I have been taking inventory of my belongings. My white shirts are now a light shade of brown, I have a single razor left to shave, which is fine because I gave it up for winter (more insulation and no one to impress), I now have 1 metal fork and 1 plastic fork that I need to throw away but just can’t yet (yes I still eat with it). All of my shirts are at least 3 inches longer than when I got here because of hanging everything up to dry. I am pretty sure a couple of them could be used as short dresses, my skirts and shirts all have holes and repaired holes, and I am pretty sure my hair is thinning (it is a belonging) due to lack of protein, since I rarely eat meat. I now eat at the sketchy street venders that I used to swear I would never go too. I crave roasted maize sold on in the stink filled alleys of the taxi rank, and have been known to drink unboiled water (not good I know). I find myself singing the Lesotho National Anthem at random times, I have a hard time with Afrikaners due to their history and how they still treat the blacks, and have adopted the Basotho walk (very slow). I can sit and do nothing for an hour or two and be perfectly happy, and wonder how I am going to get back into the fast paced world of America again. I think nothing of traveling for 4 hours to get somewhere and am pretty much sure I will never get used to the oral stench of some peoples mouths but am used to being crammed in the back of a taxi with my body parts intertwined with my seat mates. Today I went to the local shop to buy some milk and got hugged and hung on by a drunken Ntate and was able to handle it just fine. I got him off me of course but was able to do so without freaking out. I climb the palmagranite tree at my house and eat the seeds with the twins while watching my abuti cut wood for the evening fires. Sometimes I go into the main house and roast maize on the fire with the family and we watch horrible Lesotho television. I twins now know to come to my house if they are hungry and I always have fruit for them to eat. I found small bugs crawling in my dried samp the other day and did not throw it away because I am still contemplating eating it in the future (cooking will kill the bugs right?). I do not even think about it when I de-tick the dogs and can even do it without tweezers (I’ve come a long way from the first tick that exploded in my face when I tried to remove it). My boss from Maseru was visiting and needed his shoes fixed and I knew which Ntate on the side of the road could fix them and how much it would cost. I have no problem re-sewing the seams of the hiking boots every few months with dental floss when they start to wear out and would rather do that then but a new pair. I do wish I could remember enough to compare how I am now to how I was a year ago. In June a new set of CHED volunteers will be arriving in Lesotho. I will be hosting a couple of them for a few days so they can experience current PCV life (as exciting as it is). It will be interesting to see how they perceive things.

Kids playing memory eating dinner burning trash

I had a site visit from the APCD and it actually went great. I was able to report that I had done something in my project and my counterpart’s only complaint about me is that I talk too much. He says that I talk when I am not suppose to and too often. OK, so I will be working on that in the future, not sure when it is inappropriate to talk, maybe when there are men around, not sure but will work on it. My counterpart also has taken away my door shutting privileges when I ride in his car. Apparently I am too rough with the car and can no longer be trusted to shut the door on my own. He has given me several lessons on how to shut a car door (I guess I never learned in the 15 years I have been driving) but I have failed to adopt his technique so the door is now opened and shut for me as if I am incapable of handling the advanced technology.

I learned that my family had a cat last year. It was black and white and was apparently killed and hung by the rope of the church bell. Needless to say I am now worried about Poop Johnny since she is a black calico. The rural villages see black cats as bad omens and believe they have evil spirits. One of the other PCVs just let her black cat out for the first time last month and that night it was beat to death by her neighbors. They were nice enough to show her where it was the next day. Another volunteer cannot let his cat out of the house because it is black. So I have told my family that if my cats are ever killed and hung anywhere I do not want to see them, just let me know they are dead and bury them for me. It was hard enough seeing a dead puppy hanging in a bush, I cannot handle my own cat. My counterpart did inform me that he thinks my male cat is fat and beautiful and that he will not eat it. He does not like cat meat (totally serious). I did see a villager the other day wearing a cat hat. Literally a hat made out of a cat hide. When there is a lack of wild animals; because you kill them all, I guess you use domestic.

They are showing activities for South Africa and one of them is a Maize Maze. I thought it was hilarious that the corn mazes we have in the US are maize mazes here.

I am not sure if I ever really explained what I am doing as a project at my new site. I am working with Masitise Cave House Museum and Nature Preserve. The goal of the project is to make the cave house financially self sustainable. Currently it is receiving grants from the government and is working at a very small scale, due to the lack of funding. We are working to improve the facilities, add more tourist activities, and educate the people on the history of the area. Right now we offer a tour of the cave house and have a small selection of books for sale. What we are going to add is a craft shop with local crafts, a picnicking area, hiking trails, camping facilities, bed and breakfast facilities, guided tours of points of interest in the area, and pony trekking. Big ambitions but slow process. Right now we are working on the proposal to the church (who owns the land and buildings) to turn an existing building into a bed and breakfast. It will be their project but benefit us all and we will do the marketing. I am working to map and clear trails in the preserve so that people can hike and enjoy the scenery. We are writing a proposal to use part of the reserve for camping and picnicking and when those are accepted we will begin building picnic tables and braii (bbq) pits. We should be opening up the craft shop in the next couple weeks. Since we do not have the money to buy merchandise we are working with locals on consignment, so they are paid after the products sell and we get a small commission. I have created a tracking system for the store and a contract for merchandise. I was able to create a new brochure for the cave house as well as a blog (masitisecavehouse.blogspot.com), and got all of their finances in order for the last 2 years (that is how far records go back) and we now have a system in place to track progress or lack thereof. Day to day things are slow. I give tours and play a lot of spider solitaire. I have planned to start some side projects to keep busy especially in the winter and just found the perfect one. One of the ED volunteers in the camp town has no time or desire to create a chicken laying business for the school. So here I come. I am so excited. I get to start from scratch and work with the orphans at the high school to create an income generating business selling eggs. We get to build the coops, learn about chickens and their care (the size of their eggs does not depend on their age as the weavers in Berea believe, “baby chickens have little eggs and old chickens have big eggs”) I am so excited to work with chickens; and orphans too, of course. I took a chicken keeping class in at the community college before I came and now I get to put it to use. In my down time I am knitting hats and plan to give them to the orphans in the area.

So things are going well. All the volunteers that I have seen since I switched sites have commented on how much happier I am now. Time is flying by, in 2 weeks I will have been here for a year. Hard to believe, I will need to make plans for the next part of my life sooner rather than later.

I have decided to privatize my blog so that it does not offend anyone. It has been read by people in Lesotho and I am afraid that some of what I say could be misconstrued so...Anyone who wants to continue reading it needs to send me an email with your name and email address. I will then add everyone to the list to view the blog. I will probably do this in a few weeks so please email me at langridgejessica@gmail.com with your info and I will put you on the list, that way there will be no interruption in sharing my fabulous (not really) life in Africa.

I have to say as much as I love and depend on technology it sucks!!! I recently had a grand plan to buy a second external hard drive and fill it with all the movies that are floating around country. (Sidenote: as I am typing this my counterpart is sitting in the doorway staring at me. not at all uncomfortable...plus he is chewing on something and spitting ANNOYING) I had easily filled up a 250GB and bought a 640GB hard drive and had is brought over with another volunteers mother when she came to visit last month. It arrived and was beautiful so shiny and new ready to be filled with my lifeline "movies." I should say we have a system here in Lesotho where all the PVCs carry around their hard drives and we get movies from each other whenever we are visiting or on Maseru. I spend a few days transferring all of my movies, music, TV shows, to the new hard drive and then filled it up with another 200GB so my 250 hard drive was now empty and everything was on the new one. THEN DISASTER STRUCK...We have a bit of a problem with viruses here. Not so say they are any worse than in the US, for all I know they are the same. But my coveted new hard drive would not register when plugged into my computer. After trying everything I could think of I took it into the PC office to get some help. I word "DESTROYED" some virus destroyed the hard drive, not only was everything lost but it is completely useless and no longer usable. I am taking it's death rather poorly. I have been doing through all the stages of grief and right now am in the anger stage (passed denial yesterday). I have to start from scratch. I even lost all the movies I had purchased on Itunes. We PCVs usually compare our computers and equipment to the people in multiple concurrent relationships. They are hoers, using no protection and passing diseases to everyone else. Too bad there are not condoms for computers.

This weekend I was in charge of the Cave House while my counterpart was attending a 50th anniversary celebration of his high school in Mafeteng. On Saturday there was a wedding and apparently everyone just goes. I was not sure on the protocol and did not go cause I was not invited, but afterwards there were a lot of people wondering why I didn't go. now I know for next time. Anyway after the wedding ceremony the bride, groom, and all the guests went marching up to the cave house to take pictures. The trees and foliage are lovely and I could see why they would want to take outdoor pictures but then they paid the fee to go inside the museum and take pictures. It was interesting to say the least, afterwards I was locking the building back up and noticed that all the women that had been wearing high heals had managed to pole holes in the dung floor. Time to re-smear the floor... Weddings in Lesotho are a 2 day event. The ceremony is held at the church in the bride's community where where she was raised. There is a party at her house the evening after the ceremony and then another at the grooms home village. It was great to see some of the process but it was also sad in some ways knowing that most of the couples that marry will still have other partners.

