Four Lesotho Reality Checks

Before moving to Lesotho, I was intentionally open-minded, setting very few expectations for what my life and Peace Corps service would be like. I am, however, human, so a few hid in the recesses of my mind, waiting to be blown away during my time in country. Here are a few of them:

Goat on a rock

Expectation: Life in Village is Bucolic and Quiet

Reality Check: Village Life is LOUD!

I do not know where the idea that country equals and peaceful began, but it is a sham perpetuated by artists and poets for centuries. The orchestra of sounds outside, and consequently inside, my hut at any given moment includes the calls of a menagerie of farm animals, the yelled greetings of people passing by, the load conversations occurring at the Chief’s office next door, my family members singing and talking inside their house, children playing, and-if it is sunny-the family’s solar powered radio thumping at full volume. My hut is usually louder than my freshman year dormitory! In the middle of the night and into the morning the chickens crow and dogs bark. In the morning and evening, the bells of the sheep and goats ring out as they leave for and return from grazing for the day, donkeys bray at random simply to be heard (Donkey in Shrek is not the only chatty donkey). Nothing about living in a rural village is quiet.

Expectation: Basotho people are shorter than many other people

Reality Check: Stunting is real

The internet fed me this lie before I arrived and it stuck, especially after I arrived and found my 5’4” self to be tall. But, there are many tall individuals, even in families that are predominantly short, showing that it is not necessarily a genetic predisposition. In the last year, I have learned more about stunting. Stunting occurs when young children  get enough to eat but not enough nutrient variety. The most visible impact of stunting is in fast decreased growth rates, however, it also impacts brain development decreasing capacity for critical thinking in adult years. In three Lesotho districts, including Botha Bothe, the stunting rate is over 40%. So, although the children we weight each month are, for the most part, within UN weight guidelines, they are not getting the nutritional variety needed to support true growth.  I now recognize that this is where the idea that Basotho are short stems from.

Expectation: In Lesotho, I Will Not Be Able to Buy Things I Want or Need

Reality Check: We Live in a Global World

When preparing to move to a tiny, land-locked, poor country in Africa, I mentally thought, I am packing for two years! After living on boat for a few months at a time, I could not help but use the same packing mentality I did when sailing: bring everything you need with you because you may not have the ability or opportunity to get it later. This is a foolish concept. First of all, it is impossible to pack everything one needs for two whole years anywhere in the world. Secondly, it is possible to buy almost anything in Lesotho and if not in Lesotho then in South Africa. The only true exception I have found to this so far is Spaghetti Squash seeds, which I was grateful to receive in a care package (although, yes, the care package coffee is better than what I can buy in Maseru...thank you everyone!).

As a large woman, I was worried I would not be able to find cloths that fit me, despite seeing heavy Basotho women in videos and photos of Lesotho, thus I bought and packed an absurd amount of skirts and tops for my two year experience-some of which I still have not worn. I listened to serving PCVs lament the frigid winter temperatures in Lesotho and packed multiple pairs of long johns, ignoring where these volunteers originated from and that I am typically warmer than others. I finally pulled them out two pair during my second winter in Lesotho, but I could have packed just one and been fine. All in all, I could have saved my money and bought much of what I needed here rather than stocking up on things in America in case I might need them in Africa.

A student shares a way to reduce
HIV rates in Lesotho on
World Aids Day 2015.

Expectation: HIV Will Be Visible Everywhere

Reality Check: HIV is a Silent Killer

Admittedly, there is signage about HIV Testing and HIV Prevention everywhere in Lesotho. As the country with the second highest HIV rate in the world, 24%, that is to be expected. At the same time, however, HIV itself is generally hidden. Thanks to stigma and discrimination, people do not acknowledge if they have HIV. Because HIV itself does not kill people, when someone dies from an HIV-related illness, only they illness that actually kills them is discussed as a cause of death. Many people choose not to take ARVs (Anti-Retro Virals) because they do not want people to know they have HIV. Others refuse to test because if they do not know, it is better than confirming they have it.

Within the Peace Corps Healthy Youth Project, much of our work is education related to HIV in hopes of overcoming these barriers to testing and treatment, particularly in youth. Unfortunately, behavior change and ending stigma are slow processes that will take significantly longer than the time any individual volunteer lives in the country. 

