, everyone wants one last cut before they let it grow for awhile. It's been a lot of fun, and I haven't messed up yet! Except when I tried to use the buzzers. So we're sticking to scissors for now. One of my other friends is on clippers duty so it works out perfectly. 

I took my last weekend in Moleps to relax at my host family's house. I certainly needed it. I've been around so many people lately that I've needed to spend time alone relaxing and being productive. I've started organizing and packing some of my things since I'll be moving next Thursday. I also was lucky enough to receive three letters this week!! So I've been trying to get together another stack of letters to mail out. I'm enjoying being around my host family for some quality time before I move. They've done so much for me and I'm so grateful for them. Not to mention, all my time at home meant I could read Harry Potter! No matter what is going on in my life, Harry Potter is always the perfect solution to help me destress and revitalize my energy for whatever task is set in front of me. As long as I'm not saying "just one more chapter!" 

I'm ready to move into my new place. This will be my first time living completely on my own and my first time living in one place for this long since I moved out of my parents house. I'm excited to build my new home to make it mine and to really begin to dig in to my work here. It helps that I have so much support both here and back home. The journey is only just beginning. 

October 4th, 2015

Two months in country!

This week we are back in training. Most of the country is on holiday for Botswana Independence Day so we had a fairly relaxed week which included a cultural festival in the  30th at the kgotla to celebrate 49 years of independence.

I'm friend Evan and I cut my friend Joiwyn hair  after! My second hair cut so far. I need about more practice but it's been fun so far.

Thursday there was a group of current volunteers who came to present to us on committees and initiatives we can get involved in once we've sworn in. It gave me great ideas for my service and how I can be active in the volunteer community. 

It was a good thing we had a relaxed week because I was sick for most of it. Being sick when you're in another continent from most of your support system is not exactly fun, but being sick in pc is pretty common and many of us were this week. I stayed home Friday because of it and received many texts and inquiries of concern by Saturday, which helped a lot. The upside of being up all night sick was being able to talk to my friends from home when they were actually free to have a conversation. I'm  still struggling a little but I think I'll be totally back to normal in another day or two.

Saturday was our host family party! We held an event to thank them for taking us into their homes as members of the family and teaching us all about living as a motswana. It was also a culture exchange as we made chili, played American games like limbo and sack races, and certainly taught a ton of American  line dances (my favorite part of course). It was a successful event! My host sister and brother came to celebrate. 

Sunday is of course for more Mumba, fun with friends, and reading. I'm enjoying it while I can because soon life is going to look very different once I swear in and move to my new home. It's going to be a wild ride! 