I made makuenia yesterday night, used a whole bottle of oil to fry them and they did not taste as good as the ones the bo-me make. Waste of oil but I did it.My counterpart came home from the weekend away and asked if someone from the museum in Morija had stopped by to deliver more books. I said we had a visitor from the museum but he was attending the wedding and had no books. Ntate asked which man came and I said it was a different one from the one that came to the meeting. he said was he tall and black? Yes, I replied (We are talking about 50% of the population of Lesotho with this description), OK then he know who it was. Not so sure that would hold up in court but it gave me a nice little laugh.I have been on a knitting kick as of late and in the last week have created 6 hats. I still have enough yarn to make at least 20+ more so happy knitting to me for the long winter months.Tlotletsang walked 5 steps by himself without falling this weekend!!!! He also is able to walk with less assistance overall, he is recovering quicker that I thought possible from the accident. I expect him to be walking around alone by the end of May.

Today I thought I would tell you about all the excitement that people back in America feel I have in my life. So here we go day in the life... (yes this is an actual picture of me today, technology has come so far...) I woke up at 6am changed the alarm to 6:30am, went back to bed, woke up at 6:30am and changed the alarm to 7:00am, went back to bed, woke up at 7:00am and changed the alarm to 7:30am and went back to bed (I know you would think I would learn...). Got up at 7:30 put on water to boil for tea and went back to lay in bed. This is my normal morning routine, you would think that I would just set the alarm for later but no it feels like I am being more productive this way. When my water started to boil I got up made tea and sat at my table. Thrilling so far...Then I decided to eat a banana and found the one that was most pleasing to the eye and sat at the table again to eat. I said hello to my counterpart out my window as he was winding the extension cord to the office, and decided to get dressed. I decided to keep on the pants I wore to bed and just put a pair of jeans over them. With the addition of another 2 shirts, sweatshirt, scarf, and hat, I was dressed and ready to go. I brushed my teeth and used the mouth wash I have been hoarding. I put my gum boots on and was out the door for the long 40 ft. walk to the office. I got in and helped my counterpart write a letter to the Ministry of Forestry so that we could get assistance with a saw for the building of benches at the cave house. The letter was complete, printed, signed, and my counterpart pulled his car out of the garage to take the letter to the office. We found a pool of oil under his car so we checked it out and I suggested he get his car to the place that changed the oil yesterday and have them tighten the cap and replace the oil. I also told him to take some oil with him in case he needed to add some on the drive. I have a feeling he was not sure how to handle my knowledge of cars, when I reached for the oil stick to check the level he almost gasped. I know I'm incredibly smart...not many people know how to check oil levels. He left and I went to pet the puppies who got mud all over my pants and bit my face (teething) and then went back into the office to work for awhile on my Peace Corps quarterly report, got tired of that and switched to working on the proposal I am trying to write for the church to turn one of the buildings here into a Bed and Breakfast. Got tired of that and was cold so went home to make tea and lean over the burner for awhile (picture below), I then decided to make mac & cheese (from scratch) and read my book for awhile. I needed to wash clothes and took a few hours to do that as you can see from my socks hanging on the chair. I went back to the office around 2pm because I was expecting my old supervisor from SOS to come by. He was 45 minutes late and then we had to wait for the Director of SOS so I took him on a tour of the cave house and the area. It was the first time I have talked to him since moving to a new job and site and it was not too awkward. He wanted to meet with me and his new boss because he wanted me to still help with SOS. We talked for about 40 minutes and I am not sure what they actually want me to do (big surprise) but I said I would be happy to help in the future. So we will see where that goes. I then played with the boys (little brothers) for a few minutes and went home to figure out dinner. I really wanted makuenia today but I do not trust myself going to the store. I got off Coke this week to prove to everyone I could. Jessica and coke are considered inseparable by all other PCVs. I need to return two bottles to the store but am not feeling strong enough to go to the store without buying more coke. I am on day 4 so why tempt myself. I decided to make makuenia and made the dough and have it wrapped in a blanket in my closet as I type for it to rise. I concocted something out of cabbage, onion, garlic, and brown rice for dinner. Not sure what it will turn out as but I get to drink water with it, Joy! I will be eating dinner after I finish this blog, then I will cook makuenia, the sun set at 5:45ish and it is already dark. I will eat, clean up, and then de-robe and get into bed to read or watch another episode of Veronica Mars on my IPOD. As exciting as this may sound it was one of my slower days. Now as for tomorrow...anything is possible...

Today I needed some time away so I took a book and went up to sit on the rock cliff overlooking the cavehouse. Up the path I go with my reading glasses and book. I forgot it was a bit of a climb and ended up scaling part of the cliff to look around (all the time carrying the book). I barely missed a huge floresent yellow/black spider, and managed to bypass the herdboys in the area. I decided today was the day to climb the big rock, so I attempted and succeeded with little problem. I then decided to climb the rock on top of the rock and had to finagle abit to not fall off the side. Managed to successfully scale the rocks, and get down without falling to my death, and bypass an intense craving for a Costco hotdog. All of this in my gumboots. I then came home, ate scrambled eggs for dinner, drank 2 cups of tea, read a book (really into Michael Crichton right now) and am now sitting in bed under the covers with 2 shirts, a sweater, 2 pairs of pants, a scarf, and a hat on...Ready for bed.

I made pancakes from scratch for the first time, who knew I could follow a recipe. This just adds to the list of things I now make from scratch (guacamole, salsa, bread, tortillas, pasta sauce...). Not so shabby for a person with only two gas burners and no oven. Last night I had yet another visitor in the house. You would think I would get used to the rodents but I have learned a few things, mice are small and can hide easily but are easier to kill, make a smaller mess, and are overall less threatening than rats. Rats as I learned last night are not so easy to kill, are huge and have abnormally long tails, bite back which makes them a little more of a thrill kill, they can jump and are just plain disgusting. I watched as the team kill was moved in through my window at 4am. I intervened when I discovered the rat was still alive, and I am pretty sure I could win a prize for being ridiculous in an emergency. I was in leggings and a shirt, put my gum boots on turned on my light and also wore my headlamp strapped to my head for extra visibility and was running around my closet of a house with a broom, bucket, and two cats. At one point I had the rat pinned to the wall with the broom, all my weight was pressed on it and the cats were each attacking one end of the rat that was sticking out. I finally discovered I could pin it under the broom and slide it across the floor, which I did and got it out the front door. I had just enough time to close the window before it was brought back into the house. I feel unclean...Our Puppy is getting bigger by the day and I am pretty sure I am thought of as insane for willingly playing with her. BUT, everyone knows that Americans love their animals.

Winter is approaching, we have felt it for the last few days. I veighly remember being in training village and being cold and the constant rain. But somehow that did not seem too bad. It might have been that we all had an endless supply of gas for our heaters curtesy of the Peace Corps. I look to the future and wonder how I am going to get through the next few months. The cold is fine when you go outside, but when it is inescapable from the moment you wake up to the moment you go to sleep it is horrid. Not to mention the static cling that makes your hair look even worse in its thinning state. Already I am wearing several layers and it is not even the coldest months yet. If people had opinions on my bathing frequency before you do not even want to know the frequency in cold weather. I thought this was suppose to be Africa, the continent with extreme heat and animals, I am 0 for 2 at this point, send me to the one African country with mountains, snow, and no animals. Thank you Peace Corps for challenging all my perceptions of Africa.

On Friday I went to see my friend and fellow PCV, Erin in Mt. Moorosi. Not only does she live in the village with my absolutely favorite plate place (R15 for papa le marojo fela ) but she finally got the mural drawn on the wall of her youth center ready to paint. It was incredible. I came down for a couple days to lend a hand and it was amazing, the mural looks spectacular and the youth in the area came and helped paint. At one point I was reading to the little kids and they were playing with my hair and screaming over skeleton pictures (not a lot of books to look at) when I kept smelling something, I turned around to see that the little girl playing with my hair was not using her hands but the shoes of the toddler she was with. Pretty sure there was something that came out of the back end of a dog on those shoes. It ruined a perfectly good moment and the smell lingered into the evening. BUT... the mural is completed and Erin is doing an amazing job in Mt. Moorosi (her Sesotho is incredible, which is what you get when you work with youth). Had a great visit and fun working with the youth who posed for several random pictures.

Makuenia the snack of choice Reading to the kids My favorite plate in Lesotho

The owner of the hair combing shoes

Kids watching us paint. Boys pose w/ coke & cup as props. Not sure what is going on here.

