I got called Chinese today (this was last Monday), on my walk home from school, by an abuti carrying a bag on the end of a stick, hobo style. It went like this:

Abuti (brother): Good morning Chinese! (big, toothy grin; it was 4 p.m.)

Me: (pause) Ha ke Chinese! (fake indignation) Ke Ausi Thato. (big, toothy grin back at him)

(translation: I am not Chinese! I am sister/Miss Thato)

I have lived here for one year and nine months and this still startles me. One, because I assume most people in the area know who I am or have heard of me (as in, "Oh, the one who lives with M'e so-and-so. Yes, I've heard of her") and know that I am not Chinese. Two, because I think it is pretty difficult to mistake me for a Chinese person.

My encounter, though, is telling of the Chinese influence here in Lesotho--a herdboy in a rural, mountain village sees a light-skinned person and assumes that she is Chinese.

I feel like I have a lot in common with many of the Chinese ex-pats living in Lesotho. They leave their families, their friends, their culture and comforts, and the comfort of their culture to live in a foreign place. In my village there is a family of three who run a grocery-esque shop.

The difference, though, is that most Chinese here have come looking for a business opportunity. They are not here as "free labour"; they are not working for a charity; they are not working for an NGO with goals like "development" and "sustainability." Considering that the fields in which most work are engineering and retail, I assume that their reasons for coming are for business and financial growth. Perhaps they are motivated by issues like world peace, altruism, making a difference, HIV prevention (I have never asked, but I probably should). And, maybe they are just going about tackling them in a circuitous way.

It is an interesting idea. Maybe they are on to something.

Attempting to update a bit from the last few months!

May 25 is African Heroes Day in Lesotho; a public holiday allowing the schools to close.

A neighboring volunteer, Erica, and I planned a special Girls' Club Day for our 19 dedicated members on the holiday this year.

The girls put the finishing touches on "ME" books they had been working on all semester/ The self-esteem-building books contained pages about themselves, their families and friends, dreams they had for their futures, etc. They listened to music, danced, did a self-awareness activity, ate popcorn and watched a women's empowerment-themed movie.

I don't know what commercials or promotions were shown in the states, or elsewhere around the world, this past month, but you couldn't turn on a TV set here without hearing K'naan's "Wavin' Flag" anthem.

The build up for the games had been happening for so long, businesses shut down when Bafana Bafana matches were on, my school let out a week early so that teachers could finish marking exams before the opening cermonies; and now that it's over, getting back to the daily grind just isn't as exciting when there isn't a 4 o'clock match to catch.

Being in Lesotho and South Africa for the World Cup was everything one could expect. The game I went to was insane (Nigeria vs. Greece), I caught a night game in an outdoor square in Pretoria because I missed my overnight bus to Maputo (insane and awesome), and everyday on vacation I would come off of the beach at 4 to watch that match, shower and cook dinner and then watch the 8:30 game. It was perfect!! Here's to Brazil in 4 years!!

I realized that my library photos might need some explanation.

One of my secondary projects here has been setting up a library at my high school. I am the third volunteer at my site and there were sacks of books sitting in our secretary's office (the first volunteer had them shipped from the states, I was told). What we didn't have, when I arrived, was a space for the books where students could easily access them.

At the end of last year two extra classrooms were finished (the building structures had been there for a while but they were still missing floors, doors and windows) and my principal allocated one of the classrooms to me to set up the library.

Since the beginning of this school year I've been working on getting it functional. I painted a map of Lesotho in the room and had two other teachers paint the school's crest on the walls. I've been labeling and cataloging all of the books (I am almost finished; we have about 500 books!!) and I applied for a grant from Friends of Lesotho (a non-profit) to get shelves installed and my application was accepted! It covered just over half of the cost of the shelves and the school picked up rest!!

We have the materials for the shelves (my Form E students who also take wood shop cut the wood) and the wood shop teacher is installing them (we have access to a power drill and a generator for the electricity).

I will be holding a library workshop for the teachers at my school and then am planning to take individual classes in to show them how to borrow books; hopefully we'll have some kind of grand opening celebration! I will post updates when it's complete!

The previous and following pictures are of my library project! It's still underway, but the grant for the shelves came through (THANK YOU "Friends of Lesotho" organization) and they should be going up this week!

