Three Photo Thursday-6 October

The luggage from half of the trainees

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

My brother Thabo leading his choir

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

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

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

Learning Language

Attempting to look confused, I stared at the woman in front of me. “Huh?” I said before turning to the two people sitting next to me for help.

The woman in front of me repeated her question, “U roabetse joang?” I continued to look perplexed as I slowly repeated after her, as if trying to remember what the words meant.

Finally, the person to my left whispered to me, “She wants to know how you slept.”

“Oh!” I exclaimed. “Good, um, hantle ‘M’e!”

Although I have known and regularly used these common Sesotho words for over two years, as the American “student” at the LCF [Language and Culture Facilitator] Training last week, my job was to be a new arrival to Lesotho.

Each new LCF took a turn teaching three of us for twenty minutes on topics ranging from simple sentence construction, vocabulary in the kitchen or at the shop, and the future tense. Most of the brand new LCFs were surprisingly good at teaching their topic; however, almost all struggled to not include longer complex sentences in rapid Sesotho as filler in their sessions. I found this entertaining, as I usually understood them, but needed to don a blank, perplexed, or dejected face the way a new trainee would. Obviously, when one is just learning to introduce oneself in Sesotho, complex sentences are too advanced!

After two years living and working in predominantly Sesotho, acting like a new trainee was like time travel. Much the way we forget there was a point we did not know how to read or write, I had forgotten how overwhelming the process of learning the language had been during the early stages of Pre-Service Training.

As new trainees, we had not even been in the country for a single meal before we walked away from our peers and LCFs, following a new host mother to her home. My host mother and sister tried to explain some things to me, but neither spoke English. A short afternoon session may have taught me to say hello and goodbye, but mostly explained, in English, some critical safety information.

That night, I ate dinner surrounded by my new family. Although my host father and the older sister both spoke English, they had been trained to speak mostly Sesotho to me. As I had my first meal of papa and greens, I listened to them talk around me wondering how I would possibly be able to understand them.

The next day, we began our routine of language classes every morning. Despite the skill of our LCFs, I remember many times when they would say something and we trainees would look at each other confused and lost.  

Today, I am confident enough in the language, that even when I do not understand someone, I am able to get clarification in Sesotho instead of English. I credit a huge part of this to my LCFs. Their slow, intentional repetition and immersion-based teaching gave me experience with being uncomfortable or uncertain while still using the language. They gave me a solid base of comprehension that allowed me to walk into a workplace where only one person spoke English and still find ways to accomplish things without relying on translations. Although I continued to study independently and with a tutor, it was the success of the language program during Pre-Service Training that allowed me to do so.

In this video, 'M'e 'Mampho, who was actually my LCF during PST, demonstrates how to teach trainees using no English and very few extra Sesotho words while teaching a lesson on public transportation. How much are you able to understand?

Top Ten Surprises After One Year as a PCV

One year ago today, I swore in as a Peace Corps Volunteer with these seventeen amazing individuals!

It has been exactly one year since I finished Pre-Service Training and swore in as an official Peace Corps Volunteer. The year has been everything I expected and more than I imagined. Peace Corps service has not been without surprises. Here are the Top Ten things that have surprised me during my first year of service:

10. I polish floors

I do not think I had ever polished a floor before moving to Lesotho. Here, I find myself on my hands and knees polishing at least every other month. Keeping the linoleum on my dirt floor clean is a constant chore. I sweep more than daily to remove the sand that blows in and the dust that falls from the thatch roof. This all moves much easier when the friction is reduced thanks to floor polish. Of course, that reduced friction also turns my floor into an uneven skating rink for a few days, but that is just part of the fun!

9. I live here!
This one is a bit of a cheat as I was stumped for a tenth surprise. But the reality is that every day I cannot help but wonder at the roads my life has taken. I am amazed that I live in this beautiful country filled with wonderful, welcoming, and generous people. It is as if I awake every day expecting it to be a dream, but it is not. It is my actual life!

8. Easy Weight Loss

Everyone I spoke with before Peace Corps warned me that women gain weight in Peace Corps while men typically lose it. This is obviously a broad generalization but is believed to be due to the high starch based diets found in developing nations. In my case, however, I have lost weight with absolutely no effort. My activity level is pretty much where it was in America or lower, however, cooking for myself for the first time in over a decade is probably contributing. I also believe not thinking about it helps a lot. In America, women are bombarded by ideas of how they should look and their value in all ways is at least partially dependent upon their looks and what they wear. In Lesotho, this is significantly reduced, people look how they look and wear what they have. Since I have only a small mirror, I spend very little time thinking about how I look. If it were not for the scale at the Peace Corps office and my tape measure, I would have no idea I have lost around fifty pounds. Of course, this could also be due to wearing all the same clothes I brought with me. Sadly, this also means that said clothes are ill fitting and less flattering. I now roll my skirts to avoid stepping on them, my skinny jeans are saggy jeans, and shirts now resemble tents. But, since I only see these thing in pictures, I am finding I do not really care!