September 27th, 2015

My final week at site visits was a busy one! Monday and Tuesday I toured the community and talked to most of the key stakeholders. I met with the primary and junior secondary school principals, I spent an hour at the clinic meeting everyone on staff, I visited the general store, post office, etc. There were so many people to talk to! I am gaining so many ideas of things that I can help with and be apart of in my village, to the point that it’s sometimes overwhelming. I am only one volunteer, after all. It’s important for me to find what the national priorities are (which are HIV related) what my community needs are, and what my personal interests and experiences are, and to combine them to decide the best ways to direct my service. Wednesday and Thursday I spent all day at school, getting to know more students, and continuing my tutoring in Setswana by a brilliant form 5. Friday I finished my massive to do booklet with a visit to a traditional healer. He gave me a lot of insight into the history of the village and some of his services. Friday afternoon I attended a colloquium at the school that was in honor of a freedom fighter. Many important people were at the event, including the Minister of Education and parliament members from both Botswana and South Africa. It was extremely educational as well as entertaining as there was traditional dancing and singing to accompany the festivities. Personally, it was also a hectic and thrilling week as I found out my best friend (for almost 20 years now) said yes to her engagement! I am unbelievably happy for both of them and can not imagine a better time for them to start the rest of their lives together. This also meant calls back and forth between my parents and I as well as desperately seeking out internet to chat with my friend while I went back and forth about whether or not I could or should come home for the wedding. I’ve known that this was a large possibility for quite some time, and I had thought I wouldn’t come home for it, but the longer I’ve been here, and the more I’ve thought about it, the more I’ve realized how much I would regret missing such an important day for such an important person in my life. Although we’re still working out the details, I’m hoping in about a years time I’ll be able to fly home for her wedding. Speaking of home: being here, I’m constantly reminded of how incredible my parents are and how lucky I am to have their full support. During our last day at training before site visits, I received a package from them that was filled with Kind Bars, spices, a journal, a few things that arrived in the mail after I left, and a beautiful hand written note from both of them. It felt like Christmas, honestly. We’ve talked once every other week on the phone for an hour or so at a time, and they are always willing to listen to whatever boring comments I have about life here, as well as long detailed personal theories of why things are the way they are. They try to call when my niece or nephew are at their house so I can hear their voices, and they give me updates on everyone at home. With my limited internet and inability to talk to everyone, they really help me feel connected and involved with everyones lives. I can’t wait for them to come visit so I can share my life here with them. It was nice to get back to my host family in my training village and to feel at home. I’ve said it before but I can’t say enough how much a part of the family my host family makes me feel. I had another wedding to attend on Saturday and then a day of washing and relaxing Sunday to prepare for the final stretch of training. Two and a half weeks to go until we swear in on October 14th. I can’t believe it’s practically here already!

September 20th, 2015

The first day at my new school was brilliant. I met my office, was introduced to all of the Heads of Department, and sat through a few of the classes. Each time I went into a class during the week I introduced myself in Setswana, much to the shock and amusement of the students (and teachers!). Even though my Setswana knowledge is very basic, I always try to start my conversations in Setswana to show respect to the culture and to try to build trust with the community. Most people in my village know English fairly well, but it is still always best to speak Setswana as much as I can. During my two week site visit I have a booklet of things to do and information to collect in order to help with my community integration. Since I stayed 4 nights at the other volunteers house, I was a bit behind in my work, but thankfully I had a couple of people from the school as well as couple people from the village to help introduce me to the community. I went early on in the week to the Kgotla. This is the center of the community. It’s where the community meetings take place, including the trials over disputes and the festivals. The Kgosi, or the Chief of the village works out of the Kgotla. In my village it’s connected with the police station, so I was able to meet with the police and the Kgosi’s right hand man at the same time. It was crucial for this to be my first introduction as the Kgosi should always know what’s happening in the community and the police should be aware in order to look out for my safety. In a society that is fairly hierarchical and respectful of elders, the more people in power in the community that know about me the better. On Thursday there was a cultural festival in a neighboring village. Since it’s very close to Botswana’s Independence Day, there are many festivals happening all over the country to celebrate the culture of the people. I was taken to the festival by a well respected village elder, and so I was treated as a VIP for the program. Events such as this including several hours of sitting while VIP’s are brought in and introduced, poets recite, dancers and singers perform, and many speeches are made. Unfortunately, it’s all in Setswana. They were extremely kind to translate my welcome into English, which I very much appreciated. Although it was in Setswana, I was able to learn a lot by piecing together what I did know, and observing the event. At one point we all walked around to admire the cultural objects that were present, such as the traditional plow, traditional kika and mothse (the instruments used to pound sourgum or maize meal), and traditional bowls. It was wonderful to see all of the objects in one place and in use. I was able to gain a rich understanding from the showcase. We ended the day with a traditional meal, which was wonderful, as always. Friday I was back at school for another long day: the Prize Giving ceremony. This is an all school ceremony that celebrates the achievements of the school for the year. There were once again performances, including singing by the school choir which was ranked first in the nation this year. They are amazing. When I got to the school in the morning, students were DJing and everyone was scattered preparing. I was walking around taking it all in feeling energized by the students enthusiasm. I helped prepare the food for the guests before attending the event, which was four hours of entertainment and awards. I loved seeing everyone having a great time out of classes celebrating. Saturday was yet another celebration! We had our own cultural festival in our village, and this time I helped to usher. This is a very important role in events here, and it involves treating the VIP’s well, ushering people to seats, and serving all of the food. Being an usher is hard work. Thankfully since I still don’t really know what I’m doing, I got to take breaks from time to time and enjoy the entertainment, which included traditional dance and the school choir. The students started getting to know me at the event. A few sat next to me and asked me many questions about America and my life in Botswana. It’s always fun to interact with them because they are so full of wonder and ideas. Sunday I attended a Lutheran service with my host family. There was a lot of singing, and I realized that I pick up a lot of Setswana when I sing it. I’m going to have a few of the most common songs written down and translated for me so I can learn them. Here, everyone knows so many songs and hymns that you only need one person to lead the call and response for everyone in the room to join in 4 part harmony. It’s only my years of choir and sight reading, and my choice of sticking to the melody, that keep me singing when I have no clue what the words are. Not that I do much better when the song is in English!