Moments Make A Day

I quietly close the gate, trying futilely to be invisible as the villagers at the pitso all look at me. I am skipping this community meeting in favor of attending the send off for the seventh graders at the school where I teach Life Skills.

As I walk, I am greeted by two women. After the proper greetings in Sesotho, one says, “When you go?” in English. I look at her, clearly confused, so she repeats herself.

Still lost, I ask in English, “how did I go or when did I go?”

She breaks into a beaming smile, says yes, and then thanks me profusely before heading on her way again. As I walk away, I am stupefied. Was she asking me how my trip was? When my trip was? Or When will I leave Lesotho for good?

Has she asked any of these questions in Sesotho, I would have had no problem understanding her, however, she wanted to use her rudimentary English. This is probably how my Sesotho comes across at times; close but completely incomprehensible.

***

The message the students shared with me at their
closing ceremony: "We would like to thank you Madam Thato
for everything you did to us as Grade 7. We promise you that
 we are going to pass. We will always miss you a lot. Thankx."

Some schools have big parties to celebrate the departure of the seventh graders following their national exams. My school, however, cannot afford to feed everyone, so our send off is subdued. Each student receives some sweets, fruits, a package of cookies, and a loaf of bread. The teachers, including me, each say a few words.

The students rise and thank me in unison for my work with them this year. Then, they sing for us. Finally, the principal challenges them to succeed in high school and lets them know that their results should be in before the school closes in a month.

And with that, they are done with their free education. They will not know until later whether they have passed their exams or will return to Standard 7 again next year. Those who pass will be able to go on to secondary or high school, if their families can afford it.

I know these twenty-seven teens will hold a special place in my memory. Being a small class, the oldest, and the most proficient at English; I got to know them better as individuals than my other classes. And still, I realize how little I know some of them outside of the school.

Only today I learned that the most proficient English speaker in the class, a lovely, bright young woman, is an orphan. She currently lives with her uncle, who takes little interest in her and her education. The principal and I discussed her intended meeting with the uncle. She is going to challenge him to help his niece apply for the government sponsorship so that she can attend secondary school. Over the past few years, teachers at the school have helped find uniform items for this student so she could continue to attend. Assuming her uncle helps her apply for sponsorship, she will need all new uniforms next year. I suggested also pushing him to speak with the Ministry of Social Development as they are starting to help orphans with uniform items and sometimes even with food so that they can attend secondary school. Hopefully, she will be able to continue attending school, as she is simply too bright to stop at such a young age.

***

Later in the day, I want to a friend's. On my way, I bump into another friend of mine. After weeks without seeing one another, we catch up on life. I continue on my walk happy to have such great friends and interactions in my village.

My friend's husband is in the hospital, his cancer having spread to his bones allowing a simple fall to break his hip. I offer her support and commend her energy despite being divided between the shop they have, tending her children, and visiting her husband. Even though life is so difficult for her at the moment, she gives me a cold soda from her stock when I depart the shop.

***

When I return home, I anxiously check my email. This morning I sent a friend in Charleston an article for Charleston Daily. He is a gifted writer and published poet so I am nervously waiting to see what he thinks of my writing. I want to jump for joy when I see his response telling me that the article is just beautiful. Not long afterwards, he emails me the link to the published article.

***

In the evening, my brother, Thabo, comes in for my Sesotho lesson. We talk and bond for an hour before the other brothers join us for our movie time. After my brothers say goodnight, I prepare for bed, overjoyed by the little moments that make each day different and special in this beautiful country.  ***

My Organization: MCCC

In my early months at site, everything was so new that I had to share it immediately, and I now realize that I was remiss in fully explaining the organization I am working with. So here is a little bit of background about this incredible volunteer-based organization:

MCCC or Community Care Coalition started in 1996. At the time, WorldVision was trying to form community support groups throughout Butha Buthe. MCCC was made to support five villages. Due to Peace Corps safety considerations, I will abreviate them to Ha Ma, Ha Ra, Ha Ta, Mal, and Mpa. MCCC continues to work closely with WorldVision today; especially when it comes to meeting the needs of OVCs.

Of the five villages in MCCC, my community of Ha Ra is the largest and more centrally located. When given a grant from WorldVision to build a community building, Ha Ra made the most sense. The Community Building has one large gathering room and three smaller work rooms. It is located next to one of the village's water pumps and to the road in and out of the village.

