Not all fun and games.

Despite what many of you are thinking after reading the previous blogs, we do actually work...some. Though it's not your usual 8-5 or even 8-noon job, we like to think of our work in terms of everyday living. Living, to some degree is after all work. It's hard to wake up to roosters chortling, turkeys gobbling (or rather laughing, jay believes at him and his inability to wake up easily), get out of bed, discuss whether or not to go running, make some breakfast, have a nice fresh cup of french press coffee (hint we can make coffee so ground coffee is a nice surprise), do some reading, chit chat with boGogo, do some laundry (not easy to do i promise), walk down to the garden, say hi to the neighbors or rather "sanibonani", and all this most the time before 9am. There's any number of events that might consume our time for the rest of the day. For a couple of months now Jay has been busy germinating fruit trees with the hopes of encouraging the community to plant orchards or start a nursery. Together we have been visiting homesteads, delivering bean seeds, (kinda like a door to door salesman, but not) trying to convince people to diversify their crops. We've also been meeting with the local youth clubs and teaching health/lifeskills at the high school. Hilary gets anxiety from this as you all can only imagine her standing in front of a group of 80 high schoolers, age range from 16 to 28. Yes you can go to high school forever here. Hilary has been working with the local women to start a sewing co-op, among other things. And of course, throughout all the work we're doing we are building relationships and discussing some of the more complicated issues invloving HIV/AIDS, which is, after all, our purpose in being here.

Hey...we're in Africa!

Something we find ourselves saying more often than not. Kinda that, let's take a moment, remember where we are and then just accept that the bus isn't coming today, or that the bus came but then the driver came down with some terrible case of something that requires a bathroom and just isn't coming back to the bus even though you're out in the middle of nowhere (no lie this happened to Hilary), or that you won't be having those blueberry muffins you were craving because electricity is out...again. Ok, that last one was a stretch considering once again we are in rural Africa and should be thankful to have electricity at all. So now in response to so many inquiries that we've received from so many of you back we decided to do a little series on Swaziland living. The first will be entitled...Everything Bathroom. No, not what happens in the bathroom but more so what the bathroom entails here. First off we have what's known to most as a pit latrine. Basically an outhouse. A toilet shrouded in beautiful silver aluminium which either resembles a futuristic confessional booth or a hillbilly's rocket ship. Take your pick...however it does include a beautiful skylight above the door so you can look out at the starry night sky or get pelted by rain. While most people would have a toilet brush, trash can, maybe a magazine holder next to their toilet we have a stick, or rather a reed, which is used to beat down spiders, and other various insects lurking in the "pit" in order to provide a short barrier period where one can sit undisturbed. You get used to it though we can't say you ever get "comfortable" with it. Now lets' take a step inside the house where a small plastic tub/basin awaits. We do have a solar shower which is a poor excuse for a real shower but a luxury compared to traditional bucket bathing. However, there are times it's difficult to go through the process of filling the bag and getting everything just right so you then resort to the bucket only. Now this is a fun experience, NOT a romantic one so don't get any ideas for back at home. Anyhow, it's all really very simple, you first lean over the tub to wash your arms and hair, then you crouch your body into the tub hobbit style and proceed to pretend your an elephant dousing your body in warm soapy water. You don't have to pretend but it makes the whole experience a little more fun, and besides who doesn't want to be an elephant every now and then. And that's about it, you pry your body our of the tub, dry off and there you go, clean as a whistle, or so you thought until you put a clean shirt on and thirty minutes later look at the neck only to see that it's already brown with dirt. Awesome. Alright, well so that's your first lesson into Swazi living. Enjoy.

Terry the turkey met his match...

In the form of a "lomhlope" (white person) wielding a very sharp knife. Like all big events here in Swaziland, this Thanksgiving did not pass without celebration...or fresh meat. Three days before the big day we ordered our turkeys (meaning we walked 20 minutes to one of our Babe's house and asked for two turkeys). Wednesday, the birds arrived, not dead, plucked and plastic wrapped in normal American fashion but alive, fully clothed and still kickin' in true swazi style. No exaggeration on the still kickin' part either. Jay and Mongaliso were in charge of slaughtering this time around and while the head was removed in a second flat, Jay held firmly to old Terry for another 7-8minutes. If ever a chicken and Turkey were in a fight our advice to you is side with the turkey, you won't be dissappointed. Plucking and dressing ensued and the following day Hilary slathered that turkey in herbs and butter. All was ready for our tiny electric oven when lo and behold the electricity went out. Off to the wood burning stove we went and the rest is history. On a side note, Loftin family you will be very proud to know that monkey bread and Mema's dressing have both now been introduced to Africa. We can only hope that everyone back home had as wonderful and eventful a Thanksgiving as we did, afterall there's so much to be thankful for...like electricity.