September 13th, 2015

What a exciting week! We started the week with Labor Day celebrations of our own by coming together for a cook out, and then a few of us got together on Monday afternoon to cook the closest we could to taco salad. It was marvelous. To hang out with friends without the stress of training and to eat familiar food full of vegetables and spice. Truly the life. Nerves built as the week moved on and Wednesday Site Announcements came closer and closer. On Wednesday morning we were led into the auditorium and told to take a seat and then to reach under our left armrest for a slip of paper. They had numbers on them (1-76) which told us what order we were going to find out our placements. I was number five! When my number was called, I walked up to the front of the room and found the envelope with my name on it. I reached in to grab a small slip of paper which included a proverb “Don’t pursue happiness, make it, in…” and then the name of my village. Everyone cheered while I walked to the next table and they handed me the folder with my site and school on it. I was going to a senior secondary school!!! I nearly lost it with excitement. I had asked over and over to be placed with older students, either a junior secondary (grades 8-10, or form 1-3) or a senior secondary (grades 11-12, or form 4-5), but I knew there were only three senior secondary schools that volunteers could be placed with, and I was afraid I wouldn’t get my request. I couldn’t be happier that I’ll be able to work with older students in a boarding school setting. I realized this summer, working with youth in metro detroit, that I truly thrive with this age group. Although they can be challenging, the challenge fills me with motivation and energy. Their energy is vibrant, and it propels me to work my hardest to be there for them. Students at my school are sent from all over the country and many are OVC’s (Orphans and Vulnerable Children). There is a very high rate of teen pregnancy, as well as problems with drugs, alcohol, and suicide. Some issues are truly universal. With my background and interests I already see so many opportunities for me at the school, and I can’t wait to get started. Thursday and Friday were both full day Supervisor Workshops. Friday was 9/11. This was my first time out of the country on the date, and it was surreal to see that no one seemed to know of it’s importance in our hearts, and it was just another day in Botswana. We had a short tribute at the start of our day with a moment of silence followed by a volunteer playing a beautiful saxophone solo of the national anthem. I was glad to still be at training and to be surrounded by other Americans for the day. Saturday I departed for my village! Unfortunately there was a bit of a trip up, so I didn’t have a host family to stay with. Luckily, I am one of the few who is fortunate enough to have a fellow volunteer staying in my village. She’s already been there a year, so she was gracious enough to let me stay with her for a few days while they sorted things out. We were supposed to shadow our last weekend, so I ended up doing it my first weekend instead! Some of her friends were in and I helped them with a clean up project at her work. I also had the luxury of free unlimited wifi while I stayed there. It was so nice to relax, recharge, and just hang out with peers for a few days. A perfect end to a busy week.