7. Phone Dependency

When I was sailing, I would turn off my phone for weeks at a time. Once I switched to dry land, I still was prone to leaving my phone behind or keeping it on silent. I could get away with charging it only two to three times a week. Now, my phone is a constant companion. I am quick to reply to WhatsApp messages and phone calls. Some of this is cultural as the Basotho expect someone to stop a conversation to answer a call. But some of it is also that this phone my connection to friends and family around the world. Some days, it is the only English I experience. Every day it is a chance to keep up with things happening in the lives of people I love, people I am going years without seeing.

6. I Don't Miss Much

I do not often miss places or things. There are moments I think, “Ooh, I would love to get sushi right now,” and I definitely would miss brewed coffee if my friends and family did not keep me incredibly well stocked thanks to amazing care packages. But, for the most part, I am so content with what I have here that I do not miss home. When I am headed to the big city (Sarcasm...Maseru is only big in the tiny context of Lesotho), I try to brainstorm a list of supplies and foods I should buy as Maseru has so many more options than Butha Buthe. But, when I walk into the comparatively larger and well stocked stores in Maseru, I quickly become overwhelmed. I cross most of the items off my list without purchase and walk out content with only one or two treats like chocolate chips, balsamic vinegar, soy sauce, or a spice only available in the capital.

I have tried to convince myself I need to buy new cloths that fit, but similarly, I walk into the stores, become overwhelmed, and decide my oversized clothes will do for another year. In one year, I have purchased the following clothing: slippers, one skirt, dress shirt, one t-shirt, two tank tops, and two traditional Seshoeshoe dresses.

I truly expected part of the hardship people discuss before Peace Corps to be missing things in America-showers, driving, shopping, electricity, machines, diverse restaurants and food-and I was astonished to learn that I only miss the friends and family I have left behind. 

5. I Crave Time with other Americans

My first few months after swearing in as a PCV, I was quite content to spend all of my time in my village. Seeing other PCVs in town was nice, but not necessary. Now, a year later, I find myself desperate to spend time with the same people I would brush off to spend a quiet day in my community. The longer I am here, the more I appreciate times with other volunteers. It is not just that these are incredible individuals with a sense of adventure and purpose like my own. It is also the ease of spending time with people who understand my cultural reference points. While I am old enough that most of them just look confused when I start talking about Punky Brewster, they know much of the same music, television ads, movies, and so on. As my grandfather would say, we share a cultural IQ that allows us to enjoy easier camaraderie and jokes.

4. Bra Stuffing

I have always been a well-endowed female. While movies and books are filled with pre-teen girls stuffing their bra to look a bit older, I am the one whose fourth grade school picture highlights that I should have been wearing a bra. (Mom, please do not scan and share said hideousness!) Thus, I have never stuffed my bra nor used it as a storage device as I filled up all usable space in my bra. However, here in Lesotho, my chest is considered small. As I wear skirts often, my bra often serves as my only available pockets. Any given day, it holds at least two of the following: toilet paper, keys, money, phone, pedometer, hand sanitizer, notebook, pen, camera, gum, etc. It helps that I find I now have a lot of extra space for all these goodies thanks to number eight.

3. Health without Wealth

Before leaving for a life in rural Africa, I anticipated living on hand sanitizer, vigilance about washing my food and hands, finally stopping my nail biting habit, and torturous rounds of illness. While I do occasionally wash my hands and use hand sanitizer, the reality is that with less effort spent on sanitation and less facilities for sanitation, I am healthier than I have ever been at home. In fourteen months, I have had two small colds, two minor injuries worthy of medical care (Remember my trip to the ER?), and only minimal GI issues. Other than my first two months at site, I have barely even needed the band-aids that Peace Corps supplies us.

It is not just me either, for the most part, the Basotho that are part of my every day life are also incredibly healthy. One of my brothers has been a bit more accident prone lately, marking the first two times I have seen anyone in my family bleed and the first time one of them has visited a doctor.

I clearly arrived with a preconceived notion that living away from all the pristine and overly sanitary opportunities in America would lead to more illness and more problems, but the reality, for me at least, is quite the opposite.  