The Ministry of Magic, whoops, I mean Education, in Lesotho has in recent years put a push on teaching Life Skills in the schools. Topics include HIV education, self-esteem building, communication skills, career guidance, gender equality education, etc. (very important stuff that these students might not otherwise get at home). Some schools have it as a class once or twice a week, or, if they are like my school, they’ve ignored that “suggestion” and it’s not taught (or it is taught as part of other classes, not as a separate class itself). In relation to this, and possibly a driving factor as to why it is not emphasized at some schools, is the cultural awkwardness around subjects like puberty and sex. They are NOT talked about. Words like penis and vagina in Sesotho are VERY VERY taboo (it’s ok to say them in English, though), and the Basotho try by all means to avoid their Sesotho names (for instance, in Sesotho a penis might be called a lizard or snake and a woman’s vagina is called her “Lesotho”, which, in itself, is interesting). Last Friday I convinced two science teachers to let me combine their classes and teach them (just for 2 morning lessons, which they happily relinquished). I split up the girls and boys and had a male teacher go with the boys and myself and Erica, my neighboring volunteer, took the girls. We did a few activities, a condom demonstration and talked about some myths and misconceptions about pregnancy and periods, but once we got the ball rolling we mostly answered their questions. We had two “Question Cans” floating around the room so the girls could write down questions anonymously as they thought of them. We collected the cans with the slips of paper and tried our best to explain and answer their thoughts. The session went really well and we’re hoping to do it again soon! Here are some of the very telling questions they asked (I’ve changed some of their English phrasing, but tried to leave most of it as they wrote it): -Maybe a girl has menstruated and she finished after two days and she let another two days to pass, after that she makes sex. Is she going to be pregnant? -What will happen if you will not make sex all in your life? Am I going to suffer? (likewise: If I am a virgin girl, is it true that I will become ill?) -What will happen when a woman does not have a baby at all? -If a girl is menstruating and she makes sex with boy, but that boy uses a condom, is it true when they said that the blood will go into her vagina or what will happen with the girl? -What about if during menstruation I suffer from period pains, after some months I do sex without a condom, I am going to be pregnant? -We as girls we have a time that we menstruate but sometimes one or more months can skip you without being pregnant even when you test, so what makes that sort of sick to happen? -What shall happen if I have sex without condom but I am using contraceptives? -What about if I kiss my boyfriend, tongue kiss, I will be affected by AIDS or HIV? -What about if I kiss someone for 20 minutes, I will be affected by HIV/AIDS or not? -What if I can use a female condom two or six times, will I be pregnant? -When a girl and a boy make intercourse, a girl will know that she is pregnant how? Does a girl hear when the sperm are in her vagina? -How does the sperm cause HIV/AIDS? -Other girls have pain when they menstruate, what causes this? -What makes people to have menstruation twice in one month? -If I have sex without a condom but the next day I menstruate, what will happen?

Emmie and Ash arrive in less than 3 hours!

I've been planning their visit since June when they bought the tickets. It will be a whirlwind 2 weeks! We're heading up to my site tomorrow and then spending Christmas at Malealea Lodge.

Happy Holidays from the circle country :)

It’s getting close to Thanksgiving and I’ve begun thinking about what I am thankful for this year.

This was always the most stressful part of my turkey day celebrations. When I was young, I loved the dressing up part. Wearing a skirt and putting on colored tights meant being able to slide up and down the linoleum floor. Oh? You need that from the fridge, Mom? I got it! Two steps running, slide, bam! Right into the door. I could twirl, jump, do a split, run in place -- all with the ease of reduced friction.

Thanksgiving meant a cold can of coke from the garage; cheese and buttery crackers; carrots and spinach dip; nestling into the couch cushions and pretending to care about the game on TV. I always wished the Eagles were playing. I’d think about the supporters of the two teams and the families watching their sets. That must be so awesome, I thought, if it was your team.

By the time dinner was called I’d be on a corn-syrup high and full from too many cheese doodles. I’d slide into my seat and wait for dessert, hoping Mom wouldn’t notice if I didn’t take the green beans and that we’d skip the part about for what we were each thankful.

On both fronts, no such luck.

Be creative, I’d tell myself. Think of something good. Be different. Family? No, too overplayed. Friends? No, none of these people know my friends. The dog? No…really? Did I just think of the dog? Think. Come on. Think. Aw, that was a good one Uncle Mike. Think, come on.

By the time it got around to me (somehow I always ducked out of going first) I’d mumble some humms and something like family and friends and a smart line about pumpkin pie. Nothing brilliant, nothing really meaningful. My face would be red because I was always nervous to be put on the spot with nothing, really, to say. Then I’d take a big gulp of my sophisticated sparkling grape juice and put it out of my mind.

Maybe it is a part of getting older; maybe it is Africa; be simple. This year I am already thinking about what I will say…

I am thankful for having memories about sliding in tights and drinking sparkling grape juice. I am thankful for the people in my life with whom I’ve shared those memories and for the people who made them happen. I am thankful for supportive family and supportive friends, oceans away as they are. I am thankful for the opportunities I have chosen to act on and for having the courage to do so.

I am thankful for books, dark chocolate and red wine. I am thankful for my students and for the challenges and joys they give me. I am thankful to be HIV negative. I am thankful for clean water. I am thankful for my ipod, for letters and photographs; for March Madness, warm bread and fresh coffee.

I am thankful for being an American and getting to celebrate Thanksgiving. I am thankful for life.

Below are photos from Lesotho's Independence holidays. We had 3rd quarter exams and then got a week break. After the painting project, I went to the Morijia Arts and Cultural festival for a jazz night and up to Katse Dam with some friends.

Waiting for a ride...

Below are photos of the painting project that I did at my school. We painted two maps of Africa in two classrooms! I had students help out with mixing the paint (my friend Nicole taught them about mixing primary colors to get secondary/teritary ones) and painting the ocean. I still have a ton of paint left over so I'm going to do some more maps and maybe a periodic table or two (hopefully something in each room). The maps look great and they really brighten up the room!

Below are photographs of my school campus!

I'm in Maseru this weekend and next weekend for committee meetings (Classroom Management and World Wise Schools). We're working on putting together workshops for Basotho teachers to try to counteract the corporal punishment that is rampantly used over here and we're updating the wiki with teaching resources.

The previous two posts are photos of a teacher at my school and the Form C1 class. They show a typical classroom setting!

The pictures below are of me hanging around my house.

There's a group of kids who come over to color every now and then (the ringleader is my M'e's granddaughter, Mponyane).

I'm holding my M'e's adorable Ewok (spelling?) of a puppy.