Last week I heard one of the family horses running through the yard. They are not tied up but have thick chains around their necks that just drag on the ground and can be used if they need to be tied. This is normal for the most part but this day in particular the horse was especially irritable. The children stay out of the way of the horses but this particular day my little brother was not fast enough. The horse came straight for him and I am not sure if the horse or the chain hit him but he went down all the same. When we got to him he was unconscious and we could not wake him up. His eyes remained half open and he was not breathing well. Luckily my counterpart has a car so we were able to get him to the hospital as fast as possible (30 minutes later). On the drive to the hospital he would have fits then laps into unconsciousness again, he also started vomiting. At the hospital we got into a room and the nurse had to follow protocol which meant spend 3 minutes taking his temperature. Never mind all the other symptoms you have to start with the temperature. I finally had enough and expressed his inability to breath correctly and she sent in a doctor who immediately called for an ambulance. The family was not able to tell all the details and kept leaving the important symptoms out so I took over (which they were fine with) explaining everything to the doctors. They said that he had head trauma (knew that) and that he needed to be taken to Maseru to the hospital there to get an x-ray. He was vomiting, his eyes were dilated and he had several seizures by this time. By the time my Ntate phoned my 'Me and she got to the hospital they were ready to leave. They both rode in the ambulance to Maseru with Tlotletsang. He remained in the hospital for a week and came home 2 days ago. He woke up the evening of the accident and had no broken bones but his head was swollen. As time went on he improved with breathing but left side weakness became apparent. He is home but is no longer able to walk or sit on his own without support. His neck and are are also weak. The hospital gave no follow up instructions and it now falls to us as a family to create therapy and rehabilitate him. One day he is a happy 3 year old playing with his twin brother and the next he is no longer able to walk. I knew the medical system here in Lesotho was lacking but not to the extent it is. It takes a personal experience to see the truly dire situation most people face when they are injured. There is one hospital for each district. Quthing has no doctors outside of the hospital for the most part and you may have to travel hours to get to the hospital to get in line for care. If you do not have a car you have to take public. I cannot even imagine the situation if we had not had a car. Once we were in to see the doctor they could not locate medication needed to stop a seizure and it took 10 minutes to find it, during which time he continued to seiz. On the way home from the hospital with Tlotletsang's twin I told my counterpart that we needed to explain to him what was going on. He had just seen his brother hurt, watched the doctors at the hospital and watched his brother and parents get loaded into a car and drive away. He looked at the boy and said "Ausi he is fine right now he just needs mazimbaz (chips)" I adamantly explained that he needed to be told in his terms what was going on and before we left the car. The task got done but still not sure what was finally said to him (my Sesotho sucks). Later it fell upon me to explain the situation to the other brothers and to re explain everything the doctor says to the family because they do not understand. It is hard for them to grasp that because his head was hurt his leg and arm are not working properly. Needless to say it had been a little tough around here for the last week.

Update: Since it has taken me another week to get this posting up abuit is home from the hospital and is slowely recovering. He lost the ability to walk and sit but over the last week he has made great progress with sitting on his own. He is now able ot crawl around and can walk if you support him. His neck muscles have become strong again, and while he does not remember the accident he remembers everything else. We hope to have him walking on his own in the next couple months.

Today I started working on refurbishing the trail to the cave house. It was contructed 7 years ago and there has been no upkeep. We would like to get it restoned but with the lack of money I took matters into my own hands. My tools of choice were a broom and dustpan, and of course my hands. My counterpart; who thinks that you must pay someone else to do the work, was shocked when he saw me on my knees working on the path. He even went and got a spade to help. Half of his helping was just standing and staring at me saying over and over that Ausi Motabo did not like to work (the volunteer that used to live here). He tired after an hour of on and off work and I continued on, but he worked! I am working to remove loose stones and dirt buildup on the path. It is looking pretty good if I do say so and now my counterpart knows I am serious when I say we are going to be moving stones out of our projected picnicking area next. I then went to town to buy eggs, walked the twins home from school, took burs out of the dog's coat, made tortillas and salsa, and washed dishes. Full day done.

My tools for recontruction, excluding my pocket knife

The trail before I worked on it. The trail after I have worked on it.(I can see if difference)

This was a candle being sold in a candle shop in Swaziland. Unusual for home decor. There was also a pair of buffalo in the same position and a lion eating a bloody springbok. It takes all kinds of candles to please the masses.

I was sitting in the sun washing my clothes today and since we live next to the church I am of course going to see the congregation depart after services. I usually take Sunday mornings to do laundry and it is never a problem. But, today I was sitting over my bucket scrubbing and an Nkhona (grandmother) walked by in a group of women, she saw me and started yelling. Not sure what she said but she got all the other women involved and pretty much what I got out of it was that I was in trouble for living at the home of the pastor and not attending the services. Everyone has an opinion about everything I do here so why not that. Random things that I have learned that some Basotho believe: The color of my skin will comfort others of the same color. We are also suppose to be immediate friends.White people's farts do not smell because they are perfect people.Rats turn into bats as taught in the primary education system of LesothoPolygamy does not exist in America, especially among Caucasian peopleHard cat food needs to be cooked in order for a cat to eat it. They also only drink milk, no water.Eating too many eggs causes you to be horny if you are female.You can never use enough soap on laundry or scrub clothes hard enough.Just because you slaughtered a sheep, cleaned a baby's bottom (with your hand), cleaned the sheep's innards, gone to the bathroom, and made dinner all in the process of a few hours, does not mean that you need to wash your hands. (No germs at all)People do not have free will, so if they rape someone it is not their fault!!!

So I got home from work last night; mind you that means that I closed the office door and walked all of 30 feet to my house, and now being kitten free I thought that things would calm down. WRONG! I found a dead bat in the house, so i scooped it up and took it out to throw in the bushes. On the way I saw my abuti and he wanted to see it. I showed him the bat and how the wings open, he said that his teacher says that rats turn into bats. Not correct I said, a rat is a rat and a bat is a bat. I showed him the differences but it is hard to understand if your teacher tells you one thing and they look so similar. I threw the bat away and went back inside. Later as I am drifting off to sleep I hear a squeak and Walter comes barreling through the window with a live mouse. I did not move from my be but needed to see the size of the creature, since the rat I found last week was so big. It was luckily only a small mouse and I hoped that he would kill it quickly so I could throw it out and go to sleep. 2 hours later he is still playing with the mouse and it has hidden under my bed. I turn the light on and sit in my bed with the broom (not sure why but it was comforting) all of a sudden Walter brings the mouse onto my bed and lets it go. It goes running across my pillows, I leap out of bed and he again gets control of it. I am disgusted and petrified, finally fall asleep with the broom in my hand and wake up this morning to the same pathetic squeaks of the undead mouse. It finally died around 9am right when I was trying to get it away from Walter and I got a visitor. I went out to talk with a friend and when I returned the mouse was nowhere to be seen. So I either have a dead mouse rotting in my house or the cat ate it. Needless to say I am tired. I still cannot get used to this part of life here.

We set off to Swaziland and planned on a 8-10 hour drive. We arrived in Swaz 18 hours later cranky and starving. We had a four hour wait at the border because of the Easter Holiday. On the way we bought some peaches from a lady by the road, unfortunitally they were not ripe, be we ate one anyway.

We stayed at a hostel on a nature reserve. Just driving to the hotel we saw all kinds of animals. Welcome to Africa! We've got no animals in Lesotho! We would get up in the morning and the warthogs would be walking around the pool and on the lawns. It was beautiful.

We went white water rafting one day. First time I have ever gone. Great experience until I was thrown from the 2 person raft and almost drowned (not litterally because I had on a lifejacket) scared me to death but I was wearing a helmet, Peace Corps would be so proud!

On the way home we stopped to see where pinapples grow, on the ground! We were taking pictures when one of the girls wanted to see if they fell off very easily. They did, so in order to hide it I pretended I was pregnant until we got to the car. We all felt bad about it and I got scratched up from the delivery.

We also stopped at a sugar cane field On the way back to Lesotho our tire blew (at 3am) and I changed it.

19 hours to get back to Bloomfontein and another 2 back to Maseru. This is what we felt like at the end of the trip. 5 girls in a car for 19 hours straight is not pretty.

But all in all it was a great vacation. I definitally want to go back to Swazi. The shopping alone is worth the drive.

I found a home for my favorite kitten. A Ntate that is on the board of directors for the Cave House wanted a cat. The fact that I was giving it for free was amazing too. They are usually 50 Rand. He chose the orange one and promptly carried it home in a plastic bag. I was very sad for a few hours and drown myself in Coca Cola, this helped to a point then I went in search of the family puppies. Puppies can make anyone feel better (despite the stank) I found a favorite. I am over the grief until the next kitten departs then the process will play out again.