September 6th, 2015

The weeks are starting to blend together as we trudge through training day in and day out. Each day is simplistic and joyful in it’s own way. We are so close to finding out our site placements and everyone is eagerly waiting for Wednesday when we finally know where we will be living for two years! This weekend was very eventful! Ditubaruba is a major cultural festival that happens in our training village once a year. There is tons of food, craft booths, and a lot of traditional dancing and celebrations. We went as a group and I was ecstatic to have my brand new setswana dress to wear for the occasion! Pictures hopefully coming soon. We were unbearably early and it happened to RAIN this weekend, so it was actually very cold. To try to get through the boredom of waiting for the event and the cold as we shivered in our dresses, we started a bit of a dance party. Our teachers were leading us in dancing and soon 30 or so Americans and Batswana were dancing in a big circle to traditional music. It was definitely the highlight of the day! After was a long ceremony. Most of the festival was like watching a show as the Kgosi (chief) came in, the women of the Bakwena tribe (Crocodiles) proceeded in with offerings of harvest and traditional beer, there was a choir that sang, and fabulous dances were presented. There was the occasional long speech in setswana, which I’ve gotten used to sitting through, and most of the morning was enjoying the culture and forgetting about the cold. We were all served traditional food for lunch, which I’ve grown accustomed too. I love most types of food, and the food here is basically comfort food, so it’s always welcomed. After Ditubaruba I came home to the wedding happening at my neighbors. All week my host-family had been helping prepare for the wedding. The night before I went over and helped peel and cut dozens of acorn squash. I was excited to go to another wedding and experience another big event (after a nap). There was a lot of dancing at this wedding as well and I was happy to see my host-family enjoying themselves so much! Since I was at this wedding as the only American I definitely felt the celeb status, and it started to feel very strange. I introduced myself more than once by essentially saying “My name isn’t white person. My name is Mpho.” Which I think will start to become habit. Thankfully as I get to know people and they talk among themselves, people see that I’m just a person like anyone else. Sunday meant more Zumba, another large load of laundry (by hand of course) and a bbq with a group of trainees. It was a long and packed weekend, which means there wasn’t much time for resting before the next week. It’s strange to think that tomorrow is Labor Day, and it’s a holiday weekend back in America. I guess our BBQ today was a bit like a Labor Day cook out! And we have a short day on Monday filled with Setswana Games and language. I am realizing that being offline and away from contact with people is easier the more days I’ve gone without talking to anyone. But a week or so away from it and it starts to become strange to think that life is going on without me. Time and distance are two things I’ll keep learning about while I’m here I think. If you have something you want to send, wait to send it until I have my new address at my site. If you send it now I probably won’t get it until January. S/O to Jesse and Whitney:: Last week I got mail from both of you! Getting mail at PST is a big deal, everyone gets a bit jealous. It was an awesome treat! Thank you! I’ll post to facebook once I know where my placement is so that everyone can google away. Best, Bethany

