Note to Self: Peace Corps Lesotho Edition

I recently saw an interview of Gayle King on The Daily Show about her new book, Note to Self: Inspiring Words from Inspiring People. The book is based on letters to a younger self that people, mostly celebrities, have been asked to write. I was inspired to use the concept to reflect on my own growth and experience living abroad in Lesotho as a Peace Corps Volunteer for the last four years. So here goes:

Dear 2014 Beth, 

You are about to embark on an incredible experience. Stop worrying about what you are going to pack and stop wasting money on clothes to last you for the next two years. They literally sell clothes on the street in Lesotho. Do not fret about the investment in quality footwear though, you will wear out four pairs of shoes in the next few years. Also, the solar panel is a brilliant investment.

Instead, keep doing what you are doing. Maximize your time making memories with family and friends before you go. Invest in them as those relationships will sustain you through more than you imagine in the next few years. You are about to experience more happiness and pain than you knew was possible.

Just a typical day in Ha Rasekila at work with the
women in the community group.

You are worried about loneliness, feeling like an outsider, and isolation. You are going to let this fear motivate you through long language lessons. Even after you have a passable command of Sesotho, keep studying and learning. You will never regret taking the time to learn and practice the language. It is one of the greatest ways to show respect, bond with people, and to be professionally effective.

When you finish training and it is time to buy things for your new home, please buy the kitchen table you dream of. Do not let anxiety about surviving on the small Peace Corps living stipend keep you from this splurge. You will want that table for longer than you initially plan to be in Lesotho.

People will wonder at how you live without running water or electricity. In reality, going without those things is not what makes Peace Corps challenging. Spending money on data for Whatsapp calling and voice notes is always worth it. This is not a travel adventure. You will spend twice as long removed from your American family and friends as anticipated. Maintaining those relationships is worth the absurdly small investment in data bundles.

Remembering to stop and enjoy the goofy moments of life
with my great friend Luwi. 

Despite all the warnings in mandated Peace Corps security sessions, most Basotho are only interested in talking to you and welcoming you. Do not be stupid about your safety, but do not close yourself off either.

You will be in Lesotho a long time. In the end, your closest friends and supporters will be the host country nationals you get to know. Invest more time and energy in those relationships sooner instead of in the comfort of American peers.

Drinking Ricoffee (instant chicory root coffee) for the first six months is not worth the savings. Stock up on filter coffee that one time you shop in the capital. It is not integration to deprive yourself of this small luxury.

Take more photos of the everyday moments of your life and fewer photos at events. Some day you will return home and want to share the mundane aspects of life with people.

Trips home to visit family and friends are always worth the travel time, jet lag, and money. You will get to meet your infant goddaughter, see your ailing father, and keep relationships strong even after you decide to double down your PC service. Learn from the Basotho culture and put people first when your friend calls to announce and celebrate her engagement, promise to attend the wedding right then instead of changing your mind six weeks before the wedding.

Your house will be your comfort zone and break from the challenges of living in a foreign language and culture, but get outside of it! Walk around the community and greet people, go to community meetings and events, do your chores outside. Loneliness is of your own making. There are a ton of people just outside your door eager to welcome and befriend you. With time, your community will become your comfort zone. After you move away, returning to see them will be the best homecoming you can imagine.

My Basotho family has been a huge part of my life and
experience. I am so blessed to have been welcomed
into their lives.

Never fail to appreciate the moments people invite you into their family or cultural traditions. Such love and welcome may come at bad times or with expectations, but it is such an incredibly unique honor.

You will spend a large part of the next four years being uncomfortable. In your first year, it will feel like a great adventure even if some days, you will lose the battle and hide in your house. Although you will gain experience and get used to a lot of things, even after four years, you will still have moments that you have no idea what is going on, what someone is telling you, or what is expected of you. That is just the reality of life in another culture. Embrace it because those uncomfortable moments often open you up to some of your greatest experiences. You are not moving around the world to be surrounded by the familiar and easy.

Right now, you have days that you question whether you are doing the right thing by moving around the world for two years. When you receive your Sesotho name from your first host family, you will be reassured that you are where you belong as they explain in great depth that your new name means "God's will." You will question everything again during your first extension when you are blindsided by incredible loss and, ultimately, you will recognize that every step of your life's journey was leading you to Lesotho.

With the two men who have had the greatest
influence and impact on my life in Lesotho. 

In the next four years, you will develop such strong bonds with new friends and family members that you will question how you survived over thirty years without these people in your life. You will spend more time alone. You will learn just how much American culture influences your own thoughts and reactions to the world around you. You will fall in love with so many aspects of Basotho culture and with so many people.