The likhomo (cows) were let loose in the garden (in Lesotho we have cows to worry about, not rabbits!)

Our first day back to school was Tuesday, 4 Aug. I was sitting outside in the morning between “classes” (I put that in quotes because our first week back is spent cleaning out the classrooms, handing back exam scripts and wasting time. Only about half of the students show up, but it’s a catch-22 in a way because the students don’t come because they know they won’t be doing much and we don’t do much because there are so many students missing) and I noticed a rooster sprinting up the drive to the school. When he got close to the grounds he slowed down to a strut, ruffling his feathers and looking quite calm. He had a mischievous gleam in his eye, though, and sure enough a few seconds later an ntate comes running up the drive in pursuit of the runaway rooster. When he got close the rooster sprinted off again up towards the kitchen, down near the volleyball pitch and then further down to the boarding building. I watched the ntate creep around the side of the building, peeking his head first, then chasing him, to no avail. He then tried throwing rocks at the rooster in an attempt to herd it back in the direction they’d come. This proved to be successful and they both sprinted off down the drive they way they’d come. It provided some mild entertainment for this audience (me), brief as it was. T.I.A.

On 3 August the opposition party in Lesotho organized a work “Stay Away.” I do not usually get involved in politics, this being no exception, but I thought I would comment briefly about the event in light of its effect on me. That is to say, what it brought to my attention. It is easy to forget that I am not living in a stable country. In my mountain village, six hours from the capital, I could hardly expect riots and burning taxis (things seen in the past in the metropolitan areas), but the buzz of the work “Stay Away” did cause some excitement, and, at the very least, talk.

Tensions arose last year when a number of seats in Lesotho’s Parliament went to the ruling party. The opposition party held the view that the results of last year’s elections were swayed (or fabricated) in the ruling party’s favor. They organized the “Stay Away” last year and this year to show their dissent, though last year’s was much more widely supported.

As volunteers here we were put on high alert and given regular updates throughout the day. Kudos to Peace Corps on that; I really did feel informed.

A lot of the taxi associations are connected with the opposition party (thus supposedly participating in the “Stay Away”) which would make it difficult for people to get to work in Maseru since the majority of people use the taxis for transport. This year not much came of the demonstration; most people still made it to work and there was no violence or major road blocks.

What was most notable, to me, was the political activism and potential for public disturbance. In the US the biggest riots, in my experience and in my lifetime, came when the Steelers won the Super bowl, and that was celebratory rioting. Things did get out of hand in the moment, but people knew they would still be going to the office the next day (probably wearing their jersey). The uncertainty of a political riot and the instability that could create in the country is a much different way of disturbing the peace, and, in this case I am happy for the lack of action.

Took these awhile ago while I was visiting my friend Kaitlin's site in Mohale's Hoek district. But, yea, this is how I carry water from the pump at my site as well!

Attempting to load some pictures from my site when it snowed a few weeks ago. These are taken from the cozy comfort of my ronduvel of my surrouding area.

I'm (hopefully!) heading back up to site tomorrow. School, and the second semester, begins on Monday. I've been on vacation and in Maseru for too long!

A Philadelphia Inquirer article written by Carolyn Davis about Peace Corps volunteers who are blogging.

Being a quarter of the way into our winter holiday from school, many of us Lesotho volunteers are locking up our vacation travel plans, myself included. The vacation shtick with the PC is that one accumulates two vacation days per month since swearing-in. You can save these days up and cash them in for a big trip, a get-away weekend, whatever; it’s up to your discretion as long as it’s approved by your APCD and CD. Since we’re willing to live on another continent, many of us have already established our propensity for travel. In my experience, here’s what “travel” means in Lesotho:

To get to Maseru, the capital city, I try to leave my site as early as possible (daybreak if I can). I wait at my village’s bus stop, which is right on the main southern tar road (a huge plus for my site location). I hop on whatever comes along first—a taxi, a sprinter, a bus, a friendly motorist heading in that direction.

“Taxis” in Lesotho are 15-passenger vans, usually white, that squeeze in as much as will fit, ranging from adults, children, babies tied to backs, sacks of potatoes, maize meal, oranges, high chairs, stereo equipment, chicken, you get the idea. My highest count has been 23 bodies. Usually the taxis have a tricked-out sound system, and although they might need to be pushed backwards in neutral in order to start (like a wind-up car), you’re pretty much guaranteed some tunes for your ride.

“Sprinters” are 35-passenger vans, usually in a little better shape than the decrepit-but-functional (maybe) taxis (on a side note, I have to hand it to the taxi drivers. They’re creative as hell in getting their taxis working and in order. There might be a screwdriver stuck in the window to keep the window up; a side mirror taped on; a golf ball stuck on the gear shift; the sliding door might only be opened from the outside handle. They assess the problem and they fix it with whatever is around. I applaud their ingenuity every time). The same “passenger” rules apply to Sprinters as to taxis, but Sprinters generally go longer distances and stop less often, so it’s mostly people and suitcases along for the ride.

“Buses” are equivalent in size to Greyhounds or touring buses in the states. They’re big and slow, but the most comfortable to ride, if you get a seat, and if you’re bringing your goat along you can store him in the luggage compartments underneath.

