Small Blessings in a Hungry World

Lesotho and Southern Africa continue to face a drought. (If this is news to you check out Dust in the Wind and Drought Update) Now that harvest time has come a gone, the impact of not growing food for this year is becoming more apparent.

Maizemeal with a sticker denoting its subsidized price. 

The Lesotho government, with help from some outside nations, has done two big things to alleviate the struggle of rising food costs in the country. For the next year, they are subsidizing peas, beans, and maizemeal grown and produced in Lesotho by thirty percent.

As my host family prepared to harvest their maize a few weeks ago, my brother gleefully told me that this year the government was not “taxing” their crops. Typically, the Ministry of Agriculture provides manure and pesticides to the villagers. Instead of paying in advance for these important tools, villagers “pay” the government with a certain amount of their crops. From my understanding, this varies depending on the yield and the number of people in the family, so that, in theory at least; each family comes away from harvest with enough maize and/or sorghum to feed themselves until the next harvest.

Because so few people were able to grow crops and the crops that did grow started months later than usual, the government is not taking its usual percentage.

Typically, my villagers harvest in blocks, working together to harvest each field in the block as a group. This community effort makes harvesting easier, especially determining the government’s portion. This year, however, each family is harvesting for themselves. For families with their own wagon and cows, that is not necessarily a hardship, however, for those without large numbers or livestock, it is definitely harder to accomplish without hiring other people to help.

The first load of maize coming in from my family's field.

The lack of tax on the crops combined with good field locations near the Caledonspoort River means that my host family’s harvest yielded almost as much maize as they brought home last year. I consider this to be a huge blessing as I have been worried about their ability to buy maize throughout the coming year. Even my brother Thabo had been wondering if they would be able to afford food for the year. When he told me we would get to keep all our maize, he was equally excited to relate that perhaps that means they would still be able to buy flour this year.

I am thrilled that my family has been blessed in this way even though such a feeling also yield guilt knowing thousands of families that are not mine are facing a year without any crops to celebrate. Still, I cannot help but celebrate that the family that has generously shared a home and love will have food to eat. 

PCV Profile: Nick

Nick hanging out with his youngest host brother Thabiso.

Within my training group, there are only fifteen of us spread throughout seven of Lesotho's ten districts. Only one person in the group lives within a few hours of me: Nick. As a result, he has become my closest PCV pal-both geographically and in actuality. Consequently, I have been to multiple special events at LASTC, his workplace, including graduation and a cultural day.

Although the youngest in our training group, Nick is possibly the most ambitious. With only four of our twenty-seven months remaining, Nick already knows his path for the next 7 to 10 years. In the fall, he will begin graduate school to earn a Masters of Public Health at one of the many schools smart enough to accept him (his acceptance rate is currently 100%!). Focusing on global health will help him prepare for medical school and a career as a traveling physician-think Doctors Without Borders.

Nick's background makes him a perfect match for a health-related role in Peace Corps Lesotho, yet, his assignment is predominately youth development. Despite studying neuroscience as an undergrad and holding his CNA license, in Lesotho, Nick has lived the life of an educator. He works for a tertiary school offering two-year certificates in agriculture and business. His work at the Agric Skills Training Center consists predominantly of teaching life skills, communication, and computers. While these subjects do not appear to be a perfect match for him, Nick has adapted his other experiences well to his current role as a PCV.

Nick with colleagues at the LASTC Cultural Day.

He uses his experiences as a founding member of his university's Toastmasters Club to enhance his public speaking classes. His passion for computers and technology have provided fodder for his computer classes and for helping the school staff improve grading programs and more. Life Skills classes have provided the most opportunities for his interest in health as it is impossible to teach life skills in Lesotho without discussing sexual and reproductive health and HIV/AIDS.

Aside from his primary assignment, which takes up a large amount of time, Nick regularly participates in Peace Corps activities. He has spent our entire service as the PC security representative for his district, which includes weekly communication between PCVs and the Peace Corps office. He is on the Information, Communication, and Technology committee, which he co-chaired last year. He also helped significantly with my Camp GLOW last year.

Luckily for the school, one of Nick's greatest flaws is also a huge asset: generosity. As the school has not computers for his computer class, Nick has spent the last two years teaching dozens of students using only his tiny, "ancient" personal laptop. This will hopefully change before he finishes his work in Lesotho as Nick and his school have recently been approved for a Peace Corps Partnership Program grant to build a computer lab with ten desktops.

As Nick prepares to head off to the University of Arizona for graduate school, it will be fun to watch his ambitions become realities.

Kathy and Nick are wild animals in the roadway after
hiking at Tsehlanyane National Park.

View other PCV Profiles.

Greenhouse Greatness

Despite the drought I recently wrote about, there is one area that my community’s agriculture is still succeeding.

In the 1980's, the community banded together to start what is known in Lesotho as an agricultural scheme. The chief found funding to get drip irrigation supplies and to build a large cistern.