2. Proud Ameri-sotho

In America, a lot of people spend time talking about how hated America is by the rest of the world. While I have not necessarily witnessed this concept during my travels in the Caribbean, Central America, or Europe, it still impacted my perception of America. Here in Southern Africa, however, whenever people learn I am from the United States, they are envious. The immediate response is either “I want to go there” or “Take me with you when you return.” Even when I note that life in America is not easy either, people still want to be there. America is their dream.

As Lesotho's political situation has unraveled in the last few months, the United States has threatened to cut off certain funding if the government does not take action. Many Basotho have shared their fear of this happening. They see America as the leader of all positive international involvement in the country. They worry that if America pulls funding, other countries and NGOs will follow the US's lead. Since most groups followed our direction when we left briefly last September due to the Coup, their fear is understandable.

Even as my pride in being an American increases by being here, the best complement I receive from villagers is “Ua Mosotho”. When I do things that are culturally considered to be Basotho, they are thrilled. Women in my village love to yell at people who try to speak English to me in town, making sure it is understood that I am a Mosotho, I speak Sesotho, and I am a child of Lesotho. Being that integrated and loved is a crowning achievement for me.

1. Reliance on Help

I have always been an independent person. My mother still jokes about my independent nature as a child. American culture embraces and encourages such independence. Here in Lesotho, accepting help and even seeking it out are encouraged. It is nothing to go to a new town without having a clear picture of where I need to get. The expectation is that when I arrive, I can ask people for directions and trust the answers I get. If I am unsure of how to deal with a situation, rather than trying by myself, I need only ask and Basotho are ready to help-such as with that rat I had a few months back and its siblings my brothers have since trapped. This is not because I am an American or a Peace Corps Volunteer, this is simply the way culture works here. People ask for help and would be surprised if it was not given.

I am always amazed by the amount of trust and help I need to succeed here. Coming from a culture where we are encouraged to deal with it on our own, asking for help can be a challenge for me. Sometimes I would rather stay in my hut and do nothing than go to a new place where I know I will have to rely on the help of strangers, but every time I ask for or receive help, I am awed by how wonderful it is. While I know that returning to America and keeping this new-found part of me will be a challenge, I hope I can. Giving and receiving help is an amazing way to keep connected to people, whether you know them well or not. And the reality is, most people are genuinely good people who only want to help out their fellow human.

PST as a Busy Resource Volunteer

Between April and June, I spent four weeks involved with Pre-Service Training for the newest PCVs. The first of these was in Maseru at the Peace Corps office before the trainees arrived. The other three found me staying with a new host family in the new training village.

It was pretty demanding to spend that many weeks away from my site. My time in the village has been hectic and busy making up for these work trips. My villagers have definitely noticed my absence as villagers stop me to ask where or why I have been hiding myself.

New PCV Caitlyn wrote about me on her blog,
commenting specifically on my
Sesotho abilities.

At the same time, it was been incredibly rewarding to get to know the twenty-three trainees. They are a really great group of individuals and I am excited to spent another year connecting with them. Like my own training group, they are a diverse group, representing a variety of ages and backgrounds. Similarly, they are now spread throughout the country.

Being at PST also encouraged me to reflect back on my life since leaving PST and moving to my site. The sessions I co-lead with Peace Corps staff brought to mind new projects I can spearhead in my own community. Answering the varied questions of the trainees showed me just how comfortable I have become living in a culture and country that was once new and foreign. It forced me to realize that my 27 months here is already half over and that I am dreading the day I have to say goodbye to my community and host family.

There was one day in particular, though, that was very challenging for me. I remember well the day we received our site assignments during PST last year. The Peace Corps staff had used ropes to make a giant outline of Lesotho. As each of us was told our site, we were escorted to that part of the country. I was the fourth person to learn my site. As I stood in the northern reaches of our Lesotho, I watched my friends be escorted to a variety of places far from me. I had known that there were only a handful of sites in the North, but seeing it visually and seeing just how far away some of my closest friends would be was draining.

I was stunned to find the same feelings rushing in as we gave out the site assignments to this new group. Despite having only spent ten days with them at this point, I still found myself depressed to watch new-found friends being assigned to places I have not visited. Even though I was excited to welcome my newest Butha Buthe family members and other Northern neighbors, I could not help but be saddened by how far away some folks would be living.

One of my favorite things about being at PST, however, has been the opportunity to spend time with the fabulous Peace Corps Lesotho staff. During PST and workshops, we spend a lot of time with the staff, however, once at site our interactions are limited to phone calls and emails.