If I get a taxi from my village, I’m guaranteed to have to switch transport at my camptown, Moyeni (Quthing), a two-hour ride away. If I’m lucky that day, I can catch a Sprinter all the way to Maseru. In Lesotho public transport doesn’t run on a schedule. When the taxi or van fills up it leaves (sometimes stopping for gas first), whether it takes 15 minutes to fill up or 3 hours. If I’m not lucky that day, I’ll take a taxi to Mohale’s Hoek, the next camptown over, switch taxis again for Mafeteng and in Mafeteng switch a final time for Maseru.

Ride-time it takes about five hours from my site to the capital city; factor in wait-time and it’s anywhere from six to nine hours. It is very much a “hurry-up to wait” experience.

The List

A lot of friends and family have asked or have been asking, “What do you need? What can we send?” I’ve been reluctant to tap into the great resource that you are partly because I really want the things I do during my time here to be sustainable after I am gone and partly because I’ve been waiting for a bigger or better project to present itself and I didn’t want to exhaust my resources too early. I thought I might mention the projects that I am currently working on to give you guys a picture of what I am doing over here (besides teaching).

Projects:

-Painting at my school. I applied for an FOL (Friends of Lesotho) grant to paint a large world map on the side of one of our school buildings and to paint a few things inside of the classrooms (a map of Africa, a Periodic Table, encouraging phrases, etc.). If the grant comes through I will receive the money in September and then can begin painting. I have a group of students eager to help out so it should turn into a fun weekend!

-Radio and/or TV drama. A group of students, who call themselves “Rocking Destinations,” put together a drama about human rights issues, particularly the right to education, and filmed it with one of the student’s cameras. I’m working on helping them get funding (from a grant or an NGO) to edit it and possible produce it for the radio, TV or DVD distribution around the country. Radio Lesotho and TV Lesotho are pretty popular here (a lot of people tune into Radio Lesotho for the programs) and the people seem to really enjoy the dramas.

-A novel. I teach forms A and B English, which includes literature (they are somewhat like middle school/freshmen high schoolers). My students seem hungry for more books. Our school’s library (still non-existant at the moment, but we’re working on that) will have books that were send over a few years ago with another volunteer. Most of them are great books—Dr. Seuss, Huck Finn, etc.—but they’re not exactly relatable to the average Basotho teenager. My plan is to write a short novel (or novella) about a Mosotho and to hopefully get a grant to have it published, printed and distributed throughout the country (with volunteers to stock in their libraries at the very least).

These are my current projects. They might not work out at all, they may take my entire service to come to fruition, or I might be able to get them finished by the spring (the fall for your northern hemisphere folk)—high hopes, I know!

Here, also, is a list of a few things that would be useful for me in the classroom:

-pencils and stickers with encouraging phrases, like Good Job! Star Student! Etc.

-erasers (we call them rubbers over here, I give these, as well as the pencils, out as prizes and rewards. The ones that people have sent over have been amazing!)

-colored chalk

-a hand stress ball (for classroom activities)

Nights in a Ronduvel When I was growing up having the power go out was a novelty. We’d get one of those heady August thunderstorms or late January ice storms and we’d lose power for 20 minutes, an hour, maybe two. The candles and flashlights would come out, we wouldn’t be allowed to open the fridge (the desire for a glass of juice or a slice of cheese suddenly being realized) and we’d sit trying to decide what to do. Play cards? A board game? They all seemed so exciting by candlelight. The power would usually come back on with a flicker and a click-hum; the refrigerator turning back on before we could decide anything and that craving for cheese soon forgotten. Living in a ronduvel without electricity is nothing like this. What’s your typical night like? Take away checking your e-mail, chatting online or looking something up on Wikipedia. Take away primetime TV; The Office, Scrubs reruns, or, your guilty pleasure, Project Runway. Take away central heating. Instead, strike a match, light that paraffin lamp, wrap up in a blanket and, as the evening light wanes, explore the possibilities. Books are top on my list, as are things involving books—writing one, looking up words in one (a dictionary) while making a crossword puzzle, reading up on vacation destinations, writing in my journal. Letter writing is up there as well, along with doodling and drawing and shaping things out of candle wax. There are usually dishes to be washed; the soft dome of light creating the perfect excuse for missing that smudge of soup residue on the pot (“I just couldn’t see it”). Podcasts are awesome to listen to while washing. Then there are the physical activities—yoga, something I like to call “ronduvel aerobics” which involves a lot of kicks, jumping and Richard Simmons-esque twisting moves, dancing—these being a necessary prerequisite to bathing during the cold months. The list goes on, and I am sure that the longer I am here the more diverse it will become.

N.B. Not all of my nights are like this, I do do school work and work on projects. This is just a sampling of what life is like on down nights.

I forgot that I hadn't posted a picture of my dwelling. It's quite spacious inside, I have a nice tile floor, the thatch roof is a good insulator (I hardly hear the rain and it keeps it warmer than the tin roof houses), and I get nice afternoon light. Behind my house is the hill I walk up to get water--manuevering between the cows that are staked in to graze. I'm getting pretty good at carrying the water on my head. I was hauling it by hand for a while and then one day decided to try the head-method...sooo much easier. I didn't realize how much I was straining my back until I switched. Plus, I look much cooler. :)

My kids and I at an AIDS day event where they performed a drama for the crowd; kids and I at a Diversity Camp that volunteers in my district hosted and a gorgeous rainbow :)

The girls lined up (above) and the girls take off (below). I should explain, all of my students have shaved heads (it's part of the uniform and to maintain head lice...I think...?). It was a little hard to get used to at first (telling girls from boys), but def not a problem now. It's something you get used to.

Boys lined up (above) and off (below).