In four years, when it is finally time to return to America, you find yourself right back where you are right now. You will wonder if leaving home and going to the US is really right path for your life. Have faith. In another four years, you can write yourself an updated version of this letter. It will, undoubtedly, be full of reassurances and growth. Until then, embrace people and experiences. Make the most of every moment.

With love,
               Thato, 2018

Top Five Experiences of 2018 (so far...)

My girl Tizzy and I pose after camp ends. 

5: Easter Camp

My current position does not put me in direct contact with kids nearly often enough anymore. As a result, doing Community Camp over Easter weekend was one of my favorite moments of the whole year. We had nearly one hundred children for four days and it was so much fun to interact with and observe them as they participated in ropes course, life skills sessions, and a talent show. Equally inspiring was getting to work with such incredible camp staff and volunteers. I love getting to watch these amazing professionals model incredible youth development skills and I love building strong friendships with them. 

Kayaking in Mozambique

4: Mozambique

In February, my friend Katie and I went on my last big Peace Corps vacation: Tofo, Mozambique. Our prime reason for picking this spot was that it is one of the best places to see whale sharks. It took us three days of travel to get there from Lesotho and we unfortunately did not get to see any whale sharks, however, the trip was still wonderful.

While Katie got scuba certified, I spent my days relaxing and walking on the beach, writing, wandering through the small beach town, and reading. It was the most peaceful and least demanding vacation I have ever enjoyed. Tofo Beach is truly stunning. I also took some time to bird nerd on a mangrove kayaking trip.

3: Herdboy Health Outreaches

My host organization has partnered with the District Health Management Teams in three districts in Lesotho to bring health services to herdboys in rural areas. Herdboys or balisana are a unique population in Lesotho.

They are marginalized from typical communities and social interactions through a lot of unfounded stereotypes. In my experience, most herders are wonderfully caring and friendly men-some young, some old. Due to stigma and discrimination, however, they also often live isolated lives and therefore do not get access to most government services including health care.

At the health outreach in Ha Popa, Thaba Tseka: beautiful views, a crazy bumpy ride in the truck with my colleagues,
the "road" we traveled, and a group of balisana that insisted we take pictures together. 

So far this year, we have done a handful of health outreaches to encourage balisana to get health care in the future. By bringing the services outside of the clinical setting, we have seen larger numbers of herders accessing medical tests including BMI, tuberculosis, blood pressure, blood sugar levels, and HIV testing services. Those that need additional follow up are being referred for additional medical care and the local clinics are following up to ensure that these services are received.

For me, these outreaches have also allowed me to get into more rural parts of Lesotho than I had previously visited. Our first outreach in Thaba Tseka involved a bumpy three-hour drive on something almost resembling a road to reach the village of Ha Popa. It was quite the adventure. The balisana there were so welcoming and fun to hang out with as they waited in line for their various health tests.

Grabbing a late lunch with my friend Pontso on a holiday.

2. Moments with Friends

This may sound like a generic cop out, but it is still true. Whether working or playing, I have had some of my favorite adventures with friends. The longer I live in Lesotho, the stronger my local friendships become and the more I cherish these relationships. The opportunities to catch up with friends over a meal or a football game is something I took for granted in the US. The reality is that making it happen between transportation challenges and rules that require I be home before dark make these moments much fewer and more precious.

With Rets'elisitsoe and his brother,
Ralethola (one of my best friends), after the
wedding. 

1. Weddings!!!

2018 has been the year for weddings. Every year I have been in Lesotho, I have attended a wedding or two. This year, however, I seem to be attending almost one per month!

First, there was my friend Rets’elisitsoe’s wedding in January. Here in Lesotho, the groom must be escorted into the church by a female family member. Due to some travel delays, Rets’elisitsoe’s cousin was running late and so he decided that I would  be his official escort and sit in the front row for the ceremony. It was an incredible honor to be quickly adopted into the family of two of my closest friends in country and to then participate in the wedding activities at his house the next day as well.

Then, a few weeks later, my friends Tori and Mpho-who married in America-returned to Lesotho for the traditional wedding ceremony that takes place with the groom’s family following a wedding. Tori completed her Peace Corps service in 2015, so the opportunity to catch up with her after more than 18 months and to be a part of this special day was truly wonderful. 

