“How could you possibly be tired? You live in South Africa! What are you working so hard at?”
“Well, I’ve been speaking to Ben about getting new toilets and chalkboard paint for the primary school. I’m in communication with a reading workshop facilitator who has promised new books. I am team teaching grade 10 English. I am working with Leadership Academy and we have our first huge meeting of the year on Friday. I just finished making testing kits for the primary school teachers, to make testing simpler. I am working with the clerk to create a resource center for teachers. I’m helping other local volunteers with Camp GLOW, a Peace Corps girls empowerment camp. And the local NGO asked me to help her find financial support and tutor the children once a week. I’ve been communicating with other PCVs about career and guidance center materials for the center I’ll create in a few months. What have you been doing this week?”
“I went to one school and am helping the clerk sort one filing cabinet into things she needs to keep, and things that can go. This may take all week.” I gave Chad the death stare. He continued, “I think some of us are here to live like Zulus. And some of us are here to live like Americans.”
The dilemma: my culture meets your culture.
The other volunteers in my area sleep in everyday. They go into their schools most days, but often only choose one school to attend each day. They wait and wait and wait for someone to become available to work with them. They have South Africans doing most of the work.
I, on the other hand (which is so far away, it might as well be disconnected from the body), wake up at 5h30. It is rare for me to not attend both schools each day. I walk into school and have a clear agenda. In fact, I am aware of every individual I must speak with and what we need to discuss. If there is a down moment, I get out my phone and pop out a few e-mails to schedule future projects. There’s always someone to reach out to for help. If the ladies working at the local NGO spot me, they ask me to visit them after school. When I return home, I have papers to grade, things to plan, a to-do list to complete for the evening.
Our job calls for us to transfer skills and provide lasting change. I am here to teach South Africans how to manage their own problems, to find solutions, to accomplish new things. Is my style of being a volunteer impressive? No. It is downright foolish. It’s too American.
Why am I wrong?
Firstly, South Africans don’t plan. This whole concept of having an agenda is mostly to impress others, not for the functionality. In fact, when there is an agenda, it is rarely followed. South Africans could be teaching me about life if I slowed down enough to listen. They believe things will come together. Somehow food will find their table, money will find their wallets, and a car will pick them up to take them into town. When things come together, they praise God and thank Him for working in their favor. To be assertive is unnecessary, and unfortunately it is often considered rude.
Secondly, the lifestyle here doesn’t support a work-to-the-bones type of attitude. When you arrive home, there is no crashing in front of a television, ordering delivery, or taking a nice hot bath. Instead, there is water to be fetched, food to be prepared and cooked, clothes to be washed by hand (before it is late so they can dry in the sun), children needing help with homework, and music to keep you company. Sleeping happens after you wash your dishes by hand (which includes you heating the water first), clean the kitchen, and iron your clothes for tomorrow. Bedtime is no later than 21h00, or you will be a zombie in the morning. My principal once 
pulled me aside and said, “We, South African teachers, are lazy.” I explained that they are much more active at home, and therefore are tired when it comes time to work. Americans always put work first, which isn’t healthy. I don’t believe there is enough energy within my body to work like an American at school and as a South African at home. I must choose one.
Finally, this isn’t what I want. I want to be a volunteer with patience and focus. I want to be intentional. I came here to deal with massive problems in a relaxing way. (Yes, I set out to accomplish an oxymoron. Maybe I’m the moron.) I wanted to flee fast-pace America and take up a life of slowness and purpose. South Africans say the white chicken is stupid, perhaps this refers to white men running around like chickens with their heads cut off.
Even though I can see, comprehend, and reason all of the above, I don’t want to change. I am American. I work hard. I don’t want to sit around and wait. I like to move. I like to have new projects on the horizon. If I slept in everyday, I’d miss the best part of school, bonding with the staff in the morning. I wouldn’t get alone time with Mama if we didn’t walk to school together. I would become depressed if I had day after day to myself to sit in my home. Besides, I am not here to sit around.
How do I balance the culture in me with the lifestyle around me? There is no right answer. It happens in a variety of successful ways. I would like to learn how to throw out my agenda, be in the moment, and realize that my American timetable is not honored here. (This sounds nice, doesn’t it? Try it. You will hate how it feels to throw away your plans for the day. But do we value time more than people in our culture?) Do I not have the faith to trust that if it must be, it will be without my planning? I would like for this faith in the unknown and unseen to be strengthened. I would like to allow for things to flow. An old lady at a writer’s night once told me, “Don’t push the river.” When I find that I am the only one rushing to make a meeting, I will pause. I will wait until there is a desire from a South African for me to work on a given task. I will start here.
By joining Peace Corps, I wanted to gain more perspective, find peace in daily life, and live with locals. I didn’t realize I would have to forfeit my cultural pace and work ethic in order to gain these things. The sacrifice is worth it, but that adjustment period is difficult. I wanted to return to the states with a silent, lengthy list of projects I had completed in the Peace Corps. I think the shorter the list, the more I have adjusted to their culture, and thus a stronger impact they have made on my life and I on theirs. This culture will teach you that by focusing on individual accomplishments one misses the essence of life: being with people. My devotion to my personal agenda notebook has led me astray from the one plain focus I must maintain. What should be my focus? The people. What is the right answer? The people. (The what?) The people.
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