MANGOES UP!
During the summer (December to March) I occasionally bought 10kg bags of mangoes. Mbabane has a big open-air fruit and vegetable market, and we like to buy in bulk-even though my 43-year-old knees are starting to complain about carrying bulk volumes of carrots, potatoes, and oranges!
We really like mangoes; so much, in fact, that we decided we would keep the seeds and try planting them out to grow our own trees. After devouring the sweet fruit (and picking the myriad fibre strands from between our teeth-get a non-smooth-flesh mango and you'll understand), we dried the seeds (the average seed fits in the palm of an adult hand), removed the tough outer skin (takes a pair of diagonal cutters and a slot screwdriver from my electrician days to do it), and planted them in a trench of potting soil beside a north-facing wall of the house. Mangoes love heat, and the north side of the house will have the most heat through the winter. I did not know what the seeds would do; they came from mangoes grown for eating (not cultivation) in the commercial market. I am happy to report, however, that 8-10 seedlings shot up! I am very excited. We will let them grow there through the winter, then plant them out (by the avocados) in the spring. It will be a few years before we see any fruit, but we hope that one lasting legacy of the Poglitsh's at Nsukumbili will be an avocado and mango orchard.
SOUTH OF THE BORDER-WAAAAAY SOUTH
We really like mangoes; so much, in fact, that we decided we would keep the seeds and try planting them out to grow our own trees. After devouring the sweet fruit (and picking the myriad fibre strands from between our teeth-get a non-smooth-flesh mango and you'll understand), we dried the seeds (the average seed fits in the palm of an adult hand), removed the tough outer skin (takes a pair of diagonal cutters and a slot screwdriver from my electrician days to do it), and planted them in a trench of potting soil beside a north-facing wall of the house. Mangoes love heat, and the north side of the house will have the most heat through the winter. I did not know what the seeds would do; they came from mangoes grown for eating (not cultivation) in the commercial market. I am happy to report, however, that 8-10 seedlings shot up! I am very excited. We will let them grow there through the winter, then plant them out (by the avocados) in the spring. It will be a few years before we see any fruit, but we hope that one lasting legacy of the Poglitsh's at Nsukumbili will be an avocado and mango orchard.
SOUTH OF THE BORDER-WAAAAAY SOUTH
During Christmas in America, Cub, Kit and I drove past South of the Border in South Carolina. But really-who (other than a truck driver or regular commuter) can really drive past South of the Border without stopping in? Not the three of us! After taking pictures with the fiberglass turtles, giant saddled rabbits, etc., the girls and I bought a jester's hat. The girls took turns wearing it after we continued driving to North Carolina.
The jester's hat made it to Swaziland. It also made its way into a pile of items which the girls (the 3 older ones) decided no longer got enough play time, and could go to other kids. That pile went over to the homestead one morning that Rudy went to help harvest corn (more later). Later in the day, Sakhile (the 5 year old daughter of Abner's younger wife) had put the hat on, as well as some multi-colored socks. South of the Border had gone WAY south.
KNEE DEEP IN THE HOOPLA
The jester's hat made it to Swaziland. It also made its way into a pile of items which the girls (the 3 older ones) decided no longer got enough play time, and could go to other kids. That pile went over to the homestead one morning that Rudy went to help harvest corn (more later). Later in the day, Sakhile (the 5 year old daughter of Abner's younger wife) had put the hat on, as well as some multi-colored socks. South of the Border had gone WAY south.
KNEE DEEP IN THE HOOPLA
The break between the first and second school terms was only 2 (instead of the normal 3) weeks long. The break between the second and third school terms will be 4 weeks. I have asked around and have received no explanation as to why.
Regardless, the first school break (during the autumn season) is the time to harvest corn. Seeing as the homestead has only one adult male between the two widows, Rudy went over to help bring in the harvest. That is one SATISFYING job. The weather is clear, cool, and beautiful, the view (as the homestead is near the top of a hill overlooking all of Dlangeni) is magnificent, and the feeling that you're doing something worthwhile (putting food in the pantry for the rest of the year) is priceless. I wield a grass slasher in my left hand to hack the stalk down. My glove-covered hands husk the cob. Slung across my chest is the backpack we got from World Youth Day 2002 in Toronto (the last one Blessed John Paul II attended). I would drop each husked cob into the backpack and when it was full, walk it over to a pile of other "mealies" (Swazi English for corn cobs). What a great way to spend a day.
With Abner out of commission during the growing season, though, it appears very little weeding got done. The non-corn plants were, in many places, above my knees. Also, some patches in the field had very few corn stalks, and those few had pathetic cobs. But still, it appeared to be a respectable harvest.