Since then, a number of the community fields are worked as a group. The fields are still independently owned, however, unlike those used for staple crops like maize, these are planted as part of the community’s efforts. The produce is then sold throughout Lesotho. Buyers include some of the largest grocery chains in Lesotho and South Africa. Much of the proceeds go to improving the scheme and helping with school fees for those who need it, however, the field owners and the villagers working also earn a little bit. Additionally, villagers from all over the area come to the fields for u-pick produce at incredibly low pricing.

Women planting cabbage seeds.

Sometime in the last thirty years, funding also came through for a metal barn-type structure. In the last year, another funding source came through. Letseng Diamond Mines in Mokhotlong funded the construction of three greenhouses. They were completed only a few months ago and thankfully have not been damaged in the recent dust storms (I have seen some that were completely shredded, leaving only the metal frames intact).

The other day I was able to visit the scheme on a day when everyone was busy working. My friend and neighbor, ‘M’e ‘Maseqhobi (Ma-say-‘click-obi), took me to see the inside of the greenhouses. Two of them are currently housing tomato plants in abundance. They plants are as tall as I am and the tomatoes are the largest I have seen in Lesotho. They are not even beginning to turn red yet, so they will be huge by the time we begin harvesting in a month. ‘M’e ‘Maseqhobi promised to let me know when the tomato harvest begins so I can head down to pick my own. I did not want to stun her by begging to buy some green tomatoes for making fried green tomatoes, as looking at all those green tomatoes was making me drool a bit.

The third greenhouse is the seedling house for the crops being planted in the fields. On Monday, they were planting cabbage. Because men and women’s work is clearly defined in Lesotho, even in farming, the women were planting the seeds while the men carried the flats to the greenhouse. Once in the greenhouse, the flats are placed on frames to make caring for them easier. The tomato greenhouses have drip irrigation while the seedlings are watered by a man wearing a water backpack.

We may not be growing our staple crops yet, but at least there is still something happening at the fields.

Dust in the Wind

This time last year, I was learning just how much my roof could leak.

My wet path through the
donga last October,

This time last year, I was learning to tread carefully through the incredibly slippery mud to avoid skating across it.

This time last year, the village’s fields had been planting and the maize was already over a foot high.

This time last year, when I walked through the donga, I had to follow the path as a stream ran through the center of it. I had to rinse the mud off my feet at one of the many pools to avoid reaching town with mud-encrusted feet.

This time last year, I did my laundry at home, using the water my family collects from the roof.

The view from my house one afternoon last October.

This time last year, rainbows and afternoon thunderstorms were the norm.

This time last year, I used my umbrella daily to hide from the hot sun in the mornings and the drenching downpours in the afternoons.

Today, my roof has been repaired. I learned in September when we had rain, that it still leaks, however, it is not leaking right now.

Today, I find myself trudging through the dry and dusty sand instead of skating slipping through the mud.

Today, the fields are sitting, ready for maize that has not been planted yet.

My incredibly dry walk through the donga this morning.

Today, the donga is dry. All but one pool has dried up completely. That pool is muddy, algae-filled, and holds very little water right now.

Today, I continue my dry season routine, going to the spring to do my laundry as I pray that the slowing flow rate does not become a dry spring.

Today, I carry my umbrella, hoping to use it, however, it is usually too windy.

A few weeks ago, the Lesotho Disaster Management Authority sent out a text message to the country. It read, “Dry conditions are predicted country-wide from now up to March 2016. The public is advised to be cautious and prepare for the expected impacts.” Sometimes the media is attributing the drought to climate change, other times to El Nino.  Regardless, it is here and it is definitely an issue.

Instead of rainy afternoons and evenings, Lesotho is reminiscent of the dust storms scenes in Interstellar. Twice in the last two months, we have had damaging dust storms pass through, blowing dust through walls, windows, and roofs, ripping roofs right off of homes, and bending the sign metal like it were silly putty. Most afternoons, the wind picks up, blowing thunderclouds through without giving them a chance to even sprinkle upon us. The few rains we have seen last only long enough to pockmark the sandy ground, not long enough to moisten it fully.

While my American friends are filling my Facebook newsfeed with opinions about terrorism, refugees, and the political primaries, my fellow PCVs are posting stories connected to a life without water. My friends in the southern districts of Mafeteng and Mohale’s Hoek share anecdotes about not being able to do laundry, waiting in line for hours at the only working water pump, Peace Corps delivering water, and the like.

I am blessed to live in the northern part of Lesotho, which is typically wetter than those districts. As a result, we have not fully exhausted our water supply, however, the water shortage is already creating an impact. For the last month, the water for town has been turned off most of the time. This has made it particularly exciting when looking for a toilet while in town, where latrines are scarce.

The empty fields ready for planting.

I spoke with my chief recently about how well our village is prepared to deal with the repercussions of this drought.  My initial concern was whether he anticipated we would run out of water. He was quick to point out that the water flow has decreased already, however, not to a point where we need to start rationing. Our next step would be to turn off the taps, opening them for a specific number of hours each day and limiting each family to one or two buckets of water-20L to 40L.