August 30th 2015

Ke rata go bina! (I love to dance!) Dance has been part of my life for as far back as my memory will allow. I have now taken lessons in around 25 different styles, and I keep coming back for more. Let’s be frank: I was never particularly amazing at any one style, but the rewarding feeling I get from a few hours of giving it my all and connecting with my inner dance goddess has allowed my life as a dancer to progress, despite giving up on my (family’s) dreams of me becoming a professional. I never got my splits, or nailed my double pirouette, and I will probably spend the rest of my life trying to figure out correct frame, but you run into me on a dance floor with my friends and you’ll see that I am meant to be a dancer. Without a dance partner or a studio, and without a dance club in sight (or the ability to go out after dark), I’ve been struggling to find ways to complete my nearly daily urge to break it down. Thankfully, two brilliant solutions presented themselves to me this week: zumba and a wedding. I can not get enough of zumba. 8 or so of us have been using our healthy outlets time during training to get in the groove and sweat out all the stress and anxiety that comes from living in another country and having absolutely no control over your life. This Sunday we decided to add a session to our morning and invite host country nationals. What we didn’t expect was all of the neighborhood children to join as well! We had a crowd of nearly 20 shaking it to latin/club mixes. Our lovely instructor has taught us my new favorite quote: There are no mistakes, only unanticipated solo’s. This is probably the most accurate quote to describe pretty much anything artistic I pursue. And I love it. Upon arriving home from zumba I found my PC friend and neighbor at my house with her host-mom to invite me to a wedding. Not wanting to pass up such a great opportunity, I quickly changed and hopped in the car. What an event! I was not quite anticipating the level of celebrity I would achieve at this wedding, but the experience was too good to pass up. Weddings in Botswana, are very different, and very similar, to weddings in America. For starters, anyone can just show up. There is no guest list. There is no seating chart. There is no caterer, there is no bartender, there is no wedding planner. There is just the family to prepare all of the food and to spread the word. There are elders to dictate the event, and there are neighbors, friends, and cousins, to arrive and celebrate. Alcohol is typically frowned upon here as substance abuse is a very real problem, which means there isn’t much cultural “drinking in moderation,” so one of the celebratory parts of weddings in the states wasn’t part of the party. But everyone still ends up having a fabulous time. When we arrived around noon, people were everywhere, and dancing was happening in the middle of the compound. We were quickly ushered into the dance line (think a train of people in two lines doing simple steps to the music while snaking around the floor) and I could not stop smiling while all of the youth at the wedding tried to teach us what to do. Soon two of the older women were beckoning us to the center of the floor for more one on one dance instruction, and I tried my best to keep up. We then watched as the groomsmen exited the house onto the dance floor and proceeded to dance their way to their van. We followed them in our car to the brides house, where we once again go in the dance line and proceeded around the courtyard until the bride and bridal party joined us, singing and dancing. Our next stop was the quarry where the bridal party was taking pictures, and we found out quickly we were expected to join in. This was a little strange, being in a cotton skirt and shirt, still a little unkempt from zumba earlier, sweating from the sun, and being told to jump in next to the gorgeous wedding party in their white and black pristine outfits. But we managed to sneak out after a couple of pictures and had a good laugh. Back at the grooms house, another processional and dance line continued, as the wedding party has choreographed dances to entertain the people at the wedding. Everyone went to sit and greetings, introductions, and speeches, were made before food was brought out. This was probably the best wedding food I’ve ever had. It was all traditional Setswana food, but it was homemade by the families, and even though they were serving to an unknown number on a hot day, each and every plate was heaped high with each type of food at the exact right temperature. There was beet salad, coleslaw, rice, potato salad, chicken, beef, stew, sempe, and squash. We ate around 3pm, and I was ready for food by then. Following the food was more dances by the wedding party, after they changed into their second outfit for the night. By now it was starting to get dark, so we went home after being told the event would go well into the night. Not to mention I undoubtably pulled a muscle in my back during zumba, so I was ready for some advil and a nap. It was quite the experience and I’m looking forward to attending more cultural events in the future. Next weekend in particular is ditubaruba! More once I’ve gone :) All in all the day was a great success. Training was just more of the same this week, with the addition of occasional internet access. We are starting to venture further into HIV sessions and assignment area specifics as we are almost finished with our global core sessions. Our most important and impactful session this week was hearing from a man who has spent the last 17 years living with HIV, and is now a speaker and HIV counselor. He was incredibly inspirational and put a meaningful face to the work we are all anxiously waiting to begin. I’m looking forward to continuing to meet and work with Batswana (the people of Botswana) on this tragic epidemic. Keep checking the dates of posts to see when I actual wrote each one. I’m still trying to do one a week even if they aren’t uploaded all right away. I’ll try to get pictures on the blog when I can, but for not it’s too complicated with my internet situation. Thank you again for all the love! Best, Bethany