Also wanted to point out our address changed...
Hilary and Jay Jackson, PCV
PO Box 317
Matata L312
Swaziland, Africa

I Miss the Rains.

Hello to our long lost friends and Family. We are still alive and well here in Swaziland despite the prolonged silence. We have been spending most of our time in our community separated from these strange machines, so it has been difficult to keep in touch. That is unless you have dusted off the old pen and paper to see if you still remember how to write (or if you call us on our cell phone the writing just makes it seem further away). Life is wonderful in our new village. The rains have finally made their debut bringing an excitement in the air and personally a long sought after insight into Toto's* inspiration. These rains have brought new meaning to the term thunderstorm as we sit quietly in our hut staring out the window at the worlds greatest disco party while praying not to be a part of it. Jay actually received an appetizer when he was mysteriously shocked while stirring an enormous pot of tortilla soup. Yes we have brought Tex-Mex to Swaziland. We will soon wrap up our "getting to know you" period of our service and are looking forward to starting some tangible projects. Until the next time.

*Toto was a band that played a song in the 1980s for those of you fortunate enough to not know.

Getting Comfortable...

Just wanted to let you all know we have survived our first two weeks at site with ease. We couldn't be happier with our community/home/family. We've been busy setting up house but alas we think we are nearing the end. Jay has been building hanging shelves for our kitchen and "bathroom" and Hilary crocheted/tied reeds together for a fruit basket. Needless to say we've been giving the Swazis lots of good home improvement ideas. Moms and dads thank you so much for the packages. Jacksons, it's true, the seed package finally arrived and not a moment too soon as we have just repaired our garden fence and were planning to plant Thursday. We miss you all enormously and will write more exciting news soon...until then Salani Kahle (Stay well)- Hil and Jay

p.s. Tasha my email is hilcjackson@gmail.com

p.s.s. this is the view from our front door...jealous much?

iZiki Zendota

One week ago today, with bags packed and excitement on our faces, we entered the iZiki Zendota bus for the ride of a lifetime. For those of you who don't speak siSwait, iZiki Zendota means "steps over men" and we have no doubts that this bus has stepped over men and will not hesitate to do so in the future. After a 2 and a half ride to a place in the country even the locals couldn't show you on a map, we arrived at what will be our home for the next 2 years. It's a small village nestled in the lugolweni hills, complete with a clinic, primary and secondary schools and 3 drying up rivers that leave Jay salivating for his boat imagining what they would be like in the rainy season. We will be living with the Simelane family, on a hill that overlooks the town and entire valley. We were told from the top of the hill we will live on we will be able to see Mozambique and South Africa on a clear day. Most of the family lives away from the homestead with the exceptionof the co-matriarchs, Bogogo. (grandmothers) The first morning we awoke to find one of our gogo sporting a hand sickle as a hat, recently returned from her sweet potatoe fields. Along with visiting the clinic and the schools the next 3 days consisted of an ongoing, very energetic game if charades intermixed with broken siSwati, as neither of our bogogo speaks a lick of english. Needless to say our visit went very well and we were sad to leave them the following Wednesday, especially when bogogo exclaimed, "Nyalo, sitawungesitunge!" (Now, we will be lonely) 2 more weeks of training and we will once again join bogogo to begin our work and create a home in Ntjanini.

-view from a hike in our community

Happy Aniversary! Here, have a chicken.

And with that the deed was done. Hilary took the knife offered and while her faithful accomplice (Jay) held the wings firmly down to the body, she stretched the neck with one hand and with a few quick saws beheaded the chicken with the other. The body writhed, wriggled and squaked but to no avail as Jay's grip held firm, preventing what would have been an unfortunate escape. Hilary then completed the task of plucking and dressing then handed the job over to Jay to braai (grill) the meat. DELICIOUS!!! How comforting it is to know exactly where your dinner is coming from. Hilary made chocolate cake in celebration.
Our anniversary was Monday, July 28th and this was the gift our family bestowed on us. A gift we will never forget. Jay met the dawn on Monday with a plate full of fresh pancakes and homemade syrup. Breakfast in bed for Hilary. We then had class followed by a run that included saving a Swazi man from certain death as he used two teetering stones as the jack for his car and then proceeded to climb all the way under the wheel well. Jay offered whatever help he could but in the end we had to go as the sun was setting and it's a cardinal sin to be out after dark. We were met at home with the chicken and within the hour dinner was ready. We shared the evening with our family and then retired to our room to study. All in a day's work. Moral of the story...never question the validity of the statement, "running around like a chicken with it's head cut off."