Once late at night a girl got home from a very long and boring trip. The trip was made for the purpose of picking up another girl stranded at a police station in Mphaki. This would not have been a problem has the time not been late in the evening (past the girl’s bedtime) and the driver of the car had not brought the girl along for the sole purpose of easing the stranded girl’s mind solely by the color of her translucently white skin. Off they drove from Quthing on the very long uphill drive to Mphaki. There was a storm raging and the rain was falling in sheets making it impossible to see the road. The girl expressed her unhappiness after a phone call was received from the stranded girl stating she had found a place to board for the night. The driver insisted that they continue because the petrol was already purchased for the trip. He did not care that they were only minutes from their homes and he could reimburse the money spent on the petrol since it was going into his own car. The drive wore on 8pm, 9pm, 10pm… The rain abated and the driver found that singing love songs along with the radio helped pass the time, the girl was not happy about being up so late, and driving to another place to pick someone up that had a place to stay for the night. As they neared Mphaki the driver found it necessary to find every drunken man on the road and stop and ask if they had passed their destination. 10:45pm and they arrived at the police station to collect their stranded charge. She had been staying with a police woman who was enjoying her night on duty by having a few drinks with the other police. The car was stopped several time to converse with very drunk women who would no doubt forget the conversation ever happened, until the girl put an end to the visiting and told them they had to get back to Quthing. The return drive was uneventful and the driver made sure to tell the now non-stranded girl that the other girl did not want to come pick her up (on several occasions). They arrived home at 1am to dark houses. The girl showed their guest where she would be sleeping and went to her own house to go to bed. As she entered the house there was a strange smell in the air, not being able to place the smell and being overcome with fatigue she fell into bed. As she drifted off to sleep the smell kept waking her and she decided that it would need to be dealt with before sleep could be claimed. The lights came on and the litter boxes were checked for the foul smell. When that did not produce a source the under part of the bed was focused on. There were several kittens in the house and the thought was that they had an accident under the bed amongst the bags and boxes. One by one the bags of items were pulled out. The bag that held extra blankets was reached for and slowly pulled into the light, lying on top of the bag in a rather stiff state was a rat, once agile and free, now dead and rotting under the bed. Repulsed and astonished the girl grabbed the dustpan and scooped the filthy creature up and deposited it outside the window for the night on the cold and hard earth. The bags were disinfected and replaced and the girl finally went to bed with a creepy feeling but a much improved smell in the air. The next morning came all too soon since sleep was robbed the previous night. She woke to a commotion from one of her feline companions. Used to the early morning playfulness she was not too concerned until she opened her eyes are saw the dead rat had now become the most popular toy of the morning. It was played with with such reverence. Thrown in the air then caught and cradled to be rubbed on all the available blankets within reach. The girl threw back her covered and dug through the feline bedding to uncover the rat that she could only assume the cat had put to bed for fear that it would be deprived its sleep. She cold heartedly pushed the cat aside as it lunged for the beloved toy and scoped up the rat in the dustpan to take to its final resting place, the toilet…May the dirty disease filled rodent rest in peace.

The same girl hours later was walking to the toilet (not to visit the dead) when she came upon a snake. Sunning in the grass and perfectly blended with the landscape she almost stepped on the snake. Upon closer examination it appeared to be injured (bite marks on the body gave it away). Unsure of what to do and not willing to enter the toilet while it was in such close proximity she thought about her options. Upon an even closer look through her camera lens she discovered an ant walking in the snakes head. “Odd” she though, “that a snake would allow an ant to walk on it” As a test of alertness she threw a stick at the snake, nothing happened, she threw another, still nothing, she picked up a rock and aimed it at the snaked head. As the rock hit, the snake recoiled. “ALIVE” now for some help. She went in search of her Ntate and brought him hack to see the snake. He surveyed that the snake was close to death and it should be left where it was so that the girl’s counterpart could also see it. After all interested parties had viewed it; the snake would be thrown away. This being a plan the girl and her Ntate went back to their lives (the girl having forgot to go to the toilet). Hours later the girl remembered what she needed to do and was off again to the toilet. Planning to see the snake as she walked she was quite astonished to see that it was no longer in the spot it was to have been dying in. She looked around and saw that it had recovered and was making its way into a hole next to the outhouse. Her outhouse. She ran for Ntate and he came back with the girl’s counterpart. Not wanting to see the killing of the miraculously recovered snake she went back into her house (again forgetting what she needed to do). There were bangs, crashes, and shouts. “It is dead, come and see” cried her Ntate. She ran out to look and saw that the men had killed it and closed the hole over the top of it. The girl concerned that it was not actually dead questioned the Ntate and was assured it was cut in half under the metal that now covered the hole. Satisfied she went to bed in peace. The next morning she was again on her way to the toilet and was planning to see the tail of the snake (now dead and pinned under the metal sheet), she froze in horror as she looked upon the spot that the tail had been and found that the head was now in its place and was looking at her. She ran to find her Ntate and came upon her counterpart with the news. He rushed back to the outhouse in disbelief that it was not dead. As they came upon the hole he was sure she was seeing things and was lying. The snake had again moved and was now coiled under a stone close to the now closed opening. The girl moved the stone and her counterpart insisted that he must kill it, he picked up a stone and threw it at the snake “I Killed It” he cried. “It is not dead” cried the girl, “it is! I hit it on the head”, “it is not dead it is still moving,” cried the girl. This conversation repeated like a broken record at least 4 times before the girl attempted to explain how the soft dirt under the snake was cushioning it each time a rock hit it keeping it safe from harm. A rake was finally brought but the girl was not allowed to get close to the snake with the rake, her counterpart thought it would attack her. At long last a blow from a stone severed the body rendering the snake dead. The girl’s counterpart was sure it was dead from getting hit on the head, and she explained that the body was cut in half and that is what killed it. Pictures were taken and the snake was then hidden under the woodpile to be shown to the girl’s Ntate that evening, whom was glad he did not cause the snake harm being a pastor and following the commandment “Thou shall not kill”. After the final showing of the snake it joined the rat in it's final resting place also known as the toilet. May it too rest in peace.

It has been a very difficult learning experience for me changing organizations and jobs. I came to the Cave House with high hopes of helping with development. In the first few days I had managed to create a whole plan for developing the Nature Reserve and allowing it to be self sustainable financially from the government. I wrote lists of things that needed to be done. Walking around the grounds I found a place ready to accommodate camping, another for picnicking. I developed ways to make museum exhibits interactive. There are trails ready to be cleared and mapped for hiking and pony trekking. There is a building that is owned by the church that is perfect to be turned into a hostel to accommodate overnight guests. There are cave paintings that we can fence off and a store that is almost ready to open on the site to sell crafts to tourists. I was so excited to see the possibilities and what this place can be turned into. However that is me. I had to do a reality check with myself to see that my plans are not what Peace Corps is all about. I could come in here at take over and turn this place into something great, but what happens when I leave. I am here to help the current curator facilitate change and assist him in developing the site. We do not think alike, seeing the big picture of what is wanted in the end is easy, choosing the steps to take is a major challenge. The cultural differences are unavoidable and I find myself having to hold my attitude in check with what I feel and say. There are specific projects that can be accomplished with less resources and in a shorter amount of time to begin boosting the area, but they are not seen as important compared to the larger projects that require money. Some of the larger projects could even be started with us doing the manual labor, but that is not heard of. Someone must be hired to move rocks and to put up a fence... I have also found that there is no real sense of historical preservation in this area. There are bushman paintings drawn over by the school children with chalk, historical significance is not something that is cherished. In America things are roped off to preserve but here they are for anyone to touch.

I have to let my plans for this place go and be happy with merely helping to facilitate the changes they are willing to make. There is nothing wrong with moving forward at a slower pace than I am used to. Small changes and the planting of ideas can bear the same fruit in the long run as drastic changes, but they may be more apt to sustainability. One document, one project, one change at a time will make a difference. I love working and look forward to the year ahead, I am OK with not working with a clinic or doing HIV/AIDS workshops, we all play a part in the development of Lesotho and I am OK the role I was given. I do see that I am going to learn more about myself and may return to America being the most patient person in the world (That or go crazy in the process). We'll see.

Have you ever had a day where you were about to wallop someone for being so annoying? It is not a good feeling but even worse when they are just acting normal and not trying to be annoying. Today is such a day. It started with staring over my shoulder for an hour while I was trying to type a document, with intermittent shouts to passer Byers; and not normal volume but blow horn strength. Then asking questions about things that have no real connection to what we are doing. A three year old child asking “why” is enough to drive you insane. A 30something adult asking the constant “why” and I am about to run in front of the next speeding combie. I find my irritation comes with my lack of food so I try to keep my stomach fully satisfied at all times, though this will backfire soon and begin to show an layer of fat covering my body. The flies and mosquitoes landing on my in very short intervals does not seem to help matters. I need a new way to decompress at site on a daily basis. I am sitting in the office trying to work on a blog for the Cave House and am looking at the Bob the Builder that my coworker has been wearing today. Not only Bob the Builder but the tag says for ages 1-3 and it has the safari flap that can be rolled down in the back with Velcro straps incase the sun is too hot on little necks. And I was the one who got made fun of today for talking with my cat in my house. Seriously I have to talk to someone that will not come back with an irrelevant question or response. I can maintain normalcy in the one sided conversations with a dysfunctional male cat that has again taken up breast feeding along with the 6 week old kittens; even though he is a year old. There are no words to describe my life.

A fellow PCV; Erin**, and I went hiking around the reserve property a few days ago. We scaled rocks slid through non-existent trails, interacted with the farm animals and learned some important lessons about nature. Lesson #1 Never walk through briar patches with tights on (they collect everything)

Lesson #2 Never grab a prickly pear (cactus fruit) with your hands as it releases 100s of invisible thorns into your hands which proceed to sting for days.

Lesson #3 Never try to milk a very large dog when she is standing in front of you and you get curious because you just milked a cow (nothing came out anyway).**Erin is now the proud owner of two kittens dubbed Obama and Mandela. 2 down and 3 to go!!

I love the little things but they have got to go. My house is over run. Next Tuesday will be 6 weeks and they are ready to go off into the world, my house cannot accommodate 7 cats, 2 litter boxes, and my wallet cannot support the amount of food they are going through, and I am sick of the constant crying coming in waves at all hours. Same process in another few months anyway.

I guess Walter has felt left out. I came home to fine him nursing. Little old!

Here is a picture span of my new house. Just think in a circle and you got it. Much smaller than my last place but home is home no matter the size.

I put the books we are selling at the cave house on display and lo and behold they are selling. Who would have though. This huge grasshopper (at least 4 inches) was brought into the house and caused me quite a panic till I found it on the screen and got it out.

My host family has pomegranate trees.