August 22nd 2015

I am continuously reflecting on how blessed I was to be in the position I’m in. I am living out my dream of doing development work revolving around sex education in a foreign country. Literally. That is what I’m doing. Or at least, what I’m training to do. If you had asked me two years ago to tell you what I imagined myself doing when I “grew up”, those would be the three qualifying criteria. And here we are. It’s amazing how dreams manifest when you set your mind to them. Not only am I doing all of those things, I am living in a homestay with a family that is kind, loving, and selfless. They are helping me each day so that I can learn the cultural customs, how to cook traditional food, and how to perform the chores I’ll need to live in my own house after training. I am always well taken care of and I often go to bed with a full heart, thinking about how similar my homestay family is to my own in the way they show love. The people of Botswana (Batswana) are filled with kindness that I see each day. Often when we are walking to training we will be stopped by mothers and grandmothers for a quick chat to learn our names and which family we are staying with. They are always laughing with joy to hear us stumble through our Setswana phrases, and more than willing to teach us a new phrase or two. When we arrived in Botswana, we were told we had won the Peace Corps jackpot, and I’m starting to see why. I’m already captivated by my nightly sunsets from the front porch, the moment I take each day to slow down and appreciate where I am. Training is still going well. I’ve gotten 5 shots at this point and I still have at least 3 more to go to finish my series of vaccinations. Each day we start out with a virtue which people can volunteer to reflect on (inspired by The Virtue Project). It’s been a great way to get to know my fellow trainees as well as to reflect each day on my service and how each virtue with help me to succeed. Training days can be long, but sessions are typically only 2 hours at a time, which feel short compared to grad school classes. I’m lucky I was just in school because it definitely prepared me for 9+ hour days of training. The one fun part about training is Healthy Outlets which is where we plan activities near the end of the day for people to de-stress. So far I’ve done yoga and zumba, which I had never tried before and—surprise!— I loved it. Besides being in training I spend most of what free time I do have at my house with my host family. I’ve already gotten hooked to a South African soap opera (basically all that’s watched here) called Generations. I’m also slowly learning how to make the most common dishes here. There are two or three different types of porridge that are staples in Botswana, and I’m learning all the different ways to make and eat them. I’ve been eating huge meals. Perhaps I’m a bit too well fed. The trainees also spend a lot of time going to the strip mall or the grocery store or even the post office to run errands. Most importantly, the grocery store here sells cadbury Dairy Milk chocolate, so my obsession from Oz has continued! I’ve been trying to make deals with myself so that I don’t buy it all the time. For instance, my end of training treat to myself is going to be a magnum ice cream bar. Thank goodness for ex-british countries. Speaking of treats, this past week I went to a tailor and bought fabric so that I can have a traditional dress made! I want to buy two or three while I’m in country, so I thought I’d get my first one before swearing-in! As a group we have also gone on a big hike a bit outside the city, and spent a fair bit of time at a hotel with an outdoor bar area and pool which gives us some privacy from the general stares when large numbers of us congregate in public. We had an afternoon of project planning that turned into making s’mores with a family, and we are starting to get to know each other’s host families. Although I’m in bed almost every night by 9, I really don’t mind the quiet and slow pace I take when I get home. When everything is new, it doesn’t feel boring to just sit and take it all in, it feels refreshing. There is still so much I want to do and learn while I’m in training, but right now I know it’s best to take it one day at a time and to not worry about what is ahead, only what I am doing now. Being present in the current moment is what I have been focusing on the most, and that seems to be serving me well. I should have internet once a week or so through mid Oct. (except when I’m on my site visit for two weeks in Sept.). I appreciate letters very much, especially since my internet access is so random and short, and you can send them to Bethany Lewis, PST PBag 000243 C/O Peace Corps Gaborone, Botswana People kept asking about care package items. Right now the running list is: gluten free snacks (like KIND bars!) good lotion (it is pretty dry here) USB’s filled with media (TV/Movies/Books/New Beyonce) Pictures! packets to make lemonade etc out of water bottles The news! Clippings of important articles (ie. Buckeye victories) or magazines you’re finished with. Even if the news is old, it’s still new to me! There isn’t any global or US publication in print here so any news is appreciated. Maps I can hang on the wall: USA, Botswana, Africa, World If you are going to send anything make sure to either send it before the second week of September or to wait until I have my new address in October. Even an occasional fb message or email with an update on your life would be wonderful. Since my access is limited it’s harder to just scroll through news feeds to see what everyone is up to.

