My Heroes: Three Inspiring Basotho Women

Throughout my Peace Corps service, I have constantly been amazed and impressed by the strength, passion, and commitment to community I have seen in Basotho women. Whether the women of my former host organization, my host mother, colleagues, or friends, I have been awed and learned so much from these women over the past four years.

Today, it is my pleasure to introduce you to three incredible, strong, inspirational women that I have had the luxury to work with and befriend over the last few years. 

PONTSO

Some of the GLOW 2015 Leadership Team:
Sarah, me, Pontso, and Megan at the end of camp.

I first met Pontso in 2014 at Camp GLOW [Girls Leading Our World]. I was immediately drawn to her enthusiasm when addressing the campers during a career panel. She passionately spoke about getting her Masters in Sociology and the challenges she had overcome in her life to get to that point.

Over the next year, we worked together regularly on the planning team for the 2015 Camp GLOW. She was invaluable in ensuring the most vulnerable girls were included in camp and that we created the most dynamic and applicable topics. During camp, she again blew me away with her readiness to help out in every way imaginable, on top of taking care of her own responsibilities.

Since then, we have transitioned from work partners to friends. It has been fascinating to follow her journey. She is a manager with the Ministry of Social Development. She has applied and been accepted to multiple international programs including participating in the World Festival of Youth and Students in Russia last year, was a 2017 Young Global Changer chosen as part of The Think Summit in Germany, the African Union’s Youth Volunteer Corps (like Peace Corps but for countries in the African Union), and most recently the US’s Mandela Washington Fellowship which is the top opportunity through the US State Department’s Young African Leaders Initiative started under the Obama Administration. She was also honored as one of Africa's Brightest Young Minds in 2017! 

A recent newspaper article about Pontso's volunteer development work. 

In addition to these great opportunities, she continues to volunteer her time to improve the lives of Basotho people. When she was living in Masuoe, an area on the outskirts of Maseru, she became passionate about the impacts of climate change on the local environment. Even though she has moved from that community, she is working with community members, empowering them to work to improve the impact of soil erosion and safety on their community. 

LERATO

Lerato and I goof off together
after teen club in 2016. 

Lerato works at Baylor College’s Pediatric HIV Clinic, where she provided support to patients and coordinates the Teen Club Support Group for HIV positive youth. She is a firecracker of a young woman. At teen club, her bond with the members of the club was constantly evident. She challenged them in positive ways to embrace their situation and take responsibility for their own health.

In addition to being great at her paid job, Lerato is also an outspoken HIV+ advocate. She regularly gives talks around the country sharing her own story and challenging stigmatization of HIV. She was first diagnosed with HIV in 2007 as a teenager. When she shares this story, it’s hard. She does not shy away from her mother’s negative reaction and the loneliness and isolation she felt when she first found out she has HIV.

Voting via SMS for the Finite Awards will finish before the
Ceremony and Gala in August of 2018. 

Thankfully, her story does not end in 2007, with heartbreak. Lerato is a strong and healthy woman. She adheres to her Antiretroviral Therapy. She and her mother repaired their relationship. She has twin daughters who are now seven and HIV negative as a result of successful Prevention of Mother-To Child-Transmission. She uses her experiences and challenges through motivational talks and to help the teens she counsels and supports. 

Last year she helped organize a large and unique HIV testing event. It involved a fun walk, motivational and educational speakers helping to de-stigmatize HIV, HIV testing, and lunch. Almost four hundred people participated in the event with 154 being tested for HIV. 

This year, she is a finalist for the Survival Heroes category of the annual Finite Women Appreciation Awards, which is an award offered by Finite Magazine in Lesotho to women. I, for one, definitely think this is a well-deserved nomination and wish I was still going to be here to attend the Gala with her in August!

LINEO

Lineo and I strike a pose in traditional and modern
cultural dress at the Cultural Day she organized.

I met first met Lineo because she was a counterpart for my fellow volunteer, Nick. She is a faculty member at Leribe Agricultural Skills Training Center. In addition to this, she is incredibly active in the community. She planned and coordinated a huge Cultural Day for the school and local community in 2015.

Last year she qualified for and participated in a regional YALI [Young African Leaders Initiative] Summit in Civic Leadership. She has made the final rounds for the Mandela Washington Summit twice in recent years. Currently, in addition to working to improve agricultural efforts and food security if rural areas of Lesotho; she also spearheaded a project called Barali (daughters in Sesotho).

