I promise. It was..."my shoe".

Hey guys! I have a little bit of time, so I thought I would say hello quick! I just got into this dunk-a-dunk town about an hour ago and my bus leaves in 45 min! This is my shopping town. It’s about 2 ½ hrs away and once I get there I have 2 hours to quickly get everything done before the bus leaves again. Every time I board the bus for this place though, I always have a crazy experience which is kinda fun. Today for example I reconfirmed my numbness towards nudity. Did I get your attention? The word “nudity” tends to do that. Well, let me explain. Mothers here are not shy about their breasticles (What most people call breasts, but I say breasticles because its makes me laugh…cheap entertainment. I need to grow up.) Well, this one mother on the bus ride here was breast feeding her 3 or 4 year old on her lap. Side note, I think a rule of thumb should be when a child can help you sling the boob out of the shirt while your talking to someone or can use a complete sentences requesting the beverage pump…its time to start big kid food. Just a side thought. Anyways, I was talking to my friend Matthew about it and he told me how boobs aren’t the same to him anymore either. As a female I would assume my reaction to this atmosphere is different than males, but we agreed on some things. He said, “They just aren’t as cool as they used to be.” Rightfully so, Matthew, rightfully so. Swazis are very comfortable with their bodies. I appreciate that…usually. Whether it’s the old man in public behind a bush going to the bathroom and greeting me as he submerges from the branches or my naked grandma who splashes me in the river while I’m trying to concentrate on washing my clothes, the word bizarre or awkward or uncomfortable doesn’t translate. Swazis just don’t care about nakedness. Some of you guys might be thinking, “You are 23 yrs. old. Its time to not laugh at boobs or butts. It’s a natural part of life.” Well I say to you, I agree nakedness is a beautiful thing, but I can’t control the snickers sometimes. It’s as impossible as controlling my giggles when someone makes a tooting noise with “their shoe”. Please don’t ask me to give that up. Being in Africa is definitely helping though. The frequency of seeing naked parts numbs the effect at least 30% of the time. I now am starting to see, other volunteers agree, that the breast is more like equipment than a body part. A tool. Kinda like a frying pan or a toaster. The guys in my group agree. I would even dare to call it an appliance because it serves a function. Gives food. A natural appliance. A mom with a boob is like catcher with a baseball glove if you ask me. The point I’m getting at is Swaziland is teaching me a lot and each day, if I look for them. I can get some sort of lesson on life or culture. I feel it’s my duty to share those life lessons with the people I love the most back at home.

I went to a Thanksgiving supper at a married volunteer couple’s home about 3 hour hike on Thursday. It’s nice to be with people over the holidays. Like I said before, it’s not like my last Thanksgiving with references to Squanto and KFC drumsticks with friends, but I got to thinking that its not often we get to celebrate the American holiday within the summer heat of South Africa. Actually, it’s not my 1st Thanksgiving in Africa. My friend Laura from Puerto Rico emailed me reminding me of that. It was about 3 years ago when we celebrated Thanksgiving in land rovers in the Sahara Desert when I was working with YWAM. We stopped at a village when returning back to our base late at night. We bought some chickens and paid people to prepare them for us since we had no food. We each had a zip lock bag with pieces of the chicken in it. The driver spoke Arabic and broken Spanish and we had a discussion about how I was a Christian. Through Laura translating, the three of us sat up front going up and down sand dunes while people slept in the back seats. They thought my story was amazing about how my parents were raised in a church too. The driver had to hide from everyone that he was a Christian because he lived in a part of Algeria where everyone was Muslim. I never realized how cool that Thanksgiving was until now, so thanks for letting me reminisce. I don’t know if I ever told people that story either. It was a difficult Thanksgiving away from family. I remember after staying in Algeria for a month, I was sure that God didn’t want me to leave the US again nor do international mission work. 3 years later I find myself trying to tackle my Thanksgiving meal on my friend’s homestead and talking about someone’s Swazi breasts I witnessed this morning. God is hilarious. I’m not alone this holiday season. The same God who was with me talking to my driver in Algeria is with me Swaziland. That’s comforting.

Its kinda cool because I see how some experiences I’ve had is helping now while I’m here. I was an aunt in 5th grade. The only one in my class. Holla! Some kids brought Gigga Pets, Generation X jeans, and slap bracelets for show and tell. I brought a human. My baby niece. I scored some serious popularity points on that one. Haha! “Oh yeah, Marcus, your show and tell takes AAA batteries and is named Chester….well, my show and tell has an umbilical cord.” I was able to help take care of my niece as a little kid and I liked to help my big sister with the changes of motherhood too. Now, my Swazi aunt, who is a year older than me, is pregnant and kind of in a similar situation as my sister was when I was in 5th grade. I feel like I’m able to help her in a different way now that I’m older and understand the situation. I tell her things I remember from when my sisters were pregnant. We hang out about everyday. She’s sassy and loud. She knows, so it’s not bad that I said that.  I don’t know if it’s a hormonal thing or what, but yesterday she insisted on wearing a stocking cap, pants, skirt, a wool jacket and socks. Its summer here. I looked at her with confusion and after she insulted my colorful outfit and I said, “I’m not taking fashion tips from you! Look what you are wearing! We’re in Africa, not Antarctica!” She punched me in my ribs (I told you she plays rough) and then we laughed. I pretended to be passed out in the grass to make her feel bad, but she didn’t care and went out to the field. I’m hoping she’ll let me go with her to the hospital when she has the baby. I told her I would buy her KFC if she would let me watch. (KFC is the only American fast food chain in Swaziland and they love it here.) She doesn’t want ANYONE to go with her and she is very difficult to live with sometimes, so although challenging some days, she is still my friend. If she wanted me there at the hospital to help, I’d do it in a heartbeat. I try to give her fruit and veggies whenever I eat them to make sure the baby is getting a balanced diet. I want her to test for HIV/AIDS, but there is so much stigma here that people would rather just live with not knowing so they can keep living like they had. The problem is the infants get it when the moms don’t take the ARVs to decrease the viral load.

I miss you guys everyday. I can’t wait to hear from you. Thank you so much for the letters you’ve given me while I’ve been here. I read them over and over a lot to get me through lonely days. They help. This thanksgiving I am thankful for good friends and family at home. Home is where the heart is right. Well you guys have my heart. Wink. I will try updating you again within the next month. Maybe over Christmas time? Love you guys! Talk to you soon hopefully. Happy holidays.