With Mpho and Tori at their wedding celebration in March

The third wedding I attended was in my community, but for the sister of someone I have known, respected, and adored for the entire time I have been in Lesotho. It was fun to hang out with the bridesmaids before the wedding, join the convoy of BMWs for the trip to and from the church, and help out with logistics and serving during the reception. 

With my dear friend Ototo at her sister's wedding in April

To keep up the wedding theme, I just returned from another friend's wedding. This one brought me out to Quthing, a district I hadn't visited before that is about three hours south of Maseru. Even better, I traveled and spent the day with some of my favorite guys in Lesotho. For once, I already knew both the bride and groom and am so glad that I was able to be there for their special day.

In Quthing with some of my favorite guys; Tlebele, Moseli, Ralethola, and Matseli. 

All smiles with the groom. 

Homecomings

After a long day of travel and work with herd boys, my colleagues drop me off in the rural village that Peace Corps currently uses for trainings. As I walk to my home for the night, villagers greet me by name and excitedly ask about my life and work. When I reach the house, the family comes pouring out; giving me hugs and talking over one another to welcome me home.

Over the last two years, I have lived in this village for approximately twelve weeks. I have lived with this family for only four of those weeks. Despite this, returning to such warm and personalized greetings feels like a homecoming. Somehow, my return to this village, which has never actually been my home, gives me a greater sense of belonging that the village I have been living in for nearly eighteen months.

Christmas Dinner 2017 in Ha Rasekila with my Basotho Family

It reminds me of returning to Ha Rasekila for visits and holidays. After a month of challenges and feeling disconnected in my own village and community, this homecoming reminds me exactly why I fell in love with this country.

The Basotho are some of the most genuinely welcoming people. They are quick to welcome and adopt visitors-foreigner or not. One of the first statements said to a guest is always “Rea u amohela” or “We welcome you”. But the Basotho welcome is not limited to words.

When you arrive early for a wedding or a funeral, you are immediately given a plate of food to tide you over until the meal that follows the (lengthy) ceremony.

If you compliment someone’s clothing, they tell you they will give it to you.

And, when you stay somewhere for a while, they claim you as their own.

I will always cherish the moments in the taxi rank when a man would come to hit on me and my villagers would immediately shut him down, telling him “Ke morali oa rona!” or “She’s our daughter!”

As I prepare for my close of service later this year, I cannot help but think about the idea of home, belonging, and how these are defined. As I have struggled with feeling connection in my current village, it has been glaringly obvious that home is not simply the building one lives within. My rondavel is my sanctuary, but that does not provide the connection and sense of belonging that makes a home.

Home is walking into a place or community and being welcomed by people who know and love you.

Home is watching infants become toddlers and children become teenagers.

My favorite twins-they weren't walking or
talking when I first met them, but now they
are quick to talk and play and will enter
preschool next year! 

Home is knowing the paths around you so well that you can observe them changing over time.

Home is connection to people and the place.

Home is where you return to for holidays like Christmas and Easter.

And, home is hard to leave. In less than three months, I will finally close my Peace Corps service and return to my country of origin. I am excited to return to the US and make a new home outside of Santa Barbara, California, where I will be teaching English at a residential boarding school.

Saying goodbye to the relationships I have made in Lesotho, however, fills me with dread. Luckily, Lesotho is now one of my homes and I know that this goodbye will not be forever. 

Dino Printing

Dinosaur footprints in Morija, Lesotho

200 million years ago Lesotho, like much of the world, was home to dinosaurs. There is even a dinosaur named after Lesotho: the Lesothosaurus. This dinosaur was a small, agile, herbivore, traveled on two legs, and would have been about thigh high on an adult human.

Thanks to a geography that includes a lot of visible rock formations, fossilized footprints are scattered throughout the country today.

Over the last six months, I have finally had the opportunity to visit two of these sites.

Morija Prints

Somewhere up there are some dinosaur footprints...

The first of these adventures was in Morija, a village in Maseru district. Along with three fellow PCVs, we set out early on a Saturday morning in April, mostly to beat the sunny heat. From my friends' house, it was a vertical climb to reach the prints. As it was late autumn, we were under constant attack by my least favorite thing about Lesotho--a weed called Blackjack that clings to clothing.

A Royal Birthday Celebration

At the top, LDF on parade. On the left, the King, Queen, Princesses,
and Prince promenade and wave. On the right, my favorite performers
do flips. And at the bottom, young men perform a traditional dance
while wearing the yellow for Mafeteng.

July 17th marks the birthday of his Majesty, King Letsie III, King of Lesotho. As such, it is a national holiday here. Every year, the official celebration of his Majesty's birthday changes venue so that each of Lesotho's ten districts can participate in the excitement.

