At the end of week three of PST, I am settling into my daily routine in a rural village in Mpumalanga province. My morning begins with a chorus of cows mooing, roosters crowing, sheep baaing, dogs howling, donkeys braying, and any other number of noises beginning at the crack of dawn. Once I muster up the energy to crawl out of bed into the freezing morning I make breakfast and head out for the day. My daily walk to language class is a highlight of the day- greeting locals, and as they slowly get to know me, having them greet me as well. I spend the day in class but as soon as I walk home I am swarmed by a crew of 4-15 year olds ready to play. Every day the kids run and hug me, they teach me Setswana, and we run around for a couple hours before it gets dark. The days blend together, but every day has its highlight- my secondary school friends jogging with me, the 4-year-old who is learning not to call me “lekgoa” (white person), but to use my Tswana name, Rea, and sometimes it’s chatting with my host grandma or watching South African soap operas like”Skeem Sam”. Every day there is some new adventure, but I am adjusting and loving life!