MAKE WA SAKHILE'S DAD
Regardless, the first school break (during the autumn season) is the time to harvest corn. Seeing as the homestead has only one adult male between the two widows, Rudy went over to help bring in the harvest. That is one SATISFYING job. The weather is clear, cool, and beautiful, the view (as the homestead is near the top of a hill overlooking all of Dlangeni) is magnificent, and the feeling that you're doing something worthwhile (putting food in the pantry for the rest of the year) is priceless. I wield a grass slasher in my left hand to hack the stalk down. My glove-covered hands husk the cob. Slung across my chest is the backpack we got from World Youth Day 2002 in Toronto (the last one Blessed John Paul II attended). I would drop each husked cob into the backpack and when it was full, walk it over to a pile of other "mealies" (Swazi English for corn cobs). What a great way to spend a day.
With Abner out of commission during the growing season, though, it appears very little weeding got done. The non-corn plants were, in many places, above my knees. Also, some patches in the field had very few corn stalks, and those few had pathetic cobs. But still, it appeared to be a respectable harvest.
MAKE WA SAKHILE'S DAD
Sakhile's mom has suffered another blow; during the school break, her father unexpectedly died. He was fit at Abner's funeral, and several weeks later he was dead. Please pray for her; she has a number of heavy loads to carry these days (2 small children, another one coming in August, a teenage girl who delivered a child last Saturday, and no husband to help her).
SOCCER STICKERS AND SOAP
SOCCER STICKERS AND SOAP
Ruth read "American Caesar" last year, William Manchester's monumental biography of General Douglas MacArthur. Somewhere in Manchester's writings (I'm not sure it was in American Caesar), Manchester says that "A man will not sell you his life for money, but he will give it to you for a ribbon"-the ribbon being a military decoration. I decided to try that principle in the classroom. I now keep a healthy supply of pencils, pencil sharpeners, and erasers at home. If a student gives a good answer or asks a good question, I pull one of those items out of my pocket and give in to them, then resupply my pocket on my next trip to the house. The students do appreciate it, as these items are eminently useful and not as easy to get as you might think (they cost money and most sold here are poor quality).
Bearing in mind that variety is the spice of life, I thought I'd introduce some different awards.
On the clearance table near the checkout at Shoprite grocery store sit two boxes of soccer World Cup 2010 stickers. Each packet has 4 to 6 stickers of players from the 32 teams which competed in South Africa last year. Also, our friends the Rehmeyers passed us a big ziploc bag full of soap (mainly from hotels) given to them by friends in the States. Hmmm, the Rehmeyers live in town and gave us "Nsukumhillbillies" a big bag of soap-you guys droppin' hints about our rural hygiene habits?
Anyway, I now distribute soccer stickers to the clever boys and soap to the insightful girls. They really seem to enjoy it. I do too-when I give a sticker pack to the boys, I insist they open it right away. I want to see which players they get. I have not seen an American sticker yet; when I do, I suspect I'm gonna trade a pencil, eraser, or sharpener (or all 3) for that sticker. I'm also thinking of taking all the remaining sticker packs at Shoprite to the manager and try to make a deal-E1 for all the packs (they are currently E2 each). It will get them out of his hair, and into the hands of my students. I don't know what I'll do when the soap runs out. Something, I trust, will appear.
IT WAS 20 YEARS AGO TODAY
Bearing in mind that variety is the spice of life, I thought I'd introduce some different awards.
On the clearance table near the checkout at Shoprite grocery store sit two boxes of soccer World Cup 2010 stickers. Each packet has 4 to 6 stickers of players from the 32 teams which competed in South Africa last year. Also, our friends the Rehmeyers passed us a big ziploc bag full of soap (mainly from hotels) given to them by friends in the States. Hmmm, the Rehmeyers live in town and gave us "Nsukumhillbillies" a big bag of soap-you guys droppin' hints about our rural hygiene habits?
Anyway, I now distribute soccer stickers to the clever boys and soap to the insightful girls. They really seem to enjoy it. I do too-when I give a sticker pack to the boys, I insist they open it right away. I want to see which players they get. I have not seen an American sticker yet; when I do, I suspect I'm gonna trade a pencil, eraser, or sharpener (or all 3) for that sticker. I'm also thinking of taking all the remaining sticker packs at Shoprite to the manager and try to make a deal-E1 for all the packs (they are currently E2 each). It will get them out of his hair, and into the hands of my students. I don't know what I'll do when the soap runs out. Something, I trust, will appear.