Went to a sweat lodge one weekend (which basically was a group of 6 of us camping and we build the sweat lodge ourselves). This was on the hike to our camp spot.

The push-up club the morning after.

More pictures from site! These are from my running road.

I will be back in the capital when this is posted. I haven’t gotten to the internet in quite a while so I have some updating to do!

I’ve been pretty busy at school the past few weeks. My students will begin writing their quarterly exams on Tuesday (in Lesotho students “write” exams and teachers “set” exams) and I had a bit of an experience setting them for the first time. Most teachers at my school set their exams by hand (written on paper) and then give them to the secretary to type up. I decided to type mine up myself to cut out the handwriting part and to help the secretary out. I’d made six diagrams between my two bio exams and I felt bad making her draw them out in Paint, plus they were pretty intricate and I wanted to make sure they were done accurately. I knew I wouldn’t see the final copy because I would be in Maseru by then for phase three training. So I spent most of Thursday this past week in the computer lab typing them up and making my diagrams.

Our school’s computer lab is connected to the principal’s and secretary’s offices and it is powered by a generator (a car battery) that they turn on and off as needed for classes and administration stuff. We have about 20 computers that the students use to practice typing skills, which is awesome because for some of them it’s their first time and only experience with a computer.

So anyway, Thursday I was type-type-typing away, I had finished my time-consuming diagrams and three of the four exams when the generator ran out of gasoline and shut down. Computers off. Black screen. No way to access my beautiful diagrams. I ended up having to handwrite them all anyway. T.I.A.

Thursday they let the students go a little after break (around 11:30) to “prepare themselves” for the following day’s event. Our Athletics (track and field) team was to compete on Friday at Quthing district’s qualifying meet. Athletes who placed 1st-3rd qualified to go to Maseru for the national competition.

I met up with other faculty members and about 80 students (runners and supporters) on Friday morning and we all loaded into 2 Sprinters (very large vans), the school truck and the principal’s truck and took off for Quthing’s public grounds. I wasn’t sure what to expect about the day (I hadn’t been to a track and field even since elementary school), would there be bathrooms? Would I be standing in the sun all day? Was the field as rocky and unlevel as ours? How many schools would be there? Was there a snack bar? I packed a bag complete with toilet paper, sunscreen, water, a jacket, a book and some money in case there were soft pretzels and Sweddish fish at the snack bar.

I arrived at the grounds around 10 a.m. with the other teachers (the students had gone ahead of us). The meet was supposed to begin at 9 a.m., but in typical Basotho fashion, things were still being organized, the students were just finishing their warm-ups, etc. I was happy to see that the field was rolled really flat and well-line (no lanes, but a thick white line going all the way around). There was a gorgeous soccer field in the middle and it made me want to go play. When our soccer team competes later on in the year we’ll play there!

The day proceeded like I’d expected—I used my sunscreen, I drank my water and as it got to be later on in the evening I put on my jacket. No snack bar, but there were bo-m’e here and there around the grounds selling drinks, fruit, chips, Russians (which are like hot dogs, I think, I haven’t been brave enough to try one yet), moquena (which are delicious fried balls of dough), guava ice and even some kind of ice-cream looking concoction. No soft pretzels, but overall just as good as a snack bar. They even had a really nice looking pavilion, complete with a beautiful thatch roof. The police were set up there, but people filled in to get out of the sun as the day went on.

Our students performed great. We had 12 who qualified for Maseru, which, after talking with some of the other teachers, was a lot and really good for us. They will compete this coming Saturday and since I’ll be in Maseru for training I’m hoping I’ll get a break to get over to the stadium to catch of few in their races. Since it’s a lot further than Quthing (the camptown in our district, only about 1.5 hours away, Maseru is about 5 or 6), we don’t send supporters unless they go on their own, so I’m sure if I showed up they’d appreciate it.

There are a few differences I noticed about the races. A decent number of runners never finish their race, particularly in the longer ones (1500m, 3000m, etc.). If they fell back far enough they just dropped out. After dropping the baton on the first handoff, our boys’ 4x100 team gave up. I was a bit disappointed in that. My favorite thing, though, is the cheering and celebration that goes on for the runners who do well. Students get in a circle and dance and sing cheer-songs to give them support, people go to the path and run along with the runners to push them on and when they finished some supporters will run out to the field and carry them off on their backs, skipping, singing and dancing all the way back to their team’s bench area. They really are supportive (of the winners at least) and it’s great to see. It’s a community-like celebration—so different from the individualistic one we do in the states. You might say, but baseball players rush the mound at the end of the world series, and hockey players rush the ice, and soccer hooligans cheer and scream the whole match etc.etc., but it’s different here, it’s just different. You can feel the community aspect. No one boos and the cheering is continual and PG (well, it feels PG, I have no idea what they’re singing).

I will post pictures later this week!!

Today is Moshoeshoe Day in Lesotho; a national holiday commemorating King Moshoeshoe, the country’s founder. If I have my history straight, King Moshoeshoe held strong at the mountain of Thaba Bosiu and eventually defeated the boers to solidify Lesotho’s borders.

For me it meant no school. Classes were cancelled and our school held its first field day. Mphaki Primary and Mopeli Secondary School (our closest neighboring high school) both came to watch and compete. Mphaki High School (my school) is pretty big, so we divided into teams (red, black, white, blue and grey) and the students competed in “athletics” (track and field) events. The sports master, who had organized the day, also threw in a sack race for the boys, a bottle race for the girls, where they had to race across the field with a bottle of water on their heads, and a 100 m dash for the faculty (not only did I participate, but I came in fourth!).