I found this bush by the cavehouse. It looks normal from a distance but get closer and look at the size of the thorns. WOW!

Walter Mollo couldn't find a place to sleep while I packed up my house. At least he is easy to move around.

This has been a crazy week. Monday I moved out of the house I have been living in for the last 7 months and away from the village I learned to see as my home. I moved about an hours drive away to begin a new job working for Masitise Cave House Museum. Crazy I know, but I have felt from the beginning I want to offer skills that are not available here and I was not doing that at my old job (or anything else for that matter). I feel like I have completed more work in the last 5 days then in the last 7 months combined. I moved into another rondival, smaller than my other one if anyone can believe that. I live on the mission compound and my host family is the pastor and his wife and children. The museum curator also lives on site. We will soon become one big happy family I am sure. The family has 4 sons, 3 horses, cows, sheep, chickens, a dog, 7 puppies, and will soon be the owners of one of my kittens. I will no longer try to get a horse but can ride theirs as soon as I get a helmet from Peace Corps (I would rather go in my hat and boots but I will comply with the PC rules).

The sons are 15, 10, and 2 year old twins; all are wonderful and great to have around. I feel at home here and felt that way when I visited back in November. Now most people do not know what the cave house is. It was deemed a historical site by Lesotho Government. It is the place where Dr. Ellenberger built a house and created a mission in Lesotho. He built the house out of a pre–existing cave in the hills and it has been turned into a museum and cultural attraction. Most reading this have no idea what that has to do with Peace Corps, Well I am happy to tell you. The Cave house is run on grants and assistance from the government. It is their goal to become completely self sufficient and to develop the site as a tourist attraction. I will be working with the curator to incorporate the local villages in the development by creating a craft store that they can sell their goods at to gain an income. I am also going to be boosting and basically starting their marketing (creating a website, pamphlet, fliers). There are plans to establish a bed and breakfast and pony trekking at the site and I will be working with the curator to set these things up. No small task. I am above all learning patience. It is truly a virtue that I lack most of the time. I work way too fast for the people here and have to slow it down quite a bit. We got a computer for the office and it took an entire day to set it up and learn how to use the printer. It took all morning today to walk my counterpart through the process of making a calendar on the computer and printing it out. It took all afternoon to get him to understand the concept of why we need a calendar to write events and appointments on. The little things take hours. I printed a new price list for the books that we sell and it took all day for my counterpart to realize why the old one looked so bad and that you can make a border for the page in a word document. Frustrating at times and I want to scream because he does not get it but in all I love the work. I am excited about the plans we are making and have to hold myself in check to make sure that I am not doing all the work but creating ways for the work to be carried on when I leave. Sustainability is the key and me doing everything will not help the people in the long run. So slow but steady we will go.

Today I got to help the herd boy in milking the cow. I milked 1 teat while he finished the other three in the same amount of time. It was a family event to watch me try it to milk and they laughed every time I got hit by the cows tail. You have to have some strong hand muscles to milk a cow two times a day.

I am no longer in a village in the middle of the mountains and my host family can speak English, I have electricity (one light bulb) and the pump is right outside my house, so I live in relative luxury, but I am happy. I figure I roughed it for 7 months in village and even though this is really nice here (still have an outhouse and I live in a room the size of my parents back closet) it is still Peace Corps, just different from my ideal. I live in a small wooded area so I feel like I am camping most of the time. I could do without the mosquitoes (especially the ones that fly out of my toilet in swarms) but good with the bad right?

I went to TT to visit a friend (PC approval of course) and on the way back I was instructed to catch the sprinter that left at 6 am or the Cat Cat bus that left at 7. The slow bus that left later would take a few hours more. I stood out and did not see the sprinter so I got on the Cat Cat. I was in the front of the line and got a seat so I was happy (5 hour ride) We made it about 30 minutes outside of TT and the bus started to smoke. Mass panic ensued and everyone was shoving and running to get off the very very full bus. I can now see how people get trampled in a panic. We all got to the side of the road and they turned the bus off. They turned it back on and there was a small explosion underneath which sent everyone running up a hill. At that point everything was unloaded and some people were left sitting on the side of the road and others started to walk back to TT. I started to walk back and came upon the slow bus. Of course there was standing room only so I got on lined myself up in the aisle and hung on. 3 hours later I was cranky, tired of standing on a bus going on a gravel road, and wishing I was anywhere but where I was. We stopped for a break and I found a shopowner to let me use his bathroom. I got back on the bus with 15 rand in my bra ready to pay someone for their seat. I ended up getting a seat that someone had not marked with their belongings so enjoyed the rest of the ride sitting down with an elbow in my back from one of the people standing. I somehow cannot complain after that. I started talking to a young man who is going to college in SA. He was very learned and we were talking well so we walked together to the Peace Corps office and had a long discussion. He said that people are forced to do things like have sex with others and I said that unless it is rape there is always a choice. We got into a heated discussion about how people have free will (he thinks they do not) and at one point he said he wished I was a man so that he could beat the truth into me. I calmly said that beating does not do anything and even if a person is beat they still have the choice to believe what they are told. He never grasped the concept and I walked away with a strong sense of who I am while he walked away mad and ready to beat me. Oh well. (No beating would ever have ensued; we were on a very busy public street)

It is evening and the nightly storm is rolling in. There is always thunder and lightning at night. Some might find that scary but it is very relaxing to hear the thunder rolling around the sky every night. I just discovered 2 bug bites on my arm and one on my inner thigh which have me slightly paranoid because someone with bedbugs visited my house today for all of 10 minutes. Two packages from the states were delivered to me today! I cannot explain the excitement and joy I feel when I see a box from home. Not that I am expecting anything but it is nice to have a tangible connection. I talk with my family on the phone but it is not something I can touch. My joy and excitement are usually followed by guilt for the astronomical amount of postage that was spent sending me items that in the end probably do not add up to the postage. But that is pushed aside as I tear the boxes open and look at America. I touch and hold everything in the box taking each thing out one and a time savoring the surprises. Then I put it all back in the box exactly as it came and just look at it for awhile. I went through this process about 30 minutes ago (even went as far as hugging the boxes and taking pictures) and now I am sitting here in the dark with my candle suddenly overwhelmed with homesickness. I does not help that my little sisters miss me and that in the year and a half that still have left here they will change so much more. I miss home. It is something that you never outgrow. (Side note: I just stopped to go use the outhouse and it stuck me as not the wisest thing to go sit inside a metal box at the top of a hill in a thunderstorm. I am sure my rubber sandals made all the difference in my safety, nice break in the mood) I absolutely love all the thought that goes into anything that is sent to me, I want to thank everyone that has thought of me while I am here and taken the time to write. I feel so blessed with my family and friends back home.

I went to my Ausi’s high school today to give her permission to come home for the weekend. Because there are so many orphans that board at the schools they require all boarding students to remain there on weekends so they are not running around unsupervised getting into trouble. Good was to curb some of the unfavorable pastimes and behaviors of the youth, but in my Ausi’s case she had to send a message home with one of my village neighbors requesting me to come in to give her permission to come home. I had to get into town the next day, go to the school and talk with the principal stating how much she was needed at home this weekend and that there was no one else to do the vegetable canning for the family. The principal finally consented and wrote a note for the dorm mother, and then I had to sit in the hall for 45 minutes and wait for Ausi to get out of class. Once she was out it took another 30 minutes to locate her, I talked to her for 5 minutes then travel back down to the taxi rank wait for 30 minutes in a taxi then endure the long ride home and a walk through the rain to my house. Couldn’t they just accept a phone call? All this said I would do it again if I needed to. I had a lovely (I am being sarcastic) conversation with a young man while waiting for the taxi, it went pretty much as follows:

(He gets out of a car and walks up to me sitting on a rock)

-Ausi I want to sex you

-What? You want to sex me?

-Yes I want to sex you

-Well I don’t want you to sex me

-Why not? I am hungry

-Well you’ll have to go eat somewhere else because I will not sex you.

-But I love you, give me your number

-Where do you live Ntate?

-I live in Qacha’s Nek

-OK if I ever go to Qacha’s Nek and see you there I will give you my number then.

-But will you remember me?

-Remind me of this conversation and yes I will remember you

-So you will not sex me now?

-NO.

Highly entertaining and a little uncomfortable since two women were watching our interaction the whole time. But it is the small moments in life that can fill you with much joy or are at least entertaining and are good stories for later.

“What we do in life echoes in eternity”

(just watched Gladiator)

Two views of my house from the road into the village

Here is where I wash my clothes when there is no water in the area tap

OK I am getting attached! You would have to be a monster not to. How adorable can little he/she Henry be? (still can’t tell the sex and yes I named him/her) The other kittens have nothing on this one.

I bought a paper for the first time since coming to Lesotho. It is really interesting for lack of a better word. Some of the major contrasts to American papers are as follows;

The main story is about farmers that have not paid back loans acquired from the bank. Many farmers must take loans in order to plant crops for the year. The first loans were issued in 2006 and the loans have continued to be issued yearly to applicants. There are a couple things that are interesting about the story. Farmers will take out a loan, default on all loan payments and still qualify for a new loan the following year. Red flags anyone? Secondly in Lesotho there is a personal shame factor that utilized to prompt change. The name, location, and amount owed by each farmer is posted in the national paper for all to see. (School grades are posted in the same manner) Confidentiality takes on a whole new meaning.

