Looking back to the first time I
seriously considered serving in the Peace Corps, in September of
2002, it is pretty stunning to consider the various directions my
life has gone leading up to this moment: Swearing in as a Peace Corps
Volunteer. This marks not only the end of an intense ten weeks of
Pre-Service Training, but the end of a life wondering “what if I
did that...”
Our last week of training was filled
with trips to Maseru to get our bank accounts settled, tour the Peace
Corps office, buy supplies for our new homes, and conclude training
sessions. In the midst of this, we also had our Sesotho Language
Proficiency Interview [LPI] to determine if we had indeed learned
enough Sesotho in ten weeks to survive on our own. I went into my
exam exhausted. I probably should not admit this, but I had basically
stopped studying five days earlier, satisfied that I would pass and
unwilling to pressure myself into being the best speaker any longer.
My exhaustion stemmed not from training, but staying up until 1 in
the morning socializing the night before. My exam took about half an
hour, during which time I spoke Sesotho with a lovely woman, telling
her about my background, my future site, training, that I like to
cook, and much more. I spoke...a lot. But I left knowing that I had
not spoken my best Sesotho and that I could have done better.
When the results of our exams were
announced, we were thrilled to learn that everyone had passed. Some
of my peers had struggled to learn Sesotho, so this was great news.
My friend Jody did the best on the exam, earning himself a score of
Intermediate High with a Star and the responsibility of speaking at
our swearing in ceremony. I, along with four others, scored
Intermediate High. When I think of how much more comfortable I am
with speaking Sesotho in ten weeks than I was after two years of high
school French, it is rather stunning. And my high school French
teacher was phenomenal!
The morning of swearing in, we got an
extra hour before we needed to meet the bus. I used this time to
clean and pack as we would be heading to sites the next day and I
still had much to do. My friend Jenea came over to finish getting
ready. For the first time since reaching Lesotho, I pulled out
earrings and make-up. I donned my Seshoeshoe (se-shway-shway) dress
and dashed outside to dump my bathwater feeling self-conscious as it
is more fitted than most of my clothes.
My anxiety about how looked dissipated
the second my host Me saw me. She began shrieking and dancing,
telling me I looked beautiful. Her reaction was better than any full
length mirror and upped my confidence for the day. She then lent me a
kobo (blanket) and helped me put both it and my head scarf on
correctly. I was now ready for a Basotho-style celebration.
When we arrived in neighboring Ha
Taaso, the village we had attended most of our training sessions in,
there were multiple tents set up around the building we had been
using as our school. The inside of the building had been transformed
into a nice dining area for the feast after the ceremony. We were
given plates of chicken and stampo to tide us over for the morning as
we milled about and took pictures together.
Finally, our training director and
country director gathered us to share the schedule of events and
words of wisdom for the day. More pictures were taken, we were given
water, and we met the new Charge d-Affaires for the US Embassy in
Lesotho. John McNamara is an RPCV and was particularly excited to be
swearing us in. He arrived in country after we did. I thought it was
neat to be the first group of PCVs he has met in Lesotho.
And then it was time to start. Our
seats were in a bit of an odd spot. The tent we were given was to the
side of the podium and had walls on three sides. While this kept us
warmly protected from the winds, it meant we could not see or be seen
by the Basotho during most of the ceremony. It would have been lovely
to see their reactions to some of the various speakers during the 2+
hour ceremony. I cannot recall every speaker that we had or the many
words of wisdom and congratulations they shared. It was a long but
special ceremony with dozens of speakers, a few songs, and even a
time to receive parting gifts from our host mothers.
When Charge d'Affaires McNamara got up
to swear us in, we finally left the shelter of our tent. As a group,
we swore in as Peace Corps Volunteers. We then were each called forth
individually to receive recognition and handshakes. The many Basotho
present cheered as no Americans can for each one of us as we went
forth and received our papers and handshakes before posing for a
quick picture.
Other highlights included Jody's speech
in Sesotho (so glad it was not me!), when we sang a song in Sesotho
and the keynote speaker, a minister in the Lesotho government. He
must have been educated in America, as his English did not appear to
us to have an accent (unlike most Basotho English, which is accented
with British and Sesotho at the same time). His speech was
wonderfully entertaining and stressed how special it is for us to be
from a country that takes its wealth and success as reasons to help
in the international community. He charged us with being proud of our
country and proud of ourselves for our work here in Lesotho.
Throughout his speech, he fluidly alternated between English and
Sesotho so that everyone could enjoy his words of wisdom.
After the ceremony concluded, we were
sent into the building for our feast, which was quite a feast. One of
the Healthy Youth volunteers from last year's training group works
with teen mothers. Her teen mothers had catered the entire meal and
done a tremendous job of it too. VIPs were fed inside, while there
was also a feast outside for the rest of the guests.
As things settled down, we left and
headed to the nearby bar for a celebratory drink. I was excited to
get home, however, as I had some gifts to share with my host family.
I loved being able to give them things that I had brought or made for
them and felt a bit like Santa giving with no expectation of
receiving anything in return. My host father, however, could not
accept this, so I was given a traditional Basotho hat they had made.
It is something that I will treasure always.
The next morning was surprisingly
challenging. Saying goodbye to my fellow volunteers was not that
difficult as we are all able to communicate on WhatsApp and know we
will see each other repeatedly over the next few years. Saying
goodbye to my host family after another late night of socializing,
however, was more painful than I had anticipated. After we had loaded
my belongings into the back of the truck, I hugged my Me and shook
hands with my Ntate, grateful for the sunglasses that hid the tears
that threatened to fall.
As we drove away, I could not help but
feel I was leaving Tsitsa prematurely. Usually, when I leave a place,
I know that it is time to go and while the goodbyes are difficult,
the act of departure is not. Driving the now familiar road in the
reverse of our path from the airport ten weeks ago, I reflected on
the changes and growth in myself and my understanding of this country
and my own role in it. After an hour or so, I felt better about
leaving Tsitsa and began to gain excitement for my arrival in my new
village.
By the time we reached my district and
sites began to look more familiar again, my usual sense of optimism
and capability had returned. As we pulled off the main road, I began
smiling at the school children as they walked home. Finally, we
pulled up to my house. There were a handful of villagers there to
unload the car. I was only allowed to carry the eggs into the house.
Everything else was taken care of for me, reminding me of both my
welcome in this community and how much they have done in order to
ensure that I am happy here.
1 comment:
Another beginning adventure! Love your posts - thank you for sharing your adventure!
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