The students loved the events. I got some good video and pictures from the day. To cheer on the runners, the different teams would sing songs and dance in a circle chanting. I mentioned it before, the Basotho love to sing and they are really good at it. The cheering songs and circle dancing seems to be a cultural thing, not just for athletics, but for scouts, which is a club at school, and any other reason or excuse they can find. It’s great to see the enthusiam!

I had my first visitor this week to my ronduvel (besides people from the village). Another volunteer in my district who works with ECCD—pre-school and primary schools—needed to visit a few schools in my area so she came up the night before and visited the schools the next day. It was a great excuse, or reason, to clean my house a bit, and a random, middle-of-the-week visit is like getting a snow day when they were calling for rain—too good to be true!

She stopped in at my high school in her way out. I was in class at the time and my students were literally climbing on top of their desks to get a better look when they saw her walking up the road. Then, she came to my room and I stepped out for a minute to say hi (the students were, supposedly, working on an exercise). I came back in to excited faces, so I explained that she was my friend and that she worked with the ECCD and was in the area for the day, etc. and they literally started clapped and cheered for me when I mentioned the word, “friend”. It was both extremely amusing and very endearing. They were so happy for me, to learn that I had a friend. It was really quite sweet.

(Note: this was written on 11-Mar-09)

I am (maybe) posting some pictures of students at school and depending on the speed of the internet connection, may try to get a video or two up.

These photos are from our morning assembly. We don’t have a loud speaker hear to announce the day’s news, call bus numbers in the afternoon or report on the outcome of yesterday’s athletics meet (track). We have an assembly in the morning and afternoon where the students sing, pray and then make announcements. They line up in rows according to their class and the school prefect leads everyone through the meeting. I am typing this on my laptop in our school’s science lab and a pigeon just appeared on the rafter in the corner. I have no idea how it got in here. T.I.A. Anyway, each class takes turns leading the song; sometimes the choir (well, it’s not quite a choir, it’s just a group of older boys who like to sing) performs and reads something from the Bible (if the video uploads you will see this! They are very good!). Our school doesn’t have an assembly hall like so others do, so we hold the gathering outside, weather permitting. You’ll notice the fields in the background, particularly the sunflowers that have risen to be quite tall. It’s not a bad setting for a school. The rest of the mountains are off to the right (North).

This story I first heard from a fellow PCV back in Maseru when I was training. I recently heard it again from someone at my high school; the quaint hamlet of Mphaki being a full six hours from the big city by taxi, giving testament as to how small the country really is. The two versions varied a big but no doubt they were talking of the same man. Neither teller was certain of the man’s name, but they were both certain of his fate.

The man, you see, had been caught stealing a great sum of money, so the one story goes. The judge in the courts decided to make an example out of him, and he dealt the thief a harsh blow. The man was sentenced to stand outside of a certain building in the city for 10 years.

The other version had a bit more cultural flair. In this story the man had done some bad deed and the sangoma (medicine man or woman of a village) had bewitched him. He was cursed to stand all day outside of a building in the city. If you go by there you’ll see him, they say. He is not to the left or to the right, he stands in exactly the same spot every day.

Both versions have their shock value (a bewitchment or a pretty harsh punishment, I don’t know which I would prefer), but it got me thinking about religion in Lesotho. Traditionally the Basotho believed in the power of ancestral spirits. Your house, your fields, your cattle. They are all affected; there are good actions and bad. Women didn’t take care of the animals, that was the men’s responsibility—not because of an archaic dichotomy between men’s and women’s roles, though there was one, but because they believed that when a woman menstruated she gave off bad vibes and the animals would pick these up. So the dichotomy was based on beliefs. There was an explanation, a deeply held religious and cultural reason for why things were.

When the missionaries came in the 1800s (I believe that’s when they first arrived, but I’m not positive) they established churches and missions, wrote down the language of the people and converted many. The main religion of the country today is Christian, that being divided amongst many denominations—Anglican, Evangelican, Catholic, etc. (the high school where I teach was founded in 1986 by the Lesotho Evangelican Church). The church services on Sundays are as much as social gathering as they are a religious one (similar to how they can be in the states as well). People will ask you your religious affiliation (phrased more like, “Are you a Christian?”) and will size you up by your answer. Religion is one of those starred-off topics in the US that people dance around. When I worked at Pitt’s newspaper we had to run every article dealing with religion, gay rights, the Middle East, and a laundry list of topics, by the editor-in-chief just to cover our asses so we weren’t sending something libelous to print. Here, they ask you about it straight up. They will tell you they are Christian and then they’ll tell you not to step over a cow’s rope when it is staked into the ground for grazing and they’ll recount the story of the bewitched man in Maseru, fated to stand against a building all day. It is a mix of the old and the new. A hodgepodge of harmonies that praise Jesus, hope for good rain and thank families for sending their sons to initiation school. I am making sure to walk around the cows and I will respect my sangoma when I meet him.

This story I first heard from a fellow PCV back in Maseru when I was training. I recently heard it again from someone at my high school; the quaint hamlet of Mphaki being a full six hours from the big city by taxi, giving testament as to how small the country really is. The two versions varied a big but no doubt they were talking of the same man. Neither teller was certain of the man’s name, but they were both certain of his fate.