There is a story about Carry Fisher ie: Princess Leah from Star Wars, in the paper. This is the accompanying picture of Carrie...I am sorry but this IS NOT a picture of Carry Fisher.

Playboy energy drink has launched in Lesotho for the first time. Guess when it was launched in America? 2001! We are only 9 years behind at this point.There is a section in the weekly paper that is dedicated to health. This is week two of a series teaching what pregnancy is. I missed last week but in recapping it stated that last weeks article defined what pregnancy actually is and this week it tells what your body will go through and what parts of the female body are called. It is enlightening to see that this is for the educated reader. People really do not know this stuff. I had more detailed information in my 6th grade health book, then they are getting as adults in the newspaper. I think it is going to be a few years before they start tackling the heavy topics like restless leg syndrome and menopause.

I need to have a reality check with my Lesotho attire. On this chosen day I am wearing an orange skirt, teal shirt with bleach spots, a red headband and broken sunglasses. Nowhere in America would this be acceptable. And when did I start thinking this looks good (which I do). Heaven help me when I return to the states with my warped fashion sence.

I have had some very large bugs uninvited into my house as of late due to my charming house companion Walter. It is quite an inconvenience to be stuck on my bed or in a chair several times a day until the creature has been properly played with and eaten.

Check out the crazy spider I found in the garden. Looks kinda like a strange squash. Had a great web. So glad I did not walk into it.

There have been several staff changes in Peace Corps Lesotho since I arrived in June 2009. Since then we have gotten a new Country Director, Program Director, medical staff, and several other positions have been changed. It has been challenging as everyone has tried to fill in the absent roles and support for PCVs suffered as a result. We now have all the positions filled and they are attempting to sort individual problems with volunteers. I have struggled from the beginning with my job placement. It has been difficult being placed with an organization that has not started (for 7 months) and now that is has started I cannot do my job due to my lack of language skills. It has been difficult, I know myself and my ability to learn Sesotho and am not criticising myself when I say that I will never be able to speak up to the level they are looking for in order to do my job properly. It makes me frustrated and angry that they do not understand this and I feel pressure which causes me to learn even slower. I want to do my job and want to enjoy what I am doing but the reality is I am not. I am counting the days till I can leave, which is not how I want to look at my time here. I had a site visit from Peace Corps staff and we talked with my supervisor/counterpart from my organization. During the meeting when asked if I am doing something a Basotho could be doing (which is not the goal of the Peace Corps, we do not want to take jobs away) he said yes. I am able to work for free while they do not have the budget to hire someone. I am free labor, for two years then they will hire someone to take over when they have the budget for it. This is not what I am suppose to be doing here! I am mad and upset and have lost all ambition to work. Several other parts of the meeting were equally as bad including them asking why I was placed with them since my skill set was taking children from their families in America (the adoption agency) and here we are trying to strengthen families and keep children with their parents. AAAHHHHHHHHHH! Words cannot describe........I am hoping for some changes after talking with the Peace Corps staff following the meeting. I am looking into other projects that I can do on the side as a way to feel useful but the fact that I am in a rural area and my Sesotho is bad is a huge hindrance. On top of that the people also speak a great deal of Khosa and I cannot even begin to learn that. I am frustrated and demotivated. I want to feel like I am making a difference with the work I am doing and have a passion for my project. Things need to change and I am working on that, I am not giving up and will not leave Peace Corps early but I do not want to spend the next 17 months counting the days till I am done.

The kittens are 2 weeks old now. They have opened their eyes and ears and are at last starting to resemble what I assume kittens to look like. I am almost dreading them being able to leave the box and have visions of kittens getting into everything in my small house. Even though they do not do anything I find that they make me so happy and I love watching how they change. They do not have names as I am not planning to get attatched so I am calling them Kittens 1 through 5 at the moment.

I was in Maseru for a Volunteer Action Committee meeting and walked in to find two other PCVs entertaining themselves with a bee on a string. You catch a bee, stick it in the freezer to stun it, then tie a string around it and wait for it to come out of the coma. The bee then flies around while you are holding it on a string. We create out own fun here in Lesotho.

Some interesting things that I just take for granted as being part of my life but may be interesting to those not currently in Lesotho;

Lesotho uses the Moluti as currancy but also accepts the South African currancy called Rand. Now Rand and Moluti are the same exchange rate, Lesotho uses both the Moluti and the Rand but South Africa will only accept Rand.

Buying bottled water is a way of showing status. If you are carrying bottled water around you are seen as rich. But people also reuse bottles they find on the ground. There is also a belief that you cannot drink cold water, it will make you sick, so hot water only.

We were in a taxi to my village, we tried to get up a hill and the car kept dying. They made a woman get out of the 4+1 cause it was too heavy. She had to walk up the hill and get back in the car at top. But don't worry she paid full price.

Children in school are required to shave their heads. You can always tell which children are in school as to their hair. If it is too long (1/8 of an inch) they are sent home until they get it cut.

WORLD HEALTH ORGANIZATION 2009 STATISTICS FOR LESOTHOMaternal Morality Ratio (per 100,000 births)*Lesotho = 960

*USA = 11

HIV Infections Among Adults (per 100,000)

*Lesotho = 21,548

*USA = 452

Contraceptive Prevalence

*Lesotho = 37.3%

*USA = 72.8%

HIV Mortality Rate (per 100,000)

*Lesotho = 896

*USA = 7

Male Life expectancy at Birth

*1990 = 59 years

*2000 = 46 years

*2007 = 43 years

Female Life Expectancy at Birth

*1990 = 63 years

*2000 = 54 years

*2007 = 47 years Physicians (Density per 10,000)*Lesotho = 1 *USA = 26

Male Adult Mortality Rate (dying between age 15-60 per 1000 population)

*1990 = 287

*2000 = 629

*2007 = 795

Female Adult Mortality Rate (dying between age 15-60 per 1000 population)

*1990 = 214

*2000 = 432

*2007 = 670

I went to Matsieng earlier this week to help fellow PCV Carol teach swimming lessons to the kids at the high school. I had a great time but was looking forward to getting home to see if Princess Poop Johnny had her kittens. She was due anytime and I was dying to see the birth. I had the neighbor coming to my house daily to check on the cats and feed them, just in case. Wednesday night I arrive in my village and am walking down the path to my house and Abuti Neo comes up;

“The kittens are here”

“The kittens are here, when did they come?”

“They came yesterday morning, on your bed.”

“what?”

“She had the kittens on your bed.”

“Oh no!”

“We gave her a box and put her in the box but she did not like the box and is on the bed.”

“How many kittens?”

“There are 5 kittens, and one kitten is so white, soooo white.”

It went on like this until we got to my door, opened it and low and behold 5 kittens born in the center of my bed. Words cannot describe…EW…

I took my neighbor some cucumbers as a thank you and got my house keys back. She came back and showed me the box they got;

“I came yesterday morning and there were 2 kittens, 2 kittens on the bed. I came back in the afternoon and there were 5 kittens, 5 kittens on the bed. I gave her this cloth (a silk slip) in a box but she did not want it she wanted the bed only.”

I had prepared a box for PJ and brought it all the way from Maseru. I thought it would be big enough for her and the kittens. The box my neighbors got was half the size and she would have to sit up in it, Walter barely fit and he is smaller than she is. No wonder she did not like the box. I decided to donate my bathtub to the cause and moved PJ and babies into it, not sure how I will bathe but that is for another day. Then came the job of the bed. In America I would have thrown the blankets away and bought new ones. Lets face it birthing is not a pretty process. But here I do not have that luxury and thus spent the next 2 hours scrubbing all of the yuck out of my comforter and cover.

House clean and back to normal now I got to look at the new little family members. They remind me of Helen Keller, in the movie when she is waving her arms and fighting with the teacher, they look like that when they are fighting over milk. They cannot see or hear and thus are little Helen Kellers but look a lot like deformed rats. I know kittens are adorable but not newborn ones. I am convinced that Walter Mollo is confused by their appearance. He gets into the bed with Princess Poop Johnny and the kittens and will lick them in a caring manner, but then they move all twitchy and squeak and he gets excited and starts to bite them, I'm pretty sure he thinks they are rats. All in all it has been a great few days. I have had several bo’Me (women) come to my house to see the kittens and they are all very excited. I am to sell them for 50R or a chicken, so I am told. I might just have a full chicken coop by the end of my stay here, and yes I will be finding homes for all of them no Crazy Cat Lady here!

