This is going to be a post which describes MY feelings in Mcar. This post shouldnt offend anyone, but in case it does, I will reiterate that this blog is a reflection of the feelings of Erica Wherry and does not represent the Peace Corps or US government in any way.
Now, before coming to Peace Corps, I lived in Atlanta ( Black ), graduated from Spelman College ( Black) and was a member of the AME Zion church ( Black). Despite this, previous to now, I still felt as though I had led a fairly integrated experience. I went to a mixed high school, danced ballet until the 10th grade and actually enjoyed outdoor water sports, for example. I realize these interests dont necessarily scream "integrated experience" but they are the only examples I can think of now. Despite this, I never had the " only black girl" experience. But, I do believe that I am officially having this experience now.
My fellow trainees and I were headed on a road trip out of our training town. In college, my friends and I had numerous road trips ( namely FAMU/TSU or anywhere else HCASC took us). These trips are actually responsible for some of my most memorable college experiences. So, here I am in Mcar with a whole bunch of people whom I do not know all that well and who are listening to music that I do not know AT ALL. It really made me feel very disconnected and isolated from the group on top of already being in a country where I am disconnected from the culture and the language of the people. It seemed that the entire bus was familiar with the music they were playing, but me. My mind began to wonder about whether or not I could really be happy in a group where we dont even share common ground (or familiarity) on something as simple as musical choice. I was really being extra emotional about it.
But, not even within 10 mins of my thinking about how disconnected I was, a member of my PC training group turns on an Al Green song. I kid you not, the entire bus sings this really old school r & b song and I instantly realize that I am in a unique position, having to integrate into two cultures. But, American culture is American culture. Even though people may come from different backgrounds within the US framework, the fact that we are still Americans binds us tightly together and most especially when all familiarity has been stripped away. Im learning to deal, but its a gradual process and one that I am thankful to be having with the really amazing group of people that I am with now:)
Friday, August 13, 2010
Friday, August 6, 2010
Manahoana Madagasikara!!!
Ive been in Madagascar for a few weeks now and trying to sum up my experiences in a few short paragraphs will be a bit difficult. I know yall wont read more than a few paragraphs so I will try to keep it short, sweet and to the point. Overall, Madagascar is amazing and I am adjusting to life here relativly well. I have not recieved any mail from anyone so Im assuming life is getting along just fine without me in the states. However, if anyone feels the desire/need/inclination/ to send me a letter or something I will be more than happy. My address is already posted on the blog. LOL!
To begin, its FREEZING in Madagascar. I do realize that I am in the southern hemisphere and it is technically winter, but I definatly did not expect it to actually feel like winter. Since Madagascar is considered a part of Africa, I natually assumed it would be exceptionally hot no matter the "theoretical" season. In actuality, Mcar is not THAT cold. Its just that there is no heat. No heat any where, at any time. I thought I had gotten smart when I put my host moms small charcoal stove in my room to heat it. But, Peace Corps is not too fond of that idea. They are worried about CO2 emissions or something. Before, I would literally shiver in my room at night. So, until they figure out a better solution, I say it stays.
My second Peace Corps experience came in the task of washing clothes. Now, at home, all the effort required to wash clothes involved seperating the laudry and placing it into the machiene. This is clearly not the case in Mcar. I had a tub full of really muddy/dirty clothes that I filled with water. I started to scrub the clothes with my host mom and within about 15 mins of this chore, my back begins to kill me. My host mom sees (read hears) my discomfort and gets me a stool to sit on. This stool, however, was designed for the calcium and protein deprived Malagasy so it did not do too much to help this American girl. So, I continue to scrub as the sun sets and I was still no where near finishing. We have electricity, but in Mcar that does not mean much. My host mom still had to cook dinner, feed the animals and get the kids ready for bed. But, before she did all of this, she finished my washing. Needless to say, I was beyond embaressed. I did manage to hang them all, however. American lesson #1: When I get to my permanent site, I will need to hire a laundry lady. I wont be washing clothes by hand over a rock again. Sad, I know, but its true.
The Peace Corps is taking very good care of me and I have been instructed in the proper ways of bleaching my drinking water and fighting off malaria and other diseases found in this country. I have gotten something called Guardia, but some meds took care of it quick. No biggie. Hope everything is good with you all back in the developed world. Im actually kind of enjoying living about 100 years in the past. It has a charm to it. Please excuse any spelling/ grammar or any other kinds of mistakes you may find. I didnt have that much time to write this and the internet is rediculously slow.
Veloma!!
To begin, its FREEZING in Madagascar. I do realize that I am in the southern hemisphere and it is technically winter, but I definatly did not expect it to actually feel like winter. Since Madagascar is considered a part of Africa, I natually assumed it would be exceptionally hot no matter the "theoretical" season. In actuality, Mcar is not THAT cold. Its just that there is no heat. No heat any where, at any time. I thought I had gotten smart when I put my host moms small charcoal stove in my room to heat it. But, Peace Corps is not too fond of that idea. They are worried about CO2 emissions or something. Before, I would literally shiver in my room at night. So, until they figure out a better solution, I say it stays.
My second Peace Corps experience came in the task of washing clothes. Now, at home, all the effort required to wash clothes involved seperating the laudry and placing it into the machiene. This is clearly not the case in Mcar. I had a tub full of really muddy/dirty clothes that I filled with water. I started to scrub the clothes with my host mom and within about 15 mins of this chore, my back begins to kill me. My host mom sees (read hears) my discomfort and gets me a stool to sit on. This stool, however, was designed for the calcium and protein deprived Malagasy so it did not do too much to help this American girl. So, I continue to scrub as the sun sets and I was still no where near finishing. We have electricity, but in Mcar that does not mean much. My host mom still had to cook dinner, feed the animals and get the kids ready for bed. But, before she did all of this, she finished my washing. Needless to say, I was beyond embaressed. I did manage to hang them all, however. American lesson #1: When I get to my permanent site, I will need to hire a laundry lady. I wont be washing clothes by hand over a rock again. Sad, I know, but its true.
The Peace Corps is taking very good care of me and I have been instructed in the proper ways of bleaching my drinking water and fighting off malaria and other diseases found in this country. I have gotten something called Guardia, but some meds took care of it quick. No biggie. Hope everything is good with you all back in the developed world. Im actually kind of enjoying living about 100 years in the past. It has a charm to it. Please excuse any spelling/ grammar or any other kinds of mistakes you may find. I didnt have that much time to write this and the internet is rediculously slow.
Veloma!!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)