This year's birthday celebration took place in Mafeteng, the district just south of the capital. Since it was less than two hours from my house, I jumped at the chance to join the party.

The public ceremony was nearly four hours long. It began with two Lesotho Defense Force [LDF] helicopters and an airplane flying over the stadium. The helicopters each had a Lesotho flag flying underneath them. There were ceremonial shots fired, but as an integrated Mosotho, I was not yet at the stadium when this happened. I say the helicopters and heard the shots during my walk from the taxi to the stadium.

The first portion of the ceremony was dedicated entirely to showcasing LDF. The band played and marched, three ceremonial units also marched. It was an impressive site and I took photos like a tourist seeing my first giraffe on safari.

The paratrooper's parachute includes the Lesotho flag.

Following the LDF parade, we were treated to my favorite part of the day. Despite it being cold and incredibly windy, two different teams of four paratroopers glided directly onto the field. Thanks to tracers, we could watch in awe during their approach. For anyone who has been to Blue Angels air show in the US, this may not seem that impressive, however, keep in mind that in Lesotho our airspace is empty most of the time. Occasionally low flying military or private helicopters cross our paths, drawing even those of us accustomed to air travel outside to wonder at who is going where.

After the paratroopers, the final aerial excitement was a low flying salute by a single plane. A friend and I had been catching up and therefore not listening to Sesotho words the announcer was speaking. We, therefore, were blown away when the plane drowned out our conversation by flying thirty feet over our heads!

Oops! I did it again!

Over three years ago, I arrived in Lesotho and I fell in love...not with a person (sorry gentlemen and Aunt Betsy who is convinced I will come home engaged!), but with the country, its culture, and its amazingly open, welcoming, and friendly people.

Last year, when the close of my Peace Corps service approached, I politely said, "Kea hana!," or I refuse. I extended my service and stuck around for an extra year as a Peace Corps Volunteer Leader. 

For me, the first two years of my service were overwhelmingly wonderful. Living in my rural village, working with villagers in Sesotho, experiencing a new culture...none of it lived up to Peace Corps' tagline as "The Toughest Job You'll Ever Love." 

Although my "job" itself still is not difficult, this third year, by comparison, has been a lot tougher mentally and emotionally. I said goodbye to the PC volunteers I was closest to as they returned to America. I spent July to December traveling constantly back and forth between Peace Corps trainings and my village. My brother left suddenly to work in the mines. I then had to say goodbye to my beloved Basotho family and villagers. I spent more time in the US than anticipated when my father suddenly passed away at Christmas. I returned to Lesotho ready to integrate into my new community only to face security issues while readjusting to life without my father on the other end of the phone. 

I cried only twice during my first year here, whereas my third was punctuated by emotional moments in both Lesotho and America. 

Despite these challenges, I cannot imagine being anywhere else. The things I shared a year ago when I announced my extension are just as valid today as they were then. 

And so, with glee, I am happy to share that I've done it again!

I have once again extended my Peace Corps service including my work with both Peace Corps and Sentebale until August 2018! 

Five Reasons I Can't Leave Lesotho

Wildlife and Waterfall: 5 Days in Victoria Falls

My friend and fellow PCVL, Catie, and I are walking down a road chatting away and scoping out Baobab trees. When we had been closer to the river, I had startled Catie by pretending I saw a giant crocodile approaching, causing her to scream. Suddenly, glancing past her, I stopped short...instead of jumping her, I whisper, "Holy crap! That's an elephant."

Because I had jumped her earlier, Catie didn't believe me. But once I convinced her her to glance to our left, she too saw the giant back end of an elephant, not thirty feet away from us. We didn't even pause for photos, too nervous about being that close to an elephant without the protection of a car. We speed walked away whispering jokes that ultimately led to our Instagram hashtag of the trip: #HowWeDiedToday.

Catie and I spent our first few days in Victoria Falls avoiding the town's namesake. We spent far more time checking out wildlife than the falls.

We went to a private resort to watch vultures dining...

Just a hundred vulture friends pushing each other around for a scrap of cow.

We enjoyed a sunset cruise on the Zambezi River upstream from the falls...

A hippo yawn is an impressive sight!

Superstar Sentebale

Training partners on finding potential donors during a
recent resource mobilization workshop.

My new role, as of my return to Lesotho, is still working half of the time as a Peace Corps Volunteer Leader and now includes working half of the time with Sentebale.