Barali is a project to decrease school dropouts due to early pregnancy. Working with local Child and Gender Protection officers, she visits area schools to teach young women about their sexual and reproductive rights ad HIV. As she gets to know the young women at specific schools, she works with local leadership to combat the challenges these young women face such as early marriage, gender based violence, etc.

Through Barali, she is fostering dialogue, working with many local partner organizations, and empowering adolescent girls to have the confidence to make their own decisions. She held an event in May to encourage girls to be bold enough to buy their own condoms; something most young women in Lesotho are hesitant to do. Over five hundred local youth participated in the event.

I cherish the moments we steal to reconnect
now that we live further apart. It is always
inspiring to hear what Lineo is working on. 

Currently Barali is hosting a campaign called “Hear My Story” which is sharing stories about women who have had abortions. Abortion is illegal in Lesotho, so women and girls who feel they must have one typically do not have them done by medical professionals. They are often dangerous and lead to medical complications. Seeking medical care after an illegal abortion can also lead to prosecution. The effort of this campaign is to highlight the challenges, stigma, and desperation that women and girls encounter as a result of becoming pregnant.

Even Lineo’s facebook page has become a tool for discussion. She often starts conversation about the impact of perceptions on our sexual health. It’s truly amazing to see the way she fosters important dialogue about culturally sensitive topics on social media.

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. 

It Could Have Been Me: World AIDS Day

Happy World AIDS Day!

24.9% of Lesotho’s population currently is infected with HIV. Think about that for a moment.

It is absolutely mind blowing to look around yourself at a meeting, party, football match, or funeral and think that statistically one-quarter of the people you are looking at have HIV.

Somehow, as I consider this, it does not shock me then that in one of my four years in Lesotho I had a possible HIV exposure.

Within minutes of my potential exposure to HIV, I was desperately trying to control the runaway adrenaline in my body as it caused my legs to twitch while rationally reminding myself through Google and memories from Peace Corps trainings that I still had ways to protect myself from the virus.

As I researched PEP-Post Exposure Prophylaxis, I struggled to contain my panic. Everything I read warned that PEP is difficult and has many side effects. There were many reports noting permanent liver or kidney damage. There were even more highlighting that patients were unable to complete PEP due to side effects and therefore would still end up HIV positive. Reading these reports, I was terrified and furious at the series of events that put me in this position.

PEP is actually one of two options available to prevent HIV infection. PEP typically consists of taking Antiretroviral (ART) medications for 28-30 days, depending on the type of medications taken, after a single incident of possible exposure.  The simplest explanation of how it works is that the ART medications prevent HIV replication in the body until all cells that may have been exposed die off.

The alternate option is for people at consistently high-risk exposure to HIV. This is called PrEP or Pre-Exposure Prophylaxis and consists of ART taken throughout the period of high-risk (e.g. having a long-term sexual partner who is HIV-positive). Scientifically, it works the same way that PEP does, however, the person must continue to take it correctly until a month after exposure risk ends.

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.

Peace Corps' Bang, A Response

Children at a local school perform plays they wrote
highlighting gender norms. The focus and measurements for
the lesson was connected to gender and culture, however,
teambuilding, creativity, and improved comfort speaking
English publicly are all unmeasured and unreported
outcomes as well. 

A week ago, Thomas Hill published the blog "The Peace Corps: A lot of bucks for very little bang?" In his piece, he claimed that Peace Corps, if it continues, should stop being a program of the US government and instead be funded privately. Over the last week, I have dwelled on the words of Mr. Hill. I hesitated to write a response, as I did not want to draw more attention to a post I disagree with and assertions I believe to be unfounded.

His argument is that Peace Corps is nearly twice as expensive per person as Fulbright Fellowships and has not shown itself [historically] to be effective in development efforts. Mr. Hill asserts, "the program’s co
st ($410 million annually) coupled with its inconsistent development track record and the agency’s insistence that it operate independently from U.S. foreign policy should raise questions for Congress about whether an entirely taxpayer-funded model is sustainable and a good use of limited resources."

It is important to note that the 2016 fiscal year budget for Peace Corps, at $410 million, still comprised only 1% of the federal budget for that year. Cutting or changing the funding system for Peace Corps will do nothing to alleviate excess federal spending. It would be the equivalent of trying to decrease the health risks associated with smoking by throwing out two cigarettes from every case smoked. Additionally, Fulbright Fellowship costs are reduced due to direct support from hosting governments and organizations.