Today, MCCC has 26 members from the five villages; 24 are women and two are men. All members are volunteers. Despite being started by WorldVision, the organization has no funding source. Their mission is to help the sick, poor, and orphaned in the five villages. Because MCCC is all volunteer, it has only a loose organizational structure in the form of a leadership committee of five woman. Despite being five women, it does not represent all five villages as two live in Ha Ra. There were originally more people in the leadership committee, however, some have died and not been replaced.

Current projects include making and selling Aloe Vaseline, growing and selling produce, and serving as a conduit between donors and orphans. In the past, MCCC worked with the people in the villages to ensure all homes with sick, poor, or orphaned people had keyhole gardens. These are still heavily used.

Challenges the organization currently faces:

• A lack of business and marketing skills to budget and maintain the Aloe Vaseline project.
• A lack of money—helping to provide for people's basic needs costs money and right now there is no source of income.
• Working with youth and children to help them succeed despite their challenges.
• Even for the members, village life is difficult and resources are scarce, so regular volunteer work and effort from everyone is asking a lot.
• WorldVision will be leaving this area in September 2015. The majority of resources provided for local OVCs and for MCCC currently come from WorldVision (e.g. Maize seeds and fertilizer). WorldVision has been the greatest provider of resources for MCCC thus far. In theory, the Lesotho government will be taking over the fulfillment of these needs, but the transition is already creating anxiety.

The organization has big goals for the future. Their primary goal is to create a sustainable income generating activity so they are able to fulfill their mission far into the future. In this way, they are eager to begin a piggery and an egg-laying chicken project. They would also like to have the OVCs create items to sell by sewing, knitting, and crocheting. Lastly, they would like to find more sponsors so they are able to do more in the community.

WorldVision has expressed their great pride in MCCC for successfully getting a PCV of their own. It takes a lot of work before a PCV is placed with an organization and most organizations this small are unable to fulfill all the requirements. Knowing how much effort the members of MCCC and the five communities have put forth in gaining me as a PCV really motivates me to be a great volunteer and resource for them. It also fills me with a sense of responsibility to ensure that I give back more than they have invested in getting a PCV.  

Thatch to Patch

My thatcher inspecting the roof. 

Nearly a decade of sailing professionally trained me well. I learned to sleep deeply through a variety of sounds and weather; trusting my subconscious to hear when a sound was not right so I could rise and deal with the problem. Thus, I could sleep soundly through the squeaking of a fender being squished and rubbed between the ship and the dock but immediately awaken when that sound changed to the quieter, insidious sound of the wooden vessel scraping against the dock.

This skill has served me well through many overnight thunderstorms during the rainy season here in Lesotho. With up to a dozen leaky spots in my thatch roof, I would have quickly exhausted myself trying to ensure drips were benignly landing in basins and buckets. Instead, I usually slept well, trusting my sleeping self to hear the differences in sound between drips landing on plastic laminate, the plastic tarp saving my bed from becoming a waterbed, the plastic topped table, and the aforementioned plastic basins and buckets already catching rain. It was amazing how quickly I became alert when a new drip started on the table or floor, hopping out of bed with my headlight to find where the new drip sound originated.

Hopefully, this skill will now get a well-deserved break both because the dry season is upon us and my thatch is being patched!

Neither my host family nor my host organization had the resources to pay a man to repair the roof, so Peace Corps stepped in to help. The women in my organization gathered the joang or grasses used, my oldest brother, Ntate Sekila, helped with the labor, and Peace Corp paid the thatcher.

Despite having seen both the incredible mess created in my sister's American attic when she reroofed her house and the dark thatch dust that settles daily in my hut, I was unprepared for just how invasive patching my roof would be.

My mostly empty home.

On Saturday, I learned the roofing might happen on Monday, but nothing else. Sunday night, my nkhono (grandmother) came and explained in Sesotho that I would need to cover or move everything. When Abuti Thabo arrived, he elaborated in English. My Monday morning would be spent basically moving out of my home. Considering I also needed to spend a few hours at the spring doing laundry,, I was feeling a bit overwhelmed.

As usual, sleep helped and Monday I arose before the sun but full of anticipation. I packed things into my wardrobe before covering it with the tarp that had been protecting my bed. Flags, curtains, and my mosquito net came down. Everything not in the wardrobe or under sheets in the kitchen cabinet-even my bed, table, and chairs-was brought outside onto my family's covered porch.