Sentebale is the Sesotho word for “forget me not.” The NGO Sentebale was founded by Prince Seeiso of Lesotho and Prince Harry of the United Kingdom. It was started over a decade ago after Prince Harry visited Lesotho for two months during his gap year between high school and university.

Before I began working with Sentebale, I thought very highly of the organization. I had an impression of Sentebale as being one of the highest functioning NGOs working in Lesotho. After almost two months with the organization, I am excited to say that my impression was accurate and the organization is even better than my initial impressions.

Easter Reunions

Family Photo-Mme Masekila, Abuti Mokhesuoe, Abuti
Thabo, Abuti Polau, and me. We are only missing
Abuti Sekila and my replacement, Ausi Mosa.

People often say you can’t go home again. In December, I stared at the familiar Boston skyline as my plane landed and agreed. After being gone for the last two and half years, people felt like home, but America did not.

Friday, however, I disagreed profoundly. The moment I got out of a car in Botha Bothe, a man greeted me by name. As I shopped for food, people did double-takes, exclaiming when they realized it was, in fact, me.

Once I finally made it to my village—after a three-hour wait for a taxi—the homecoming really began. Within twenty minutes, I had seen my supervisor and another woman I worked with, two of my best friends and my mother. Everyone greeted me with joy, hugs (These are not typical, which only made them even better), and celebration. As my mother and I walked home, people stopped us to comment on my return and to be sure I remembered them after my four and half months away.

Loss of Light

I hear the laughter of little boys outside my door. Putting down my book, I go to the open door and find four boys between three and six. They are all carrying sticks. Three are laughing at the one who has just nabbed a peach out of one of the peach trees on my lot.

Culturally, I know that he should have asked before coming into the yard and taking peaches. But, this is my first weekend in my new village and admonishing small children is not the first impression I want to make. Instead, I great the boys and ask them what’s up.

The continue to giggle and start moving towards the road. When it is clear they are not going to speak Sesotho with me and they are moving on, I head back inside.

Twenty minutes later, I pop out again, this time to retrieve my solar lights. I had hidden them in the tall grass two feet from my open window to charge them up. It is Sunday and I do not anticipate being able to charge them again until Saturday as my new job will have me working a forty-hour week at an office.

Instead of three Luci lights, I find only one half eaten peach.

My heart stops. I immediately know what has happened and even know who did it. But I do not want it to be true.

Return to a New Home

My new, rounder, thatch roof

After my home leave was more than doubled by emergency leave and a medical issue I needed to deal with before returning to Lesotho, I finally returned to my African home on the first of March.

Except, it was not my home. My real home is a rural village in Butha Buthe with my host mother and four brothers. In my real home, everyone already knows my name and calls out greetings across absurd distances. In my real home, everyone knows me and I know them. In my real home, the young children come running to greet me repetitively until I am out of range.

But, right before I returned to America in December, I left that home. Now, my new home is an adorable rondavel with fancy aluminum windows and a windowed door. It has fresh yellow paint and clean, shiny linoleum over cement. The thatch is clean and does not leak. Physically it is a huge improvement over the heise I have adored for two and half years.

And yet, as homey as the house is, returning to a country that feels so much like home but a village that feels so foreign is not quite the same as coming home. My comfort in Butha Buthe allowed me to forget the first sensations I had when I arrived in Lesotho and that village. The awkwardness of needing to ask questions in broken Sesotho in order to figure out where the store is or when a taxi would be coming were so far behind me, I had dismissed them entirely.

A panoramic photo inside my home. It's magazine-ready!

By coming into my new village, I am gaining a new appreciation for the challenges of Peace Corps service. A popular tagline is that Peace Corps is “the toughest job you’ll ever love.” While I do not think it is the toughest job I have encountered thus far, the reality is that entering a community in a different culture and trying to integrate is a profound challenge.  Apparently, even after gaining a profound comfort in the culture, language, and country; that challenge is not diminished.

In my new community, children are still awed by the idea that I can speak to them in Sesotho slang. Instead of interacting, they giggle. Adults either glow over my ability to speak or reassure me that I will be even better in Sesotho soon, unaware that I am speaking to them in mostly English because that is the language they began our conversation in. I was to wear a crown that highlights my time spent living and working in Lesotho before I came to this new village. I want them to recognize that I am not fresh off the plane.