I was heading to town today and since I had so much stuff to carry decided to take a combie rather than walk. This is a rare treat because frankly I cannot justify spending 8R for a 7k drive both to and from my village. I headed out to the stop; which is a bench on the side of a maize shed, and waited. Several people came and we chatted in Sesotho. I informed everyone that I had sefuba (flu/cold) which I got a few days ago in Matsieng. This was a big hit because everyone says they have it. It could be that they are snuffing too much tobacco into their noses but who am I to diagnose. We are waiting and a man comes up and asks me to pray for all the people there. Strange but I go along, then they stuck me in a combie going the opposite way from where I wanted to go, but it has to turn around eventually. I got in and we set off down the road, we drive to the primary school which takes about 20 minutes and then back to where I got on (another 20 minutes) from there we are off to town. It has only been an hour and a half since I left my house and could have walked to town by now. While in the combie the driver is talking about me, I say “Ke seba u bua ke na” (I know you are talking about me) one of the passengers can speak a little English and translates. The driver is telling the others how white people do not take ARVs for HIV/AIDS. He goes on to state that white people do not have HIV but the black people get it from the white people. Interesting…not at all true but nice theory. I told him that all countries have HIV and that Americans have it as well and the ones that do have it are on ARVs. He was sure I was teasing him and felt confident that his theory was the right one. I informed him that HIV originated in Africa (and no a white person did not bring it here) and it is being spread around Lesotho because people are having multiple concurrent partners and are refusing to use condoms. All the while a girl in the front seat is saying that Basotho are stupid (she is Basotho herself) and the lady next to me is sleeping on my shoulder. We talked the whole ride and I did teach one man the ways you can get HIV from another person and no coughing in the air is not one of them. I made it to town 2 hours after I left my house but it was interesting to say the least.

I decided to tackle the weeds in my Ntate’s garden last night. After spending an hour watering (no we do not have a hose, I have 2 buckets and walk back and forth from the tap, until my neighbor insists I cannot water properly without a watering can, which I switch to but it does the same thing) I got to it. Not sure what was and was not a weed and scared I would be pulling up their food I called Kamohelo over to tell me which was which. While he was over he kept insisting I hold his sister, who did not want to be held by the lahooa. Then another little girl comes up and finds an egg in the grass. Kamohelo says it is his egg from his chickens that he has been pushing towards our yard. My neighbor boy, Neo comes over to talk at that point and says that it is his mother’s egg from her chickens. The first boy turns to me and says “Ausi Mpho don’t you see my 3 chickens in your yard?” I reply “Well I see chickens but do not know if they are yours. Abuti Neo’s mother’s chickens are always over here and that is probably her egg, why don’t you introduce me to your three chickens tomorrow and then I will know them when I see them…” Like I can keep track of which chicken is which, I still do not know the names for half the children that come to my house on a daily basis. Anyway the egg is with one family and I will be meeting some chickens today I guess. Drama….

I was talking to a villager named Ntate Greene (yes like the dog bone) he is the same villager that though he was dying from hick-ups a month back. He is very animated and was telling me all about his crops and fields. We were standing next to my house on the hill looking down over the whole area around our village. He said "Ausi do you see my field? It is the one right there next to the tree." I am thinking sure there are at least 100 fields in the area you just pointed and quite a few trees. So I pretended I saw it. They are all growing the same thing anyway. "Yes Ntate i see your field out there it stands apart from all the others that surround it." Hah it was so great. It would be like if you had a bowl of popcorn and said that 1 kernel in there is mine do you see it, it is next to the other kernel that is white...

The millapedes are huge here. We are talking at least 4 inches. The other night I heard something in the roof. A few minutes later something falls right next to my bed and a foot from my head. I was a huge millapede. The next night another came in the same place and I discovered it after it was crawling on the wall underneath the kids drawings. It was so big is was making the paper rustle.

A great friend that I go horse back riding with every year in June Lake California; Cowboy Dave, sent me a box. It was full of towels, soap, maps, and toothbrushes which I am going to use to work with the kids on hygiene. In the box was a nurf football. I got it out for the kids to play with and was not sure what to call it. A football is a soccer ball here. And American football does not exist. So I decided to call it a rugby ball. I attempted to show the kids how to throw it but I could not get the point across, so it is now used in a game they invented where you bounce it on the ground and try to jump in front of its path when it bounces. They also use it to hit each other, and my kitten Walter Mollo loves it almost as much as the children do. COWBOY DAVE, THANK YOU SO MUCH!

I got a ride the other day with a villager that was driving to town. I got in the truck and was talking to the man (in Sesotho of course) and happened to look behind me. This poor little face was looking at me through the window. I would like to introduce you to the man's dinner. (the sheep)

There is a cactus that I noticed when I first arrived in Quthing. We drove past it on the road to my village and it was so small and cute and randomly placed on the side of a hill. I always look for it when I am going down the road, and for some reason it makes my happy. It is the same as all the other cactus in the area but this one draws me to it. I have begun to get excited about seeing it when I drive past, and it was once small and cute and it has grown. I have been in Lesotho long enough that my cactus has grown a good foot in height. It makes me think about how time goes by so fast. It is already 2010 and February, the weather is starting to get cooler and fall and winter will be coming soon. I have been through 2 full seasons in Lesotho...

My neighbor boys came over the other day and had a new toy they were playing with. The children do not have actual toys, they are things they make or pretend are toys. I asked what they were and they said "cell phones" It was a matchbox with a string hanging down as the speaker. I forgot to mention that the ringer was a very angry bee inside the box. They would shake the box and the phone would vibrate. Inventive and so funny. I had them pose for a picture. (I did not choose the pose they thought of it on their own)

All the kids were at my house the other day coloring and one of the big girls was watching my neighbors baby. She was just watching for awhile and I asked if she wanted to draw and she said no. A little while later one of the younger girls carries the baby into the house and says to me "can you hold this baby?" Well of course, she is too cute for words.

It is Friday again, the end of another week in Lesotho and things are up and down as always. My Ausi is away at boarding school in the camptown. It is only 7 kilometers away but getting there to see her is hard during non school hours. My Ntate left yesterday to go to the mountains for 2 weeks with the sheep, leaving me in charge of the farm and harvesting the tomatoes. I am not sure what all he expects me to do with the tomatoes so I might try to can some for them for this winter. I am watering the garden and keeping the dirt stoop clean while they are gone. Our pig is now at the Aunt’s house so I am going to spend the day making a compost box for all the left over food that used to be fed to Wilber (my name for the pig).

Peach season is here. They are ripe in some parts of the country but not here yet. That does not stop people from eating them. The kids show up at my house eating green peaches. They say that they have to eat them before they are all picked by someone else. So eat them unripe or do not get any is the philosophy. What is sad is I ate a green one the other day and it was not bad.

I just got back from refilling my cats’ litter box and it struck me as odd that I did not find it strange at all that I was kneeling in a cow corral with a dustpan and metal spatula collecting dirt/manure. You may ask why the tools, well the spade was locked in my Ntate’s house. How far I’ve come.

The education volunteers that arrived in November 2009 are now at their sites throughout Lesotho. I got two of them in my camptown and they are now my closest neighbors, only a 1.5 hour walk. I have visited one of them and can see how extremely different our living situations are across Lesotho. I live in a rondival, no water, no bathroom, no electricity, no room really. Both of the new volunteers have indoor bathrooms with a shower or bathtub, electricity, running water, and multiple rooms. To each their own experience but I do envy them at times.

I returned to my site from phase III training in Maseru and had a struggle getting back into things. I was worse at Sesotho, missed my friends, and wondered how I was going to survive. I locked myself in my house one day and pretended I wasn’t home just not being able to handle the visitors. It has been a struggle. Most volunteers are busy with projects all the time. I was wary at the beginning to get involved with extra projects because my host organizations project looking to take up most of my time (when it got started). BUT after 7 months and still no program I decided to move on with my life. I started looking for side projects and surprise, my program with SOS started to take off. From my funk last week I have made a miraculous turn around and am feeling great. SOS has selected 6 villages to work with for the FSP (Family Sustainability Program), we will select at most, 12-14 families in each of the villages to work with. A meeting was held in each village and the residents were able to select whom they felt were the most needy orphans and vulnerable children. Those children’s caregivers were given an application to the program and we are currently in the process of interviewing each of the families. On Wednesday we started going to the homes of the children and interviewing the caregivers to verify the need and set up the plan for them to become self sufficient over the next 3 years. I am expecting my Sesotho to greatly improve through this. The families are so poor. I know the country in general is poor but the people are so so so poor. Some did not have an outhouse and were having to use the field by their house. Some did not have a water tap and were not allowed to use the community water tap for lack of contribution and were having to haul water from the river. Talking to the caregivers was sad, most were grandparents taking care of their grandchildren because their children abandoned them to go find work or died. When we asked what they needed and wanted most just wanted their children to not be treated any differently than the others at school. To not stand out because they did not have a uniform. They also wanted to be able to feed the children at least 2 times a day. It makes you very thankful for what you have.

We are working with each family to earn their own money by doing small scale business such as raising chickens and selling meat or eggs, or growing extra produce and selling it. I am excited to see the projects take shape and bring in income in the near future for each of the families. I think I am going to enjoy working with them one on one to learn the skills they need to be able to support their families.

We just finished up our phase III training that is required by Peace Corps. CHED 09 is finally done with training even though it was 5 months later than it was suppose to be. It was a lot of information that was really good and will hopefully be helpful in the months to come. Some of the facts about Lesotho that came up that I had forgotten:

Lesotho only has 7% arable land to farm. There are 1.8 million in Lesotho 33% of all people in Lesotho are HIV positive67% of all people in Lesotho are HIV negativeThe 3 countries with he highest HIV rate are 1. Botswana 2. Swaziland 3. LesothoThere is currently an organization that is working to create a directory of all people working in some capacity with orphans and vulnerable children. There has never been a directory put together so no one actually knows how many organizations are helping and in what capacity. In 2002 there were said to be 180,000 orphans in Lesotho. In 2006 when the last census was done there were said to be 270,000 orphans. The real number is believed to be around 400,000. The way they are counted is through the school system. They go into classrooms and in front of the class ask children to raise their hands if they are orphans (single, double) this is counted and how the numbers are put together. This does not count the number of children out of school and infants, so the number is believed to be around 400,000.

