Motho ke Motho ka Batho

I stood along the main road in Mokhotlong, holding onto my hat to keep is from blowing away in the breeze. After fifteen minutes, I had seen no vehicles-taxis or private cars-pass. Finally, a truck rounded the bend and I flagged down the driver, thrilled to learn he was heading south, past my village in Butha Buthe. I hopped in.

We chatted for a few minutes as he drove at harrowing speeds on the many twists and turns that skirt the mountains of Mokhotlong. Between shifting, he reached into the small shopping bag between us and emptied it of the two cold sodas hiding within. He immediately gave me my choice between the two.

I tried to turn him down, pointing out that he had bought both drinks for his long drive down to Maseru. He would not hear of it, saying, “Motho ke motho ka batho.” As I chose between the two cans, he asked if I knew the translation of this popular Basotho saying.

I had not noticed it previously, but was able to translate it word for word to mean, “A person is a person of people.”  He commended my translation but explained that it truly means that a person is a person because of people or how he treats people. If a person does not take care of and share with people, then he is not a person at all. How we interact with one another is what makes us human.

A few weeks ago, when I interviewedmy Chief, this phrase returned as he adapted it, “Morena ke morena ka batho” or a Chief is a Chief because of people. He said this as he explained that his job as Chief is to protect and serve the people of the village.

In reality, motho ke motho ka batho explains so much about Basotho culture. Hospitality and generosity are pivotal to the culture in Lesotho. The idea that someone would have something and would not share is absurd; whether food, a place to sleep when traveling, money when it is needed, or help with work. It is part of what makes Lesotho’s rural villages such an incredibly warm and welcoming place to live.

I saw this again last weekend, as I attended a family wedding in Maseru. Before we left, I asked my host mother if we needed to bring anything  with us for the weekend. This is a common question I ask fellow PCVs when traveling to visit them, as often it is critical to bring my own bedding and preferred I bring some treats from whichever large town I pass through during my travels.My mother said I needed only my outfits for the wedding and the party the next day.

My grandfather and brother sit in the shade talking after
dining on a delicious meal. 

As soon as we arrived at her cousin’s home in Maseru, we were given seats in the shade and a plate of food. As other wedding guests arrived, they too were given plates.  After the wedding, we returned to the cousin’s house, where a number of people were already sleeping on the floors of the bedrooms with cozy blankets they had been given by the host.

Soon, another cousin drove us to her house, where we too were given comfortable sleeping accommodations. In the morning, even though she had not planned to host anyone, she fed us breakfast before returning us to the mother of the bride’s home. Once again, we were given shaded chairs and plates of meat and bread upon our arrival. We were again fed a few hours later during the party. And then, when it was time to depart, we were sent home with freshly slaughtered meat and a number of biscuits for each of us. In total, I was fed meat by the bride’s family six times, not including the actual wedding reception. Considering I rarely buy meat because of its price, I was blown away by their generosity, which is, apparently, the norm.

Motho ke motho ka batho is not about equalizing those that have and those that do not. Instead it is about constantly caring for one another and facing life together. Those that can afford to share do, but so do those than cannot afford to do so. The idea is that by caring for one another, everyone will always be cared for.

When I was sailing professionally, we always stressed the motto “Ship, Shipmates, Self” to the teens that came on our programs. For Americans, the idea of putting a boat and the other people on the boat ahead of oneself is hard to grasp, as we are taught from an early age that we should take care of ourselves. After a few days, however, most people on board would adapt to the idea that we accomplish more by working together and taking care of one another. At the end of programs, teens would always share how dramatically this concept impacted them and changed their perspective on their role in their communities on land.

I cannot help but wonder how dramatically the world would change if all people were to adopt the concept of Motho ke motho ka batho. Imagine the community spirit that would develop if we all spent our time taking care of one another. What can you do today to bring a little Basotho culture and Motho ke motho ka batho into your community?

High Places

In the large construction truck, we wound our way up a road filled with curves every 100 yards. I kept my eyes moving around, trying to see every crevice and vista the mountains allowed. At 2820 meters or 9252 feet, Moteng Pass astounded me with its beauty, beckoning me and making me question why it took over a year for me to make my way to the Lesotho highlands.

My friend and host for the weekend, Lisa, insisted we disembark the lumbering beast we rode up in when we reached Afriski. Afriski is one of seven ski resorts in all of Africa, the others being in South Africa, Morocco, and Algeria. It is firmly summer now, although Mokhotlong saw some snow only a week ago, so skiing was out of the question. We did not stop for snow, but something else fantastically cold: Amarula Vanilla Milkshakes.