August 15th 2015

It’s been just over a week since we’ve moved to our training village and we met our host families. Each day seems filled with activities and we are already beginning to sink into a routine. My host family seems to have been picked perfectly for me—there are children and extra pillows and people who do most things with meticulous intention. I meet new family members every weekend as host siblings travel in from out of town. The Setswana name they gave me is Mpho [Mm-po], which means Gift. I’ve already learned to hand wash my clothes (and how not to) and how to make dinawla and stumpe over the fire, a traditional meal that’s made up of beans and corn. I am lucky to have electricity and running water, but the hot water for bathing I have to fetch from the fire outside. Life is simple in the village, and that makes it easy for me to focus on training and to practice my Setswana with the neighbors I pass on the street. My sleep schedule has adjusted quickly to both the time zone and the culture as I’m up most days at 6 and asleep by 10. We aren’t allowed out after dark so there’s no point being a night owl. Today I slept in until 7:30! Training is reminding me that I am a learner. Even language, which I’ve struggled with greatly in the past, is something I am enjoying stumbling through at 7:30am each day. This past year, my best friend gave me the best advice I’ve ever had about learning a language: to try hard enough to make mistakes, and to laugh rather than be embarrassed when I do mess up. I keep that in mind every day while I’m trying to speak Setswana with my host family, and when I’m learning in class. I’m enjoying the challenge. Even training sessions that are mandated for each PCT (Peace Corps Trainee) are interesting to me. I’m clearly still in the mindset of education, which is helpful for the 9 hour days at training. In-between sessions we have tea breaks and a lunch break where we are able to continue to build relationships with our cohort. It’s becoming a closer circle as we all get to know each other on a deeper level while we go through our differing struggles of being so far from home. It is a bit of a struggle. Although I think the worst of it is surely ahead, I’ve decided to not buy an internet plan at least during PST (August 3rd-October 15th), which means I have not been connected to anyone or anything back home, aside from a phone call to my parents last week. Although I thought I would have many more frustrations, I do miss my daily groupme with my best friends, my daily goodnight texts, my snapchats with my niece, pictures of my nephew, and not having the news. I did not realize how crazy I would feel without the news! Sometimes we watch the news on Botswana TV, but two weeks without global or US news is making me feel the most disconnected. If anyone is looking for things to send in a care package, important current event newspapers or magazines would be amazing. Even if I get them a month or two after the fact, I’ll appreciate knowing. Everything moves slowly here anyways. Not being able to instantly send texts to my loved ones has been an adjustment as well, but I’ve started writing a letter or two every night in order to feel like I am maintaining communication. I have some letters from friends that I was sent with during goodbyes, and I’m so incredibly grateful for them. No matter what my day was like or what thoughts of doubt have crept into my mind, knowing that I have an incredible and unwavering support system back home that took the time to make sure I would have their words of love with me right from the beginning has made all the difference. If you’d like to receive mail from me, please send me an email or fb msg with your address! Or better yet, send me a letter and I can respond. Gluten free eating has been going well so far. There is a lot of porridge and maize meal (which I love) along with vegetables, chicken, and beef. And TEA! I’ve been drinking tea almost every day because it is just like Chai and the locals drink it upwards of 4 times a day. I was lucky enough to be sent to a country with an abundant amount of both cadbury dairy milk chocolate <3 <3 and peanut butter! Gluten free snacks (besides fruit) and gluten free granola bars are mostly lacking at this point, so I’m navigating that still. But all in all I’m confident I can adjust to the food here well and maintain my health. I’ll try to write a blog post once a week or so, so that I can keep everyone updated, internet pending. As of now we have to go to the internet cafe to get on, but soon we should have limited internet set up at training. Feel free to let me know any questions you might have or what you want to know about so I can address them in further posts. Thank you again for all of the love and support. Best, Bethany

Dumela!