The only positive aspect of Peace Corps that Mr. Hill acknowledges lays in cultural exchange. He acknowledges that cultural exchange going both directions is Peace Corps' greatest strength, however, he trivializes the fact that this comprises two-thirds of the mandate of the program as set forth in the Peace Corps Act of 1961.

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

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.

Moshoeshoe Day

Police horses en route to Thaba Bosiu
in preparation for the
Moshoeshoe Day ceremony.

Every March 11^th, Lesotho celebrates Moshoeshoe Day. King Moshoeshoe I is the father of the Basotho nation.

In the 1800s, Basotho were spread out throughout the land now known as Lesotho and Orange Free State in South Africa. Moshoeshoe was the chief of the Bakoena or Crocodile clan. He and his clan were living in the area of Bothe Bothe, including on Thaba Mopeli (a mountain near the camptown of Botha Bothe today) and at LiphofungCaves.

As Zulu clans were pushing west, they began encroaching on Basotho lands. Thaba Mopeli was proving itself to be difficult to defend as it did not have water on the top of the mountain. Moshoeshoe and his clan walked from Botha Bothe to Thaba Bosiu. Unlike Thaba Mopeli, Thaba Bosiu has natural springs on its flat surface, making it a better and safer place to build homes. It turned out that Thaba Bosiu was an unusually secure site to defend. The name Thaba Bosiu means Mountain of Night. It was given this name after Moshoeshoe and his warriors successfully defeated the Zulu warriors at night. Legend has it that they burned herbs that made their enemies hallucinate and think the mountain was growing taller as they climbed the steep, rocky path to the top.

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. 

Lessons from my Father

In the summer of 2014, a Peace Corps peer’s father passed away suddenly. Considering my own had been battling cancer for seven years by then, it was a reality check for me. The next day, I wrote this in my journal:

Our welcome packet [for Peace Corps Lesotho] made no pretenses about the death we would face in Lesotho. The stark words said, “you will make friends and they will die during your service.” Although honest, they did not really prepare me for the three deaths in the training village that have happened in the month we have been here or for my language instructor and my host mother to both leave the same weekend to attend family funerals.

What about the suddenly too real possibility of a family member or friend passing away during my service? In the States, I felt mentally prepared for the possibility. I remember my Peace Corps interview two years ago and acknowledging something catastrophic occurring within my immediate family being the only reason I could anticipate terminating my service early.

Last Thanksgiving, when I said goodbye to Grandpa for the first of three times I thought, “This might be the last time…please God, don’t let it be.” In March, during my visit with my father, ha asked, “How do you feel about going away with me sick?”

My answer, which clearly pleased him, was, “It’s been seven years, life cannot be on hold forever.” While that answer still rings true today it feels like a bigger sacrifice right now. It is more than twenty-four hours of lonely travel to get home.

The Peace Corps response to my peer’s situation has been great. Once she heard what had happened, they got her on the first available flight home. She gets two weeks of emergency leave before she needs to discuss returning with Washington.

I cannot help but wonder, were I her, would I return? Mid-service, I think I would give returning a try. But, right now, during training, I genuinely do not know if I would. Would two weeks out of training leave me ill prepared for the future in Lesotho? Would I have the stamina to deal with training and integrating while also mourning and coping? Would I be abandoning my family in their hour of need? It is hard to say what I would decide. I can only pray it does not happen and offer my deepest condolences and support to my friend and her family.

Family dinner shortly before I was to
return to New England.

Two and half years later, this journal entry has become real. Although he had more energy and vitality than when I left for Lesotho, my father passed away suddenly just before Christmas. Thanks to providential timing, I spent a week visiting an active and (relatively) healthy father during my home leave. Then, just before I was to say goodbye for nine more months, the story changed. Instead of laughing together, well wishes, and teasing about having not written a blog post all month, there was an ambulance, ICU, exhaustion, and tears.

Throughout it all, I could not help but wonder in awe at the timing of it. The entire situation is one I would rather never face, but a few weeks earlier or later and it would have felt so much worse.

Despite that, I am now facing the same questions I asked when my friend’s father passed away one month into my Peace Corps experience. Although my training is complete, I have just moved villages and am back to needing to get to know people, my community, and a new job. Do I have the stamina to do those things while I mourn and cope with my new reality? Am I abandoning family when I am needed?  I have some incredible and wonderful friends in Lesotho-some Peace Corps, some Basotho-are they the people I need supporting me through this? Are they physically close enough to me to even be capable of supporting me?