Ladder Extending

After Ntate Sekila and the thatcher arrived, it took a while to actually start thatching. First, I had to speak to each about where the many leaks were. Then, the thatcher looked at the roof and explained what he thought needed to happen and why it was leaking so badly. Then, I was told to ask the chief for his ladder but I quickly learned he does not have a ladder, so I sent Abuti Mokhesue to ask a neighbor I knew had one from putting up a new roof in October (hooray for integration!). It turned out the ladder was not tall enough for this job, so the guys added a few feet and rungs to it.

Finally, they removed the metal cap and began work. My nkhono and Abuti Mokhesuoe separated the joang bundles into smaller bundles. These were then thrown onto the roof. The thatcher took these bundles and untied them, placing the thatch where he wanted it. Then, he and Ntate Sekila basically sewed the thatch into place using twine as thread.

Ntate Sekila "sewing" my roof.

The needle in this case is a long, skinny stick, maybe 10-12 feet long, with a large eye at one end for the twine to pass through. With Ntate Sekile inside the hut, the thatcher passed the needle through the thatch to be threaded with twine, the pulled back up. Next it was passed back down in a new spot, Ntate Sekila unthreaded it, and the thatcher pulled it back up to repeat the whole process again. In addition to threading and unthreading the needle, Ntate Sekila maintained tension on the twine the entire time. Each pass of the needle and each movement of the twine rained down thatch dust and debris.

Two different men optimistically told me it would be a quick job with me able to clean and move back into my house by mid afternoon. However, when the thatcher headed home at 4, the job was only half done. As he had an appointment on Tuesday, we agreed the job would be finished on Wednesday.

This is why I had to move so much out!

Abuti Thabo and his best friend helped me sweep and move back in. I desperately wanted to mop as the floor was still covered in the fine black dust, but with work starting up again on Wednesday, it did not make sense. Neither did unpacking much, so my hut stayed spartan.

Wednesday, we started the process again before figuring out we did not have enough joang to finish the job. As a result, thatching concluded around 2, giving me time to sweep and mop twice before moving back in. Since I will be out of the village for most of the next two weeks, the plan is to finish this “one day job” in two to three weeks.  

Nutrition, Wool, and Inspiration

I love where I live. My village is my home. Other than not being able to see many of my friends and family, my life is pretty much perfect right now. 

My organization and I work in my village and the four surrounding villages. As a PCV, a huge responsibility is to build capacity and help the people in my area gain the skills and initiative to do things for themselves instead of building a reliance on me as a person or representative of outside aid. 

One of my absolute favorite things about my area is that the villagers in my area are constantly taking the initiative to make their own living situations better. I cherish and celebrate the many things I see them doing.  Sometimes I wonder if they even need a PCV, as they are clearly already working in the right direction, then I remember that getting a PCV is just one example of their ingenuity. 

Over the last few months, I have been involved in a number of wonderful activities that have highlighted the resourcefulness of my community. Here are a sampling of them:

Wool and Mohair Growers Association:

Recently a community I work with was able to get an SADP (Smallholders Agricultural Development Project) grant to start their own association. Many rural Basotho keep sheep and goats. The ability to collect and weigh the wool locally will allow the local livestock owners to work together when selling their product, hopefully giving them more power as sellers. 

Continued Growth in the Agricultural Block Scheme:

Our Agricultural Block Scheme started in the late 1980s, when our chief was able to encourage villagers to combine their land resources and to work their fields together. He was then able to secure a grant to pay for irrigation to be added to some of the fields. 

The scheme continues to meet success, as was celebrated at the Mokete ea Temo I attended and then mentioned again in the press as I shared in Mokete ea Temo: Celebrity Style.  Currently, three large greenhouses with irrigation are being installed thanks to assistance from Letsing Diamond Mines. This will allow the scheme to grow and sell some vegetables year round and provide a greenhouse to serve as a place to start crops before warm weather arrives. 

Beekeeping Workshop with Worldvision:

Last month, the local Worldvision office, who has worked closely with my community for a number of years, held a week-long beekeeping workshop and offered to help those interested in starting to keep bees. The workshop was well attended. 

Nutrition Workshop for Mothers with the Ministry of Agriculture:

I spent three days this past week in a Nutrition Workshop. Over 60 women-both women from my organization and young mothers-attended. The Ministry facilitators did an excellent job covering good nutrition as a whole, nutrition related illnesses and how to prevent them with proper nutrition, and much more. The final day included a practical in which the women learned to make a variety of foods for infants transitioning to solid food. 