August 1st has always been an important day. Even when I didn't have a big event planned, it signaled the rustlings of new beginnings. A closure to the summer and the start of back to school. August 1st was when I would start to get antsy to buy school supplies and wait for the letter in the mail with my teachers. I may have been three weeks early, but I was always looking forward, ready for the next great adventure. Another great year. 

When you spend almost all of your life in school, August is the start of a year. New hope and new beginnings. It's fitting then, that August 1st was my departure for the Peace Corps. A new start. A new adventure. A goodbye to the person I was, and a blank path laid in front of me as I start the process of who I will become.

Before leaving I had an incredible month of love from friends and family. I was able to have gatherings, parties, dinners out, and fun days with everyone who is anyone. I'm so thankful for each and everyone one who made my last few weeks warm and bright. I love all of you. 

Every moment has the potential for growth on this journey, and my biggest challenge will be allowing myself to trust the process. Allowing myself to be open in the present and unsure of the future. To find the balance between the confidence to do my job and the humble attitude to learn from those around me. That process began the moment I stepped on the plane. 

Bag 1+2 of 4!

Our flights over went well. In total I was in the air for roughly 20 hours. We had a quick stop in Newark for Staging, which included a fantastic last supper at a mexican resturaunt and a taxi/bus sideswipe on the way to the airport, before we all departed together for Botswana. Our cohort is massive--currently 76 volunteers-- and it is still a challenge to learn everyones names. It's reassuring to know that the people that are here understand why I am here. They get why it's worth leaving everyone I love for two years, why I would go halfway around the world to a place I've never been with limited amenities to work for people I've never met. They get why I spent months trying to figure out what to pack and still managed to pack the day before, and why, in Peace Corps, it's best to just roll with the punches. I'm glad to finally be welcomed to the family. 

We arrived in country on August 3rd, after lugging around entirely too much luggage on entirely too little sleep. We spent the first three days in Gaborone (Gabs) where we went through our medical and immigration clearances as well as some extremely fast crash courses in Setswana (Dumela is Hello), the other official language in the country. We have had tons of great food and many ice breakers while we eagerly wait to go to Molepolole (Moleps). Greetings are very important in Setswana, and so we have been trying to practice with eachother before we meet our host families. 

Tomorrow we will travel to Moleps to meet our host families and move into our new homes for the next 11 weeks. I somehow managed to repack my bags for our 6am boarding, although not as well as my saint of a mother did the first time. While in Moleps we will be in Pre-Service Training. During this time I am still considered a Peace Corps Trainee rather than a volunteer. If I make it through all 11 weeks and pass my language test, I will then be a Peace Corps Volunteer. So keep your fingers crosed, because if this is anything like French I'm going to need a lot of help! 

While we are in Moleps, I will have very limited internet. Much less than I had while I was here in Gabs. They said to expect to have no internet for at least the first two weeks, and very limited thereafter. I know this will be good for me in order to disconnect and be present in Botswana, rather than feeling sad about the things I'm missing out on at home. Please feel free to continue to contact me electronically, and I'll simply respond when I gain access again. Pre Service Training is one of the hardest parts of the experience, but luckily all of the volunteers will be in it together. 

I'm sorry for the lack of pictures this time around. I will be sure to add some in later when I have the proper technological access. 

Sala Sentle,

Remain Well,

Bethany