Welcome to Khorixas: Population Me

I’ve been in Khorixas for five days.

Five days of sandstorms and dust devils.

Five days.
Three books.
Six visitors.
Four cool drinks.
Two trips to the MultiSave.
Three hundred SMSes.

And yes. Even one sunburn.

My first day back in the working world was a reminder of why I loved being a journalist so much: finished products. Each day spent in the newsroom meant another assignment, another interview, and before I went home, another completed story. Clips now stored away in binders and boxes serve as proof that I showed up, clocked in and put it all down on paper. They are evidence of my nine to five (but often later) life.

This will definitely take some getting used to.

I was up at 6 a.m. (which will come as no surprise to those who know me, or to those who’ve served as PCVs). After a cup of coffee, a bowl of Jungle Oats and a bit of reading I was out the door for day one of Real Peace Corps Service. Orientation started at 8:30 and ended at approximately 8:31. It began with “Moro!” and ended with “Here’s your office.” Not much was said in between.

I’ll be working out of a six-room building next door to the hospital. My old roommate, Kate (in the end, no house sharing with newlyweds for me) works just across the hall. Another social worker sits next door, and a cleaning lady has taken up shop in the room on the other side. The hallways are papered with Ministry posters about safe sex, condoms and getting tested, but the walls of my office are completely bare. Thankfully, two windows mean more sun and fresh air than I ever saw in NYC, and the massive dining room table (also known as my desk) leaves plenty of room for spreading out. What, exactly, I haven’t quite figured out. I’m still waiting on a phone. It's unlikely I'll ever see a computer.

My supervisor and I met Thursday—the day before my brother’s 30th birthday—to talk about expectations for my time in Khorixas. The structure of my job, he said, is up to me. The hospital, he added, will simply serve as my resource and support center. In the world of Peace Corps, this arrangement is ideal. Particularly over the long term. But when it comes to first days and Monday mornings it can be a bit overwhelming.

Today I packed my bag with that in mind. In addition to manuals about female empowerment, community action, domestic abuse and alcoholism, I brought an old (but still new to me) Newsweek and a book to pass the time. But my open-door policy and an extra chair--compliments of the cleaning lady--meant people were coming in and out for most of the day. Patrick and Paris, two of the hospital’s drivers, stopped by to chat about the holidays. I met a colleague who wants me to take him back to America and another whose already requested that I extend my service. There was an assistant from the morgue who also leads an HIV support group, and the director of the Red Cross for Khorixas.

I wasn’t exactly busy. But considering it was my first day in an undefined job with no real direction or guidance, in a place where I barely speak the language, things went better than expected. I read a couple of health guides and even took some notes. I volunteered to help Kate run an event for the disabled later on this month, scheduled a meeting with the Red Cross early next week, met with Tonje, a SCORE volunteer here, to talk about designing the health component of her new after school program, and worked with Jessica on an outline for the girls’ club we plan to start at her school.

All that, and I even managed to finish my book.