Despite those frustrations, I am discovering some wonderful universal truths about village life in Lesotho:

When you have a problem, even strangers will jump in to help.  
Somehow I, along with many other PCVs, recently missed the warning that our bank would be completely offline for three days over a weekend. This meant that our ATM cards were useless pieces of plastic-our accounts were completely inaccessible so we could not even use the cards as credit or debit cards. I had gone to town expecting to withdraw cash, so I did not have money to buy my food for the week, pay for my hair appointment, and pay for taxi rides home and back to town again in the future. I mentioned my challenge to two guys who immediately offered to drive me home to make sure I got there safely. It was only about 7km out of their way, but still an incredibly generous and caring thing to do as well as a wonderful reminder of my favorite Basotho idiom: Motho ke motho ka batho.

Society is social.
In my old village, no one had electricity and most people cooked outside on open fires. Although I am still living without electricity, more people in this area have access to electricity and the ability to live their lives indoors. Despite this, they still spend time every day walking through the village or sitting outside greeting neighbors as they pass. They still take the time to stop and chat with one another, even when they do not know each other.

Rocking my Seshoeshoe dress just before moving
into my new home.

People love to see their culture embraced.
When I first moved in and met the chief, I worse a Seshoeshoe dress. When I draw water, I carry it on my head to bring it back to my house. Since that meeting with the chief, countless people have commented on how nice wearing the local dress is. When people greet me and I am carrying my water, they comment nonstop on how I am Mosotho.

As Moshoeshoe Day approached, people were ecstatic to find that I know exactly who King Moshoeshoe I was and his significance in the history of Lesotho. They especially love when I note that I am following Moshoeshoe, who was in the Butha Buthe region before he moved to the mountain that hugs my village.

Peace Corps has a great reputation.
Within a day of moving in, I learned that my house held a PCV named Mariah over a decade ago. I have learned a lot about Mariah since then. For example, Mariah, also known as Ausi Rethabile, did not like country music and was from the west coast.

In many ways, Mariah has paved a path for me. Because villagers loved her, they welcome and love me.  They remember her while reassuring me that I belong. Because Mariah integrated well and worked hard in this community, they understand my presence differently than if I were their first volunteer. It does not matter that it has been over a decade since she lived here; she has made it easier for me to develop relationships that recognize my role as a PCV. Considering I am here for a shorter amount of time, I really value the role she is playing in my own integration. This was something I had not experienced in my village in BB because I was the first volunteer that had lived among them.

It is pretty neat to see the way that individual volunteers are remembered by their communities. I take pride in being part of an organization that leaves such a positive impact. 

Three Photo Thursday - 1 December

This week marked a week of transition as I moved from my beloved Ha Rasekila in Botha Bothe to my new site near the capital. A highlight of saying goodbye was the farewell ceremony that my organization gave me on Sunday. Here I am towards the end of the ceremony with members of MCCC in the kobo (blanket) and mokorotlo (traditional hat) that they gave me. I will have more on the ceremony itself in the near future, so stay tuned!

Three Photo Thursday - Thanksgiving Special

Happy Thanksgiving to my American readers!

In honor of Thanksgiving, combined with the many special moments I have been enjoying as I work on saying goodbye to my village, this week's Three Photos are things I am incredibly thankful for over the last two and a half years.

My brothers, my host mother, and I walked to our grandparent's house last Saturday. Not only is the walk itself absolutely stunning, but given my impending departure, time with this family is particularly precious! I have been so blessed to have this family as my own for the last thirty months.

Abuti Polau, Abuti Mokhesuoe, and me at my grandparent's house in Maloseng.

I enjoyed yet another wonderful meal with my adopted Indian family over the weekend. We exchanged early Christmas gifts, ate too much delicious food, and then stepped outside for photos. An hour later, we were still posing as the sun set! I have been so blessed to have this family in my life and to be so included in their activities!

Saying Goodbye Part 1

As I prepare to leave my village for the last two and half years; saying goodbye has become a regular part of my daily life.

There is no easy way in Sesotho or English to explain to my local friends and family just how much I will miss them when I depart. Last week I attended a community gathering and tried to say in words exactly how important the community is to me.

To translate for you, I said:

Three Photo Thursday - 17 November

The time for goodbyes has begun. In ten short days, I will be leaving my beloved Botha Bothe and moving to my second site-nearer the capital and Peace Corps Office. The goodbyes this week began with my final Teen Club for HIV positive youth at Baylor's Pediatric AIDS clinic. After more than two years of monthly meetings, I am definitely going to miss these incredible, bright children. This photo is with Ausi Lerato, the program manager. Although I have some photos with the teens, in the interest of maintaining confidentiality, those are just for me! 