The man, you see, had been caught stealing a great sum of money, so the one story goes. The judge in the courts decided to make an example out of him, and he dealt the thief a harsh blow. The man was sentenced to stand outside of a certain building in the city for 10 years.

The other version had a bit more cultural flair. In this story the man had done some bad deed and the sangoma (medicine man or woman of a village) had bewitched him. He was cursed to stand all day outside of a building in the city. If you go by there you’ll see him, they say. He is not to the left or to the right, he stands in exactly the same spot every day.

Both versions have their shock value (a bewitchment or a pretty harsh punishment, I don’t know which I would prefer), but it got me thinking about religion in Lesotho. Traditionally the Basotho believed in the power of ancestral spirits. Your house, your fields, your cattle. They are all affected; there are good actions and bad. Women didn’t take care of the animals, that was the men’s responsibility—not because of an archaic dichotomy between men’s and women’s roles, though there was one, but because they believed that when a woman menstruated she gave off bad vibes and the animals would pick these up. So the dichotomy was based on beliefs. There was an explanation, a deeply held religious and cultural reason for why things were.

When the missionaries came in the 1800s (I believe that’s when they first arrived, but I’m not positive) they established churches and missions, wrote down the language of the people and converted many. The main religion of the country today is Christian, that being divided amongst many denominations—Anglican, Evangelican, Catholic, etc. (the high school where I teach was founded in 1986 by the Lesotho Evangelican Church). The church services on Sundays are as much as social gathering as they are a religious one (similar to how they can be in the states as well). People will ask you your religious affiliation (phrased more like, “Are you a Christian?”) and will size you up by your answer. Religion is one of those starred-off topics in the US that people dance around. When I worked at Pitt’s newspaper we had to run every article dealing with religion, gay rights, the Middle East, and a laundry list of topics, by the editor-in-chief just to cover our asses so we weren’t sending something libelous to print. Here, they ask you about it straight up. They will tell you they are Christian and then they’ll tell you not to step over a cow’s rope when it is staked into the ground for grazing and they’ll recount the story of the bewitched man in Maseru, fated to stand against a building all day. It is a mix of the old and the new. A hodgepodge of harmonies that praise Jesus, hope for good rain and thank families for sending their sons to initiation school. I am making sure to walk around the cows and I will respect my sangoma when I meet him.

I'll blog about Sesotho names a little bit later. I don't have much time online now. Site has been amazing! I'm getting into the swing of things with teaching...again, more on everything later!

I found out that I can get packages at my site (not just letters) and reasonably fast too, so I updated my mailing address here.

Here are some photos of my georgous site! I took a hike up to the small mountain behind my house and then to the larger one when I first moved here. I am now Ausi Thato. Sesotho names all have a literal meaning; Thato translates to beloved.

The One about Food

It’s been requested that I talk about some of the food here in Lesotho and about what I’ve been eating. I’m more than happy to oblige.

Two of the main traditional dishes are papa and moroho. Papa is maize meal and water cooked over the stove (or fire) until it gets puffy and sticky. It’s all starch and next to nothing in nutrition (but it fills the belly and is cheap, and it’s easy to eat with your hands). Moroho consists of cabbage that is finely chopped and cooked over the stove with oil and, sometimes, a bullion cube. I never thought I’d like cooked cabbage but it’s actually pretty tasty.

The Basotho also seem to like their side dish salads—potato salad, coleslaw (salad), tomato and bean (salad). Everything mixed with mayo seems to be called salad. Again, I was surprised to find that how tasty they could be! Nama (meat) is somewhat expensive, but easy enough to find. Chicken is boiled or barbequed and beef is put in a stew, stir fry or barbequed. For dessert, a fruit cup or a mixture of jello and pudding seems to be the norm. These dishes are what we were served in training or what you might be served if you ordered a “plate” somewhere (you don’t go out to a restaurant to get lunch or dinner, you get a “plate”).

The high school where I teach provides the students and teachers with a lunch every day. Generally (and by that I mean every day since I’ve been there), it’s papa and a vegetable. We’ve had moroho, peas, eggs with tomato and onion, potatoes in some kind of soup-like broth, and samp, which is some kind of bland corn dish. The veg dish changes from day to day and it usually isn’t too bad. They probably cook it in a lot of oil, but I try to ignore that. I usually pack something small and have a small bit of the veggie dish (I can’t help it, it’s free food!).

As for things I can get in my village—we have four small shops that sell a variety of things. I’m lucky enough to have a Fraiser’s, which is a small chain store found all over the country. I say I’m “lucky” enough because they generally have more than the other small shops (for instance, they sell tuna, which can be hard to find at the little guys’). I shop around a bit amongst the four to find the freshest fruits and veggies. Right now I can usually find apples, tomatoes and onions and depending on the day: peppers, peaches, potatoes and plums (wow, p-city). That’s pretty much been the selection, oh and occasionally I can get carrots, so I’m trying to be creative with the concoctions I come up with. I’ve made a lot of soup. I have the feeling I’ll probably eat a lot of soup in the next two years (it’s warm, you can throw pretty much anything in there, and it tastes different every time). I haven’t eaten meat at all at site yet (unless you count tuna). I’m a little nervous to buy chicken or beef from the local stores, but I may try it eventually. I try to keep up the protein with beans, nuts, grains and eggs. There’s a lentil burger recipe in the Peace Corps Lesotho cookbook that I might try next week; it sounds pretty good!