Despite these questions plaguing me, I know I will return. Grief, mourning, shock, and sorrow are not an excuse to abandon life. And the reality is, my life, for now at least, is in Lesotho.

So, I will continue to embrace the life that made my father proud. I will continue to write about it as I hear him tease me whenever I lapse. I will continue to explore the world and seek the adventurous paths that made him as envious as he was proud.

Throughout my service, every time someone else has faced a family emergency, it has been an unwelcome reminder that life in America continues and life includes wonderful moments but also terrible ones.

For those of you who never had the opportunity to know my father, here are my words from his ceremony a few days ago: 

Saying Goodbye Part 2

My host mother, 'M'e 'Masekila and me before the ceremony.

My host mother comes to the door in her red Seshoeshoe dress. I immediately stop what I am doing, “’M’e, U motle hakahang!” (Mother, you are beautiful right now.)

“Che, ausi Thato, re batle hakahang,” she replies. (No, ausi Thato-that’s me-we are beautiful right now.)

We grab our things and head out the door, walking through the village together. As we approach people, my mother ululates loudly before we begin the customary greeting process. After our greetings, before they can ask, she proudly tells them that we are going to a party for me because I am finished my work.

As the community building and chicken house come into view, I see Bo-‘M’e busy bustling around outside. Then, the ululations begin in chorus, calling everyone to see that I am coming. As we get closer, these incredible grandmothers I have been blessed to work with begin singing and dancing towards us. They surround us and sing for me before guiding me to continue on into the hall. They parade behind me, still singing until I sit down at the table in the front of the room.

I look out at the empty chairs and chuckle to myself. Two years ago, I might have thought that nobody cared, but now I know better. Village ceremonies never start on time. My mother and I were over an hour late. Everyone else now knows to come because of the volume of our arrival.

I sit in the seat of honor and look at the space that has seen so much of my work. Along one side of the room are fifty bags of chicken feed, awaiting the very late arrival of our chickens. Dotted all over the white ceiling are dirty imprints of the soccer ball we used for the Grassroot Soccer HIV programs I did with teenagers. I can look at the chairs and identify by color whose house each one came from. It is surreal to realize the time to say goodbye has finally arrived.

Soon the room is full enough that Bo-‘M’e and the chief decide to start the ceremony. Ceremonies in Lesotho all follow the same structure. First, there is a short hymn followed by a prayer. Then, the MC, in this case, ‘M’e ‘Majustice introduces themselves, the purpose of the event, and explains how the ceremony with proceed. From there, the MC invites various individuals to speak about the person or topic for the ceremony. In between each speaker, the MC announces the next speaker and then everyone joins in singing a song as the speaker comes to the front. At the end of the ceremony, instructions for the meal are given, a prayer is said, and the formal portion concludes.

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! 

Ngoana oa Trump? (A child of Trump?)

"Whatever America hopes to bring to pass in the world
must first come to pass in the heart of America."
                             -Republican President Dwight D. Eisenhower

Hopping out of a car this morning, the driver turned to me and said, in Sesotho, "Uena, u ngoana oa Trump" or "You, you're a child of Trump."

I rolled my eyes and told him I was sad about the election. As I walked away, I nearly cried.

I have been in Lesotho for almost two and half years, serving the people of Lesotho and the government of America.

In 2014, I was here for what the US State Department defined as a "coup-like event". The military assisted in removing the Prime Minister from power, however, they did not claim control over the country. We PCVs were forced to sit around in South Africa for three weeks before we could return to our homes.

In 2015, I got to watch this small, peaceful, resilient country hold special elections. After a week of Basotho listening to the radio nonstop, coalitions were formed and a new part gained the top office.

The political situation here is still not perfect-no political situation is. Newspapers print headlines daily calling attention to drama within and among the top political parties. Even today there are stories of a possible peaceful change of power in the parliament.

All of this politicking, however, lives only in the political sphere. At no time have I heard a single statement about a single politician's personal attributes, home life, or families. Every comment I have heard has been strictly about their work, action, beliefs, and role in politics.

America, we could learn something from Lesotho. 

In 2016, the tables turned. Instead of me, the American, seeing Lesotho's electoral process, the people of Lesotho were watching America's political process...closely.