Our conversation naturally turned to the part that is of greater concern, the staple crops. The maize, sorghum, and beans have not been planted yet because of the lack of rain. If it does not rain until March, what does that mean for food over the coming year? Will the maize have time to produce before winter? Will the people in the community who buy very little of their food be able to survive on what is grown this year?

It is too soon to answer the questions, but they plague me regularly as I watch the clouds dance their way across the mountains every afternoon. They concern me as I walk through the village and see the empty home gardens, waiting for the rain. They terrify me when I walk by the village’s tilled maize fields and the agriculture building with the bags of seeds stacked against it.

The field areas last year on a misty day.

The worst thing about living in a developing nation is that it is ill equipped to correct for this drought. Lesotho has water, lots of water. It is dammed up behind places like the Katse Dam and the Mohale Dam. Lesotho exports water to South Africa every day. It does not, however, have the infrastructure to get this water to its own people.

Toto famously sang, “Bless the rains down in Africa.” Today, we beg to be blessed with those rains! 

Mokete ea Temo: Celebrity Style

Remember that party I went to a few weeks back to celebrate the agricultural successes my community has had this year? The one I wrote about in Mokete ea Temo?

Apparently, the video recording was not just for the Ministry of Agriculture but was also broadcast on the Lesotho television channel. At least that it was Ntate Thabo, the videographer, told me when I bumped into him at the LASTC Cultural Day.

And the pictures that were taken were also shared at large. For a few weeks, my usually white-person, PCV celebrity status increased as people I did not know approached me not to say hello but to tell me they had seen me in the newspaper. Even the ladies at the grocery store in town have been excited to tell me they saw me in the paper!

I do not have television or get newspapers, so I was unaware of my increased celebrity status. A local shopkeeper had a copy of the newspaper, so I now have my photo straight out of a Lesotho newspaper! I will admit that I am grateful my name was not mentioned in the article!

Page 10 of  Informative with 'M'e Lerato, the woman mentioned frequently in the article.

Mokete ea Temo

Or, Agriculture Party...

In the late 1980s, my village started an irrigated agricultural scheme. Instead of each villager working alone to grow crops to feed their families and then maybe a bit extra to sell, they combined their efforts. Not only do they share the work and successes, but they now buy their seed in bulk, sell in bulk to shopkeepers as far away as Maseru and Mokhotlong, and as a group own a few pieces of farm machinery making their efforts more efficient.

While much of the money goes back into the scheme and to the families owning and working the fields, some is also used to support school fees and supplies for orphans and vulnerable children in the community. Recently, Letseng Diamond Mines agreed to give greenhouses and fencing to the scheme to help it continue to grow. These are currently being erected at the scheme's farm building.

This agricultural scheme and our current maize (corn) crop is so successful, that the local Ministry of Agriculture sponsored a mokete or party to both celebrate their accomplishments and record their activities to share with other communities.

Blending in with the maize in my Seshoeshoe.

As a result, I found myself donning my Seshoeshoe (se-shway-shway) dress and prepping for a party early one Wednesday morning. I was being blessed with a ride from the village to the fields where their party was to happen; thanks to the Ministry of Agriculture and the women who were responsible for cooking the food for the party being my neighbors. I had been told we would leave at 8 since the ceremony would begin at 9.

By 9:30, I began to worry that maybe I had been forgotten despite knowing the Basotho propensity for lateness and having not heard a car in my area (We are really far removed from the main village roads so car sounds are noticeable). I grabbed my stuff and headed over to my neighbors, relieved to find they were still cooking.

We hung out, snacked, sang, and chatted for two hours while they finished cooking. Finally it was late enough even they wondered where the car was. A few phone calls later and the Ministry truck was on its way. We piled in and as we drove out of the village with a truck full of excited women, they shrieked and blew whistles so everyone would know we were headed to party.

The ceremony started almost as soon as we arrived, because I was special enough to arrive with the fifteen women that were the party. We opened the traditional way; with a song and prayer. Then, we were brought on a tour of some of the fields with stops to discuss the seeds used, planting and weeding times, and other aspects to the growth of the crops. Throughout, a man from the Ministry videotaped the speeches, questions, and answers. 

When we returned to the tent, we sat through over an hour of speeches celebrating the work of various individuals, the group as a whole, and the like. Much of it I understood, although bits were in terminology far exceeding my vocabulary. There were breaks for song, as they are a critical part of any celebration. 

After the ceremony, we enjoyed nyekoe and motoho. Nyekoe (Ni-eck-way) is a local dish made of beans and sorghum. Extras that can be included are meat, vegetables, and various seasonings. I love it! Motoho is like the sourdough bread of sorghum porridge. It is another local favorite of mine.

It was a lovely party. I enjoyed being with so many of the energetic people from my village throughout the day.  

Follow up to this is available at Mokete ea Temo: Celebrity Style.