Essay: The Beatles Say It Best, You Say Goodbye, I Say Hello

Life is full of hellos and goodbyes. There are the hellos we wish we’d never made. The inevitable goodbyes that we never want to experience. The hellos we want to last a lifetime. The goodbyes we wish we had made earlier. In looking back on the last 7 months serving as a Peace Corps Volunteer in Swaziland, my life can be summarized in an ongoing collection of hellos and goodbyes.

I departed from the U.S. in June 2007 with an assignment to become a Community Health and HIV/AIDS Educator in rural Swaziland. I attended farewell parties, broke off relationships that would not endure the distance, parted with friends and coworkers, and hugged my loved ones before taking my spot in DIA’s airport security line. Upon arrival in Washington D.C., I said my hellos to fellow volunteers departing for Swaziland and Lesotho. After just a few days, my hellos extended to southern Africa where greetings were exchanged with Peace Corps staff, Swazi host families, community leaders and members, workers at non-profit organizations, school teachers and students, bus drivers and conductors, women selling fruits and vegetables in the markets, shop owners, neighbors, and children following me during my jogs.

During the month of December 2007, my collection of hellos and goodbyes was unique to the Peace Corps experience. I was the only volunteer to say goodbye to my Swazi family and fellow volunteers and travel home to Fort Morgan, Colorado where I spent the holidays with my family. It might have seemed strange to skip out on adventures in Cape Town, Durban, or Maputo but I knew I had to attend to important hellos and goodbyes.

My nephew, born a few months prior, awaited his aunt’s first hello. My grandfather, in his late 80s, was also awaiting the goodbye he would make to his family and friends following his last Christmas celebration. Although I remain a skeptic of destiny and fate, I believe that hellos and goodbyes coincide in an attempt to provide balance in our lives. Amongst the hellos to my family and friends during my trip home, I will cherish those few moments with the newest member of my family. Amongst the goodbyes to my friends and family, I will also appreciate the final Christmas with my grandfather.

Saying goodbye is never easy. But, as I have learned in Swaziland, saying hello (or ‘sawubona’ in siSwati) is also a challenging task. Each hello is an attempt to build relationships with people in a new and different culture. Each hello is a sign of respect for cultural norms, a practice in learning a new language, and a possible entrance into a conversation about HIV/AIDS education and prevention. Each hello is also a reminder that my time in Swaziland is not only difficult but temporary. For each goodbye that I will make during my volunteer service, I will have just as many hellos when I return home. And in overcoming the difficulty of making these good-byes and hellos, I grow stronger as my collection of greetings expands to reflect the emblematic experiences of life.

Readjustment

After returning from the U.S. for a brief holiday visit with my family, I am struggling through a readjustment period I didn’t expect. I was so indescribably happy to see my family that Swaziland took a backseat in my mind (at least I tried to make it that way). I wanted to melt away into the chaos that remains to be my family at Christmas time. But, after a week, I had to repack my bags and trudge back to the airport at 4:30am.

My trip to Colorado was a much needed mental break from the many frustrations in my work (I guess attempted work is more accurate) but also a reminder of the many people/things/ideas I miss while in Swaziland. Among these include my family, friends, holding babies, watching my crazy little cousins run around, hugging my Mom, talking politics with my Dad, listening to my sister play violin and piano, riding in cars, quality beef, chips and salsa, market-driven economy, snow, indoor heating, sushi, my full closet of clothing, showers, my huge bed with fluffy pillows and flannel sheets, the wonderful world of Mexican food, good wine, eating a variety of food, clean (I mean really clean) underwear, the list could continue forever…

And, with this unfortunate readjustment period, I am also realizing what I did not miss about my current host country: relentless apathy, persistent Swazi men (frequently drunk) who insist that they pay dowry for me, maize, children asking for money and candy, adults asking for “capital” or money, khombis, Rihanna’s ‘Umbrella’ song, bad techno music, feeling grimy, not being able to sleep in past 7am without someone knocking on my door, loud-mouth roosters, chicken crap at my door, lightning that blows out my electricity for days, constantly being compared to the volunteer I replaced, this list could also continue forever…

As each day passes, I am searching for the things I did miss. The list is short but includes fellow volunteers, my host family, the kids from next door knocking on my door saying “Sicela kubhala?” (“May we write/draw?”), running along the quiet dirt roads, cooking in my hut, having endless hours to read, meeting new people, the hike to Mankayane (such a great workout!), cute babies staring at my white skin…

Without a doubt, my life in Swaziland is a challenge. A challenge to be away from the things I love, the people I love, the environment that has supported me for the past 23 years. A challenge to work through the lack of motivation around me and then confront apathy, lack of education, lack of resources, and language/cultural barriers. But, if I leave in 6 months, 1 year, or 18 months, I will hope to have educated at least one individual on HIV/AIDS and at least one more individual on the importance of development. At this point, it’s the only way to keep going every day—the knowledge that I can educate someone to protect themselves, care for others, and keep working towards a better future.