Three Photo Thursday-10 November

As I mentioned on Monday, the Chicken House finally reached completion! Here is one happy Beth last Saturday when the cage installation was completed. The little red things are the drinkers. Once the chickens arrive, I will never again hang out under these cages!

Basotho girls and women carry water and other heavy things on their heads. The effort and neck strength training begins in childhood as girls mimic the women they see. Here my favorite twins and regular playmates were hanging out playing with 1L buckets while their grandmother and I discussed work. After using the buckets at seats, balls, and more, they started placing them on their heads. As soon as they could let go, they excited began calling for their grandmother's attention to show off how grown up they are. I love these two!

Camp BRO Butha Buthe-Empowering Men in Gender Equality

Boys practice leadership by leading one another through a
minefield of over one hundred chairs.

It is Saturday morning. I stand up to add a few questions to my friend and fellow PCV Rachel's session on power in relationships and consent. 

She had started the session with a fantastic game in which some of the boys had all the power and the remaining boys were powerless; in this case, forced to do whatever the other boys told them to do. As her discussion wound down, it seemed like not everyone has followed the jump from their feelings during the game to the discussion in sexual relationships. 

I ask them why girls do not walk along near sunset. "Because they will be raped Madam," a bright young man named T'sepo tells me. I then ask why girls will travel longer routes to avoid bars or isolated areas. A multitude of boys jump in, replying, "They will be raped."

I explain that unwanted sex is painful-physically, mentally, and emotionally. I ask them if they want their mothers, their sisters, and their future wives living through something so devastating. I share that Lesotho has the third highest rate of reported rapes in the world. The boys quickly point out that most women do not report because they will be beaten, stigmatized, or even killed.

I remind the boys that they have been chosen as leaders for Camp BRO-Boys Respecting Others-and as leaders in their schools and communities, they are the ones with the power to change things.

I see nods of agreement with all these things until a boy in the front row politely asked, " But Madam, what if a girl is torturing me by wearing a short skirt?"

From there, the discussion gets lively as my Mosotho friend Julia and I try to encourage their discussion and open their minds.

Three Photo Thursday-6 October

The luggage from half of the trainees

 Over the last two months, my role as a PCVL has had me making many treks to Maseru in order to help prep for Pre-Service training. As of this week, the new trainees have arrived and their adventure begins.

I spent their first few days in country helping to welcome them. This included casual conversations, unloading their luggage, and getting them through their orientation stations.

It is exciting to finally have these folks in country. I am looking forward to getting to know them better and making new friends. Nerd that I am, I am even more excited for their training!!

At the end of my orientation time, I accompanied the Healthy Youth trainees to their training villages. It was really fun to pull in, with horns honking, and see their new host families so excited to see them.

The women were ululating, blowing whistles, singing, and dancing with joy as they welcomed their trainees to the village.

It was fun to see this more than two years after my own welcome to Lesotho. After so long here, it seems so natural to see this level of excitement and noise when people are happy. When I first arrived it seemed foreign and novel. Similarly, the language and the songs which once seemed overwhelming is now normal as I listened to the conversations and sang along to the songs.

Often I ignore how different this was from my normal, as it has become my everyday. Watching it through the new trainees' eyes allowed me to realize how much I have grown and adapted since my first day meeting my first host family.

My brother Thabo leading his choir

Last year, as a Form D (grade 11) student, my brother told me about performing in the Form E celebration. He then asked if I would attend his Form E celebration in September 2016. I vowed that if I was in Africa, I would be there.

And so, on Friday, I found myself at his Form E celebration. It was more amazing than any other moment I have experienced in Lesotho thus far, probably because my Abuti Thabo is such an incredible young man.

I enjoyed music and dancing, listened to numerous speeches, and enjoyed lunch. Look forward to more on this great celebration in the next week!

Chicken Coop Construction: Burglar Bar Busts

Angry Beth waiting by windows clearly
devoid of burglar bars.

Six weeks ago, I excitedly paid the deposit to the second man intending to install the burglar proofing for our chicken coop. After the failed installation attempt in August-thanks to no electricity and no large generators available anywhere near my village-I was excited to be working with Buthe Buthe Aluminum and Glass, a business that appeared to be more professional and more established with an actual storefront, truck and generator of their own.

As we discussed the details, my new burglar bar man set dates to measure the windows and to install the burglar bars within the week. I cleared my calendar to accommodate the dates and was thrilled to think of how fast this business would be getting the work done.