According to Lisa, Afriski’s Sky Restaurant has the best milkshakes in all of Lesotho. She was, of course, correct. They were two delicious…meaning we both indulged in two of the wonderful treats made with hard serve ice cream. The Sky Restaurant also boasts the highest restaurant in Africa, sitting tall at 3010 meters or 9875 feet.

Because taxis between Butha Buthe and Mokhotlong do not pick up passengers along the route, we returned to the main road and set to work flagging down a ride…or rides as it turned out we needed three different trucks to make it to her village: a 4x4 loaded down with an immense amount of food, a flatbed delivery truck, and finally a two tanked gas truck with the fanciest interior imaginable.

 

Finally reaching her village at dusk, we hiked down the mountain to her rondeval. It was just dark enough that we had no view and I had little concept of how far down we traveled. The next morning, I was blown away as I stepped out of her home. The mountains were simply gorgeous.

The incredible view from Lisa's village

My first full day in Mokhotlong was spent at Lisa’s going away party with the staff from her school. Lisa is an education volunteer who has spent the last two years teaching math at a secondary school. She will finish her service and leave her site in just two weeks. Her going away party was a testament to the great relationships she has built with her colleagues over the last two years and was tons of fun with an incredible mountain backdrop.

The next morning, we determined another high point destination: Sani Top. Sani Top and Sani Pass are the Mokhotlong border crossing between Lesotho and South Africa. The two immigration offices are separated by a long, unpaved road that begs for four wheel drive. There are even 4x4 tours of the road, because it is so demanding.

On the edge of the Lesotho side is the highest pub in Africa. Although not as high as Sky Restaurant, it is still at an impressive elevation: 2874 meters or 9429 feet. It also boasts significantly better views than the Sky Restaurant since it looks out over the lower elevations in South Africa.

As it was a weekend and it sits next to South Africa, it was also a lot busier than the Sky Restaurant had been. A number of people were there as part of tours or staying for the weekend. While I celebrated finding my first Bloody Maria in Lesotho, Lisa and I worked on a project we are doing for Peace Corps, maximizing the access to electricity and it turns out free WiFi! Our discussion garnered the interest of another American, who it turns out works for USAID in Mozambique and is an RPCV from Cameroon. Our sitting area became a hub of Americans in Africa in no time, as we were joined by a traveler from California. Since I spend very little time in the parts of Lesotho that draw travelers, this marked the first time I have bumped into American travelers outside of the airport!

When we returned to Lisa’s village, we made a point to watch the sun as it set behind the mountains. With the breeze, the New Englander in me was in love with the brisk temperatures.

My last morning, Lisa’s father told me I could not leave Mokhotlong. A huge part of me agreed. I love my village and community in Butha Buthe, however, the combination of vistas, the even stronger sense of community brought on by the isolation the mountains create, and the cooler temperatures entranced me.

Back in training, when we were given the chance to give input on our site assignments, I suspect the only Mokhotlong site was lower on my list, although it has been long enough I cannot remember. Knowing me, I probably was intimidated by the idea of living so remotely and at elevation. I spent years living at sea level and in the foothills. I had never lived at the kinds of elevations that we see in Lesotho. Now, after being here as long as I have and having visited elevation, I know that I am strong enough to handle both the distance and the elevations. Even the arduous climb from Lisa’s home and school up the mountain to the road was more bearable than it appeared when standing at the bottom.

And so, I returned home, thanks to a pickup truck that picked me up faster than a taxi could arrive. As Lisa put it, with so few cars traveling the roads, it is hard to be picky. As we wound our way back through the mountain passes, I continued to be in awe of the views. When we finally blew back down Moteng Pass into the lowlands again, I could feel oppressive heat start to fill the car despite the breeze the open windows created. It was another 90-plus degree day in the lowlands, the temperatures seem more brutal than last summer thanks to our current drought. As I sweat my way back to my home, dressed for the cooler, breezier highlands; I wondered again why I had taken so long to get myself up to the highlands and why I so often doubt my own capabilities.

Much like I often laugh at myself for waiting over a decade to feel confident enough to commit to living alone and abroad for two years, I now laugh at myself for doubting whether I could have lived in the highlands. While I recognize my adventurous spirit, clearly I still need to recognize some of my own strength.