PST

Coming Home

Anxiously awaiting the results of our fate, 34 Peace Corps trainees (term for Peace Corps Volunteers before our swear-in ceremony) patiently wait as our names are called one by one. The time has come for us to leave our initial training site and residence and move in with our very first Peace Corps host families in South Africa. Suspense is in the air. Sitting still in the crowded classroom of families, Peace Corps Trainees, and Peace Corps Staff, I pace anxiously in my head and…(over)think. I can compare this moment to an episode of Maury where the audience and potential Father/Baby Daddy await to hear the paternity results. Dramatic, I know.

My romanticized ideal of “Returning to the Motherland” was not quiet shattered but reframed. Reframed to truly appreciate the global diversity that exists in blackness.

 But for me…internal expectations and pressures rang in my head. Not for what I expected from my new family, but what I believed they may expect of me. “She’s American?…She’s black?…Why doesn’t she speak like us?...Why doesn’t she understand us?” I yearned for acceptance into my new family but overarchingly into this new culture. I wanted to find my place in Black South Africa. I made it to Africa, the Motherland, the first person in my family to do so in over 400 years. So, the connection would be instant, right? Not so much…and I knew that from the start but I stubbornly didn’t want to believe it. My romanticized ideal of “Returning to the Motherland” was not quiet shattered but reframed. Reframed to truly appreciate the global diversity that exists in blackness.

Posing with my Host Momma

Posing with my Host Momma

As a part of our Pre-Service training in Peace Corps, trainees attend several classes in the local target languages: isiZulu, Sepedi, and Tsonga. We are told that our new host families will predominantly speak Sepedi. Greetings are very important in South African culture and each language has a different greeting.  I nervously repeat the Sepedi greeting over and over in my head with hopes to not awkwardly fumble as I make my host family debut.  The room is full of energy: cheering, singing, dancing. Trainees and families embrace, one by one, as the trainee is welcomed and introduced into their new family.  I wait for my name to be called. Cheers progress and trainees re-seat themselves next to their new family members. The time has come. It’s me. My name is called. I walk to the front of the classroom and wait to meet my family.  I’m instantly greeted by my host momma who gives me a huge hug with a smile on her face. We walk back to her seat. I’m sure I overwhelmed her by my zealous Sepedi greeting as we sat down. My nervous energy is exchanged for excitement. And, I’m eager to head to my new home for the remainder of training.