Somehow, my hope lasted up until last Monday at 1:30. It was the eighth time in five weeks I had cleared a full day on my calendar for the burglar bar installation. It was the eighth time I called multiple times throughout the morning only to be told he would install on another day. Anticipating two weeks away from site for various Peace Corps work and the arrival of our chickens, I was done!

I firmly told him that he needed to do the installation as promised, that day. He, instead, offered me a refund of my deposit.

I grabbed my stuff and angrily stomped the thirty minute walk to get a taxi to town to collect my refund. Luckily I did not bump into anyone, as I was ranting and raving aloud the entire way out. When I arrived at his shop, the owner had “left for Maseru.”

“Oh no he didn’t,” I told the tiny woman manning the shop as I pulled out my phone. My stress level and anger were astronomical as I called him again. Many conversations occurred via phone between us and between him and the small woman. As my anger literally boiled over and caused liquid to leak from my eyes, the woman tried to help find a solution that would make me seem less upset. I finally agreed to leave the shop as he would be sending me money through my phone by evening.

Just about anyone could enter this house,
even crazy Americans without the keys.

With chickens due “in September”, my stress level was through the roof. Thanks to Butha Buthe Aluminum and Glass’s failure to actually do the work promised, chickens could arrive before cages or burglar protection are installed. That evening, my brother mistakenly asked about my day. As a result of me telling him the drama that had unfolded and my extreme frustration, I also taught him a new idiom: spitting nails. He and I both laughed about it.

A week later, I still did not have my deposit back. A large male PCV accompanied me in case I needed intimidation. I was much nicer than I would have been last week and managed to get my deposit back without resorting to intimidation or calling Peace Corp’s Safety and Security Manager. I am still a bit stressed but mostly am relieved that the chickens did not in fact arrive in September.

Meanwhile, the Peace Corps staff swept in to help me out. The staff that ensures the PCV homes are protected called up their guy and helped arrange installation of our burglar bars…hopefully this week. Somehow I am still optimistic despite the multiple failed attempts.

MCCC’s Egg Laying Chicken Project has been in development since March 2015. After many delays, MCCC and I were able to write a successful grant proposal for a VAST grant through Peace Corps. VAST grants are funded by PEPFAR to help with HIV-related work and OVC (Orphan and Vulnerable Children) care. It is due to MCCC’s work with OCVs that qualified us for the VAST grant. Otherwise, we would have applied for a PCPP [Peace Corps Partnership Program] grant and would have been asking for assistance in funding this grant proposal. I encourage you to consider supporting other PCPP projects.

Posts about this project include:

 Workshop Woe, Busiest of Birthdays, Checking Out Chickens, A Day with Bo-’M’e, Chicken Coop Construction Day One, Day Two, Day, Three, Day Four, Day Five, Weeks 2 to 4, Weeks 5 and 6.

Three Photo Thursday-29 September

Back in January, one of my villagers began construction on her huge house. I mentioned it at the end of Constructing Dreams. For eight months, the walls sat, completed, waiting for the roofing process to begin. To roof a large cement block house like this first involves building up the walls anywhere the roof will by high, before actually attaching the roof.

I had begin to think I would not see the house completed, however, this week the roofing supplies arrived and workers began the roofing process. Here the workers are adding the cement bricks that will support the roof on their first day of work. 

Although harvest in Lesotho was months ago-in July-much of my family's maize is still sitting on the cobs waiting for my host mother to have time to remove it. She is simply too busy with work, caring for the boys, and church to also spend hours separating the dried corn from the cobs.

This week, however, my nkhono or grandmother came to help as the family needed to grind more maize into powder for papa.  She spent two days just sitting in the shade working away-occasionally yelling at the pig for trying to come and sneak some food. It was great to have her visit and a boon to my mother to have the help around the house.

Over the course of the political primary, many Basotho would ask me about the American election and when I would be returning to vote. Having watched a number of villagers who work abroad return home for their own special election in February 2015, their question made sense to me. In order to avoid voter fraud, Basotho must vote in person.

Those conversations have highlighted for me, yet again, how lucky I am to be American. Obviously, I would not be a US Peace Corps volunteer living in Lesotho if I were not American, but, that aside, I am able to vote from Lesotho with little hassle. I signed up for my absentee ballot early on in the primary process (although sadly, not early enough to cast my ballot in New Hampshire in January). From there, I simply waited until my town clerk emailed it to me. Forty-eight hours later I found myself researching the New Hampshire gubernatorial candidates and presto, I have voted…five Tuesdays before America goes to the polls. And, since there is no postal strike in South Africa this year, unlike in 2014’s election months, my ballot should make it home and get counted!