This was particularly excited for me, partially because many people not involved in the above activities were included, but also because it marked one of the first times I have successfully spent learning a topic exclusively in Sesotho. Additionally, Butha Buthe has the second highest rate of stunting in children, with 43% of children considered to be stunted. Many of the young mothers who attended I also spend time with at the monthly Mother & Child Outreach Clinic in our village, so seeing a workshop designed to help them be better mothers and help youth achieve better rates of growth is particularly exciting to me. 

With all of these activities, the opportunity to be involved is an honor. While I would love to claim these activities as my own, it is even better to see that such wonderful things are happening without my influence! I am so blessed to live in a vibrant community that does not let its challenges keep it from trying!

Morning Reflection-NYE

I'm sitting outside my hut, on an old sheet to keep the light colored pants Debbie gave me clean rather than to appease the Basotho concerns of cold cement causing hemorrhoids. My feet luxuriate in the soft sand that comprises our front yard. Most mornings are too hot and too sunny for this, however, today is gray with just enough humidity to make the occasional light breeze welcome instead of cold.

I sip my coffee and consider making a second cup. This time last year, the consideration would have been a second pot, as the second cup was a given, but now real coffee is a luxury usually shipped by a generous and loving person back home.

In the distance, I can hear villagers shrieks of joy-it is New Year's Eve after all. Next door, I hear Ntate Thamahane conducting village business. Occasionally my quiet morning is interrupted by a villager walking to the chief's place, which requires we go through the usual Basotho greetings.

Relishing my bare feet in the sand, I remember an older man at Three Mile Island last summer telling me he believes people should have a physical connection to the Earth as often as possible for health reasons. While this sounds like the musings of a back to nature person, he was otherwise a very conservation and professional individual. I remember we discussed the way sea turtles us the Earth's magnetic force to direct thousand miles journeys (because I always want to discuss sea turtles) and that we too should allow our bodies to experience that connection to the Earth. Now, a year and a half later, I am sitting on the other wise of the world, fully appreciating that connection.

As New Year's Eve often induces reflection, I cannot help but wonder at all the paths that led me to this moment. It seems like every stepping stone has focused on connection and simplicity, often removing those things that separate us from such a connection. How many of my jobs have put me in a place to experience life without the usual trappings of electricity and the modern world: television, unlimited high-speed internet, regular hot showers, traditional flush toilets, etc.

In a world filled with reaching towards the next big thing-be it the newest iPhone, marriage, kids, a mortgage, or a new car-I find myself stepping away; craving and pursuing jobs that are lifestyles in simplicity. The immense peace I feel sitting on the cement, leaning on my dung and mud hut on this gray day is the same as I captured when at sea, grading handwritten essays on the deck of a schooner. It is the same as I found sitting on the deck of my cabin during a summer thunderstorm at Three Mile Island. It is the same as I enjoyed each early morning walk down to Nikana Lodge at Camp Pendalouan, looking out at Big Blue Lake's serene facade in the silence just before camp truly awoke. It is early mornings and late nights in Charleston, sitting on the Spirit of South Carolina while looking out over the harbor and marveling that life brought these moments over and over again.

Fifteen years ago, none of these were on my list of dreams. I graduated high school and started college in pursuit of suits and salaries; the American dream. Somehow, despite my desire to be unique, I followed the cliché and found myself during those college years. In doing so, I realized the reality of a career indoors, of reaching for promotions, of following the usual path set out by the game of Life (graduate, job, wedding, house, babies...) unpalatable. Thanks to a simple daysail on Niagara with my mom and a summer of fitness and hiking in Maine, I realized there were other options and the only limiting factor was me.

And so, I find myself in the perfect place this New Year's Eve morning: sitting outside, barefoot, with that second cup of coffee. As the hot summer sun begins to burn its way through the clouds and will soon chase me inside, I cannot help but look ahead to 2015 with excitement. It may be the only year of my life spent exclusively outside of my home country. I doubt it will be filled with only the serenity I feel in this moment, but I can always return to my happy place: barefoot, outside, with coffee. And, I will always appreciate the simplicity of life in a place where my slowest walk is regularly commented on as too fast. 

Special thanks to Mom, Julie P, and Eric G for supporting this moment through gifts of coffee.