These are amazing pictures I took at a botanical garden in Semonkong

I went home to my village after my hospital stay and was still not feeling up to par. I needed to do laundry and the water tap near my house was out of water so I gathered up all the laundry and headed down the hill to the river. I got to the river and proceeded to do my washing. After I was done I started up the hill and normally I can make it no problem; I average walking 50+ miles a month a hill is nothing, I had to stop 5 times to rest just to get back to my house, I was out of breath and tired. The next day I went to town and felt horrible so I called the nurse and she said I was to come to Maseru immediately, well immediately in Lesotho took 7 hours. I waited in village for an hour for a combie to drive by, then waited at the taxi rank for my combie to fill up to leave for Maseru (which took 2 hours). Driving took 4 hours during which we changed combies, broke down and had to listen to insanely horrible music. I have a high tolerance for most annoyances, but when not feeling well I can handle nothing. So between me yelling at a man in the taxi rank, refusing to switch seats when asked, and shoving someone who touched me, I think I handled myself pretty well. I got to Maseru only to be sent straight back to the hospital. I have not felt horrible but just constantly bad, between intestinal problems, lightheadedness, dizziness, and weakness. The hospital hooked up another IV (I am pretty sure they nicked my nerve) and gave me the same meds as before and took some blood. Luckily my friend Emily was in the hospital for similar problems and we were able to hang out together. I have no more answers on what is going on, I hope to get test results on Monday and get this all sorted out once and for all. I got out of the hospital today and will be staying in Maseru for awhile. Thus was my second and hopefully final hospital stay in Lesotho.

(Sign placed at the beginning of all road construction projects. Like it needs to be stated)(Poop Johnny is expecting kittens in February)

(Walter Mollo is checking out my garden's vegitables.

They are really small but I grew them myself)

I have been sick on and off for a month now. Without going into details that I am sure no one wants to know, I was losing to much fluid, electrolites, etc... and was not able to replace them fast enough over a month and was was having a hard time functioning, walking, thinking, you name it. I was taken to the hospital in Maseru and was admitted for 2 nights and put on IV fluids and antibiotics to sort out whatever was wrong. It was an experience to say the least. I was put in a 9x11 room with no windows and violet walls. There was no air flow unless the monster fan was turned on then you could not hear. I was forced to wear a floral nightgown that most people would not be caught dead in, and compromised by wear it with my sweat pants. I was hooked up to an IV that was hung on the wall with a coat hook. When I went to the bathroom in the communal bathroom down the hall I would just carry it with me and hang it on the door handle. They played either traditional music or Kenny Rogers Christmas; both of which I could live without. The nurses and doctor were great. The nurses were excited to hear that I spoke Sesotho, and when I asked for papa le maroho for dinner it got around the hospital fast and everyone was talking about it. I was that source of entertainment. Some of the Peace Corps staff came to visit me and brought magazines, lotion, candy, and KFC. It was really nice to know everyone was concerned and keeping tabs.

My IV was really hurting after a day and I asked the doctor about it, he said we would have to take it out and put in a new one. He was trying to get the tape off and I kept removing his hands from the area that hurt and told him I was a baby about the pain and the following conversation happened:

"Ow that hurts when you press on my arm. I am a baby around needles" (me)

"You want a baby" (doctor)

"No, I am a baby when it comes to getting shots"

"Oh you want a baby when you get a shot"

"No I act like a child when I get a shot because I do not like them"

"Oh you would like to have a child when you get a shot"

"Never mind"

Then the nurse said I was too old and needed to have a baby. Every time she came in the room she would talk about how I was getting too old and needed to have a baby soon. Such are life's priorities here in Lesotho.

I am now out of the hospital, two IVs, 4 antibiotics, 6 bags of fluids, and 3 days later. Hopefully cured of my mystery. I am in Maseru for another night to get medical clearance then home to Quthing.

For The holidays this year I was originally planning on working at a camp in my camptown on Christmas day then going to Durban South Africa on the 29th of December and staying till the 4th of January. Plans changes slightly. A few days before Christmas the camp was not coming together and the funds were not there. I had two other pvcs coming to help at the camp and then we would all go to Durban. I finally made the decision to cancel the camp and my friends and I were going to spend Christmas in my village. A few hours in village and I decided this was not possible. It was horrible, between having to talk with all the drunk adults, all the kids coming for treats, and all the caios of extended fmily coming to town, I could not handle it. So we made an impromptu decision and left for Durban on the 24th.

We started out early on the morning, got a hitch to town, then got three more hitches before having to catch the bus to Qacha's Nek where we would cross the border. We stopped the bus on a mountain, climbed on and of course were a spectical (4 white girls in the middle of nowhere), a man in the back of the bus shouted to me "ausi I cannot live without you, marry me" and I replied "Ntate, you have ilved your whole life without knowing me, I think you will survive." The whole bus started laughing and that kept him quiet for the remainder of the ride. The bus has no capacity limits so we ended up standing in the aisle in the packed aisle pressed against smelly men for three hours before a seat opened up. Then I sat next to a man without a shirt and liquor bottles hanging out of both his pockets. I moves seats hoping to upgrade saet companions only to sit next to a girl that was throwing up for the next hour. We got to Qacha's Nek, walked to the border, then got in the back of a truck for the 45 minute ride to the city in SA where we would catch a combie to Durban, we got the last 4 seats on the last combie and made it into Durban at 9pm. Not the safest thing to do but a local lady showed us were to go and got us in a cab for the Hostel. only 14 hours of travel.

We stayed at Ansty's Beach Backpackers. It is a hostel which is a dorm style setting. We slept in the dorms for the first few nights then moved to the tent. We were right on the beach which was great. We met some people from Jo'burg, Argentina, and Sweden who were also staynig at the hostel and got to hang out with them most of the time. There were also 3 married couples who were serving in the Peace Corps in South Africa. That is one of the benifits to staying in a hostel you meet all kinds of people and are sharing all the facilities with them and sleeping in the same rooms.

We spent a couple days catching up on retail therapy. The malls in Durban are amazing. The smaller mall would outdo any that I have been to in America. Thank the Lord for credit cards. I spend more then intended but chalked it up to keeping my sanity during the long months in Lesotho. Not till I got home and looked at my statement did I realize that I spend $80 US at the Body Shoppe. Never shopped there in America but given the chance in Africa I go crazy, and who knows what I actually bought. It was a lesson learned but for awhile I will smell like an American again. I also bought a new trek backpack since mine was not fitting correctly (I did get it in high school) The same day I bought it I met a girl at the hostel that needed a trek pack and I sold my old one to her for 300R ($40US). It worked out perfect! The mall is a different atmousphere, children are mostly barefoot and no one follows you around in the stores you can shop on your own. Also it was great to not stand out for awhile, just blend into the crowd.

The Indian Ocean is terrific. It is warm but anything is warmer than the Pacific in Oregon. The lifeguards provide a single area for playing in the water. People are required to stay between two flags set out. There is a constant watch for jellyfish and sharks, and both were spoted while we were there. There are shark nets but smoe get past. Because the ociean is not the safest place there are swiming pools located at the beach. It was a bit odd to see a swiming pool on the beach but it does make since with the water dangers. Going tot he beach to play in the pool just sounds strange.

For New Years eve we went to a really bad party. We were told that the hostels in the area were going to have a great party at a park. Well it turned out it was a receptioon style party at the Elks Club. Most of the people were over the age of 50 and just sat at tables talking. The first 2 hours were rough but after a time we started getting some ok music and took off dancing. I am not sure if we entertained the other geust or ourselves more. It ended up being a pretty good night. One of the girls in our group got her camera stolen (she got it back 2 days later) and then a man was found dead in the swimming pool at our hostel. We are not sure of the cause of death, but he was found floating in the water in the morning. It turned out he was on his honeymoon with his new wife, they had married on Christmas day. It was an odd day for everyone, no one knew how to process the event, but we did not use the pool for the rest of the vacation, out of respect and akwardness. The holiday season in South Africa is bad for driving and deaths. This season 855 people were killed in traffic accidents in South Africa and that is down from the 1100+ last year. We were safe and took all necessary procautions to return to Lesotho safely.

Durban has a water park called U'Shaka. It is a water park and aquarium in one. It was amazing, one of the best I have ever been to not so much for the rides but for the lack of rules. They serve beer in the park and there are no restrictions on where to drink, you can run without getting yelled at and children of any age can go down the slides. We walked through the entire aquarium in our bathing suits dripping wet, then ran from ride to ride. Rocio, Emily, and I went that day and between running on wet concrete and throuwing outselves down the slides 3 at a time (yes we all went together) I am surprised we did not get hospitalized. Emily got a huge lump on her head, I lost my sunglasses, and Rocio got a few brused but otherwise we made it through. I was getting ready to go down a ride with an innertuble and looked over to see a lady stick her 3 year old in an innertube alone and push her down the slide. That would never happen in America. And it was only 120R each ($16US). It was great, I am definitally going back to Durban for a long weekend to shop, watch movies, and go to the waterpark again.