I genuinely enjoy interacting with the staff. The interactions I have had with them at PST over the last three months have highlighted my cultural and language growth over the past year. Bo-Me get so excited listening to me chat with them in Sesotho even when I make little mistakes, because I am so much better than I was during my own training. They fawn over my wearing a “Charlie” or blanket around my waist like the Basotho women do or my affinity for donning Seshoeshoe dresses.

I think the staff are impressed, amused, and even a bit annoyed at times when they start speaking Sesotho quickly between them and I chime in with an answer or opinion. Usually they only jump to speedy Sesotho when they are trying to talk about things that they do not need us PCVs to hear, so they are always a bit shocked when I chime in. But, mostly, they are amused because I talk like the people I spend the most time speaking Sesotho with: older women. They love to laugh at me as I use the slang of grandmothers instead of the slang of my peers.  

Maseru

I spent last week in Maseru. This marked the first time since I entered the country ten months ago that I stayed overnight in our capital city.

As PCVs, we are heavily discouraged from spending time in Maseru. It is considered the most dangerous part of Lesotho, although many volunteers say that Maputsoe-an industrial city I pass through when traveling between Butha Buthe and nearly anywhere else in the country-is more dangerous. Regardless of popular opinion, Maseru comes with warnings from Peace Corps and from the US State Department.

Additionally, the political unrest that occurred in August and September and the elections in February, Peace Corps briefly prevented us from traveling through Maseru without special permission from the Country Director. Exceptions were made for those who needed to see the PCMO [Peace Corps Medical Officer].

Sidenote: Having been here for ten months without a visit to PCMO is pretty stunning. Other than the many vaccinations we have received and my one emergency-room worthy injury, I have been incredibly healthy here in Lesotho; more healthy that in America! This amuses me because I had been so anxiety riddled about medical clearance only to have the medical office tell me last week that I am one of the healthiest volunteers in country!

So this visit to Maseru had nothing to do with medical issues or thankfully the safety and security issues that also bring volunteers to the Peace Corps office. Instead, this was for training. I, along with five other PCVs, was chosen to come to the office to help design Pre-Service Training for the incoming Healthy Youth volunteers.

The six of us, along with Peace Corps staff, spent the week analyzing various training sessions from Peace Corps Headquarters. While many of us felt training was long and thorough while going through it; it was surprisingly difficult to fit the many important topics into the ten week schedule. We were mostly focused on the sessions that apply to the Healthy Youth framework and completing our work as PCVs. There are a number of required medical and safety sessions that help to fill the schedule.

Working with this team to design training was rewarding. Training has always been a highlight of mine, whether on ships, at school, in the woods, or in Lesotho. I am excited to bring my experience leading trainings with Spirit of South Carolina and Camp Pendalouan to Peace Corps.

It was also great to work alongside volunteers and staff I do not see often. I am realizing that one of the challenges of Peace Corps is that I work “with” a number of truly remarkable people, however, each of us is geographically isolated. Rarely do we have the opportunity to work together and even more rarely does that collaboration occur in person after PST. I had therefore forgotten how inspiring it can be to work alongside my peers and supervisors.

Being in Maseru for the week did have its negatives. Two volunteers had been mugged in the previous few weeks, one in Maseru during daylight in a high traffic area. It is sobering to see peers targeted for crime because of their presumed wealth.

Also, life in Maseru is expensive. With little effort, it would be easy to spend the entire month's stipend on food and taxis in one week. While Peace Corps will reimburse some of these expenses (taxis in Maseru are considered a safety expense), it was startling to realize how quickly I was spending my living allowance. Our group was frugal, cooking at least one meal for ourselves each day, but even simple street food was twice as expensive in the capital as my own camp town.

This was also the first time I recognized how different life in my village is from life in America. Between the television at the guest house being on during breakfast, riding in cars regularly, being able to buy the supplies for and then bake lasagna, light switches and showers, I was surrounded by things that made me feel like I had returned to amenities similar to but not quite like America. For the first time in my service, I missed life in America.

I found it fascinating that when living my lovely and simple village life with basins for bathing, solar panels to charge my phone, and a small two burner gas stove for cooking, I do not miss life in America. And, until the week in Maseru, I did not recognize the profound differences between this life and that I live when in my own country. Perhaps it is these dramatic differences, the lack of parallels between the two places, that prevents me from missing home.

Then again, perhaps it is simply that I am so filled with joy and peace in my village that the capacity for missing a place known for its hectic life is nonexistent. And perhaps, it is that Maseru is a city, busy in its own way and therefore not peaceful, that allows me to miss aspects of home.   

Regardless, returning home to my hut, my host brothers, and my villagers brought back my delight in living and working in Lesotho while also making me incredibly grateful that I was placed in my rural hamlet!