IT WAS 20 YEARS AGO TODAY
A local family (the Ncongwane's) hosted two members of our Peace Corps group during our training. A senior at the school was just a small boy when we were PCVs; I once asked him if he remembered Khanyisile, the Swazi name given to one of the volunteers. He said he had vague recollections of hearing about her. Ruth and I were reflecting recently that January marked 20 years since our group started our service. I think it's neat that the Peace Corps connected two groups of grass roots people from opposite ends of the world, and that the connection remains intact.
BAD NEWS
BAD NEWS
A friend sent me a link to an article about the connection between the birth control pill and HIV. I hoped the story was overblown hype so I passed the link to a prominent international expert in HIV/AIDS whom we know personally. He confirmed that the article is accurate. Read the story "The Pill’s Deadly Affair with HIV/AIDS" at http://catholicexchange.com/2010/04/26/129702/
WALK WITH THE DAUGHTERS
WALK WITH THE DAUGHTERS
Monday May 2 was the last day of the first school break. To give Ruth a break, I took the girls on a walk to the Mamba shop. The Mamba shop is almost all the way to Entfubeni elementary school, about 2km (1.2miles) from Nsukumbili. We took the back way, to have a little adventure and give Ruth more time for herself. We strolled through woods, up and down hills, through picturesque fence gates, and relished the crackers, soda and conversations with the proprietor at the shop. This provided another golden time with my wonderful children-and once again, I have Peace Corps to thank for it. Swaziland has been very good for us; I sure hope we return the favor to some degree.
I am particularly grateful for the proprietor, a Mrs. Mamba. She was here when I was a Peace Corps volunteer, and she's here today. With so many older people from that era now dead, it's sure nice she's still alive and well. I did tell her that recently.
WHAT'S IN A NAME? THE SEQUEL
I am particularly grateful for the proprietor, a Mrs. Mamba. She was here when I was a Peace Corps volunteer, and she's here today. With so many older people from that era now dead, it's sure nice she's still alive and well. I did tell her that recently.
WHAT'S IN A NAME? THE SEQUEL
"Jabulile" is the female variant of "Jabulani", which means joy. Jabulani was also the name of the soccer ball for World Cup 2010. We're not too far from the folks named in the attached article. [Note: That is why Rudy liked Jabulani; Ruth liked it because of a great church song "Jabulani, Jabulani, Jabulani maKholwa" -- "Rejoice, Rejoice, Rejoice Believers" and because she was recognizing a great need for Joy.] See above article.
JOYRIDE
JOYRIDE
Friday's is Girl's Club at our house. Rudy is in charge of Jabulile for those two to three hours while Ruth, the other 3 daughters, and any interested young girls (Yenzile, Phayo, Nonduduzo, and their friends) band together for a girls-only afternoon of fun. Thing is, I like to have fun too. So last Friday and just yesterday, I strapped our 1-year-old soccer ball namesake to my back and took her out for a bicycle ride. Last week we went 23km; yesterday we had less time (she wasn't awake right after school, and we had to change, feed, and dress her), but we still covered 12km. She seems very content on my back; certainly she doesn't squall as though she's hating it. I hope to participate in the City to City mountain bike race again this year, and so I do need some training. I like to think having the extra weight on those uphills will help prepare me for that race.
We regularly get free parenting advice from strangers even when riding a bike. At one point last Friday a mother shouted to me "umoya!" which means "wind!". Apparently she thought my blazing speeds (ha!) would cause sickness-inducing winds on Jabu. I lifted one arm in an expression of (mostly) mock exasperation. I'll keep doing the biking with Jabu, regardless of the comments of the gallery.
NSUKUMHILLBILLY
We regularly get free parenting advice from strangers even when riding a bike. At one point last Friday a mother shouted to me "umoya!" which means "wind!". Apparently she thought my blazing speeds (ha!) would cause sickness-inducing winds on Jabu. I lifted one arm in an expression of (mostly) mock exasperation. I'll keep doing the biking with Jabu, regardless of the comments of the gallery.
NSUKUMHILLBILLY
Upon digging into a bowl of freshly popped and salted popcorn, your 2nd born daughter says:"Doesn't this taste just like tinhlwa?" Tinhlwa are pan-fried flying termites.
hillbilly
The school's groundskeeper, a very hard working and helpful man, plays his cellphone ring tone for you. It's a rooster (digitally sampled and mixed) crowing "Old MacDonald Had a Farm" with a snare drum accompaniment.
hillbilly
The same groundskeeper tells you that for fun, he plays his rooster ring tone at his house. When he does, his own (live) rooster believes a rival has entered the compound and begins to round up the hens for himself.
hillbilly head games