I’ve planted some herbs in a pot outside of my house and I can not wait until they’re big enough to use; they’ve only just sprouted. I can already taste the fresh basil! I’m just hoping the cows and chickens that roam free in the neighborhood don’t get to them. My M’e said I could have a little plot in her garden so I’m planning to pick up some seeds this weekend and get to work! The garden is barb-wired in and the animals seem to stay out of it. My plan is to get some good stuff growing so I’ll have more of a variety to cook with (and also it’ll keep my food budget down and I can save up for traveling!).

South Africa is so close that Lesotho imports a lot of their packaged food (like peanut butter, cereal, pasta, tuna, chocolate, even Heinz ketcup!) and a lot of stuff is similar to what is in the US. My diet is definitely different here, but not drastically now that I’m at site and cooking for myself.

A few differences: They don’t have fresh milk here, only powdered or “long life” which is literally named for its long shelf-life. That’s been just fine because I don’t have electricity, let alone a refrigerator, so I wouldn’t be buying it anyway. One thing that I’ve been craving, oddly enough because I didn’t drink it too often at home (besides cheese, but that’s just a given), is real coffee and expresso. They only have instant here and, though it’s coffee-like, it’s definitely not the same. I’ve heard I can get a French press in Maseru and real coffee in South Africa, so I’ll have to just wait it out.

Holy cow, that’s a lot on food.

I realized after reading my friend Nicole's blog that I didn't have a map of Lesotho up; here one is! I will be living in Quthing, close to the borders of Qacha's Nek and South Africa.

A little recap of how the end of training is going--We had our language assessment this past weekend; everyone in our training group passed! I got intermediate middle, which I am very happy with, tons of room to improve but above the bottom. We wrapped up administrative info yesterday and today we spend most of the day shopping for things for our sites (since every site is in different condition, people needs different stuff to furnish the sites, makes repairs, etc., like the piece of wood for my pit latrine and blankets for the bed). Tomorrow we have a workshop with our Basotho supervisors (mine is the principal of the high school) and then Thursday we swear-in! The schedule has really wound down this past week or two, mostly because of the breaks for the holidays and because we're just typing up loose ends, but it's given us a chance to hang out and bond more as a group for the last time before we head out to our sites.

Hopefully I'll be able to post some more pics before I leave on Saturday!

Some old pictures from when we first arrived, Christmas, living in the village and the field trip!

">Happiness is a snotty-faced girl. She stalks me in the afternoons, chasing me down the road, yelling, “U mang?! U mang?!” Pointing a snotty-caked finger, zing, right at my chest. I slow down and answer, Nthabeleng. Emphasize the ending, a huff of playful frustration. I’m caught. She knows my name, but she likes the game. Nthabeleng, she repeats, as if hearing it for the first time. She raises her hand swiftly and moves it in the direction of mine, showing what she wants. I oblige and she smacks it, high-five, with the stark aggression of an orphaned child. It takes a village, they say. In her case, it must. We did this routine every day at the training village in Ha Mofoka. I’ve moved on to my new village now and I’m waiting for my new Happiness to pop out from around a corner and chase me down. My site is incredible. When we got our site announcements, Ntate Clement, the education volunteer director said to me, “See you in two years,” and he wasn’t kidding. I’m nestled into the mountains in the south, with nothing, literally, nothing, but luscious green, green mountains in every direction. I am about 5 hours (I think) from Maseru (the capital city), on a good day. The village I live in, Mphaki, is actually pretty big and the high school has close to 400 students (100 of which board there). There’s a woodshop, a computer lab and a science lab (no library; however…) From my house, it’s about a 25 minute walk. I live in my own ronduvel (circular hut with a thatched roof) that is ridiculously spacious. I couldn’t ask for more. I’m going to try to post some pictures that I took of it, but I just moved in so it’s looking pretty sparse (i.e. nothing on the walls, I’m still sleeping in my sleeping bag on my bed because I don’t have a blanket/comforter yet, etc.) I don’t have electricity or running water. I fetch water when I need it at the pump that is just up the hill behind my place (luckily it’s uphill on the way up, when the bucket is empty!). I cook with a gas stove and I light the place at night with candles and a paraffin lamp (…candle-lit yoga, it’s a great thing). I take a bucket bath in the morning with a huge basin and a smaller bucket, and I have my very own pit latrine (separate from the one for my family). Come to think of it, I need to get a piece of wood for the floor of that. There are two planks of wood on the floor and one broke right before the girl before me left (so she didn’t bother to fix it). I’ve been doing a balancing act to keep from breaking anything else further, or, at worst, falling in, so I’ll have to get that fixed asap when I get back. My family lives right next to me in a more modern style house (it’s much larger and rectangular, and no thatched roof). I’m not sure who all lives there yet because there have been people in and out the three days I’ve been here. My Me is the principal of the primary school and she owns a clothing shop, a hardware shop, a general shop and a joaleng (bar), in town. She has two sons who are both college-aged. One is at university in Durban and I’m not sure what the other does, but I think they’ve just been visiting for the holidays. There are a bunch of kids running around the hills and houses here, so hopefully they can help me with my Sesotho (usually the kids are the most patient). I am back in Maseru now (I wrote the above a day or so ago). We had a few training sessions today then we’re off for the holiday!! I baked two cakes last night for my birthday and I’m waiting to share them with everyone tonight after dinner. The kitchen staff was really nice and let me use their baking pans and oven. We’re planning some New Year’s festivities for tonight!! HAPPY EARLY NEW YEAR!!!!!!!!!!