Once again the holidays have come and gone -- except this year I was in Africa. Christmas really doesn't feel like Christmas when you're halfway around the world away from your family and friends and home. Luckily I was able to be with some of my Peace Corps friends. Again I was at Kjessie's -- I visit her a lot. :) This time we killed two ducks for Christmas dinner, but I didn't do the honors. The ducks were delicious, and we had mashed potatoes and green beans and stuffing and home-made pumpkin pies (Kjessie's really good). We eat well if we try hard enough. We even watched "It's A Wonderful Life" in one of the classrooms on campus.
Christmas was definitely different this year. I missed all of you and was thinking about you, friends and family. I hope everyone is enjoying the holidays and has a fun New Year's Eve! I will be on a beach in South Africa! Happy New Year!
Thursday, December 27, 2007
Tuesday, December 4, 2007
Cherries & Chickenheads
HAPPY THANKSGIVING!
August, September, and October I stayed in Qacha's Nek at my site so November was the month of travelling. I went to three different volunteers' homes in different parts of Lesotho, 2 of which are across the Senqu (or Orange) River. When you need to cross a river in Lesotho, you either drive over a cement bridge if the river is low (and if a: your part of the river has a bridge, and b: you have a car). Like the vast majority of Basotho, Peace Corps volunteers do not have cars. If you don't have a car, your only option is a shabby rowboat manned by a malnourished teenage boy wearing only his underwear. People and luggage and any number of weird things have to cross the river by rowboat: heavy furniture, crates of beer, corpses (yup). Welcome to Lesotho.
For my first exciting "outing" post-lockdown, my fellow PCV friend and neighbor Adam Rosenberg took me to Ficksburg where a bunch of volunteers were meeting up for the annual Cherry Festival. Ficksburg is a border-town right outside the northwestern border of Lesotho. Four of us stayed at a volunteer's house near the border. It took Adam and I 9 hours total to get there: 7 from Qacha to Maseru, and another 2 to Leribe. The next day we all crossed the border from Lesotho to Ficksburg, from black to white. The strangest thing about going to the Free State (a province of South Africa) for the first time is seeing groups of mostly white people. In Lesotho (especially the mountains) I only see a small number of Westerners all of whom I know and recognize. It's shocking to blend into a crowd after being an obvious minority and spectacle for so long. The Ficksburg Cherry Festival was weird, but fun. It reminded me of a county fair -- white trash, old people, greasy food, bad musical entertainment. At one point there was a cherry pit spitting contest. The best part though was free samples of cherry-flavored alcoholic beverages (and other cherry delights). They were kind of nasty, but free. :) Some of the male volunteers decided to attend the event dressed as Boers meaning mullets and cut-off jean shorts. They fit right in. For lunch I had a huge curry meat pie (I've been eating a lot of meatpies since I got here -- they're everywhere and awesome) and a draft beer, or three. It was good to be out of Lesotho for a little while and forget about my job.
As previously mentioned I celebrated Thanksgiving at my friend Kjessie's house. She lives across the Senqu River, about an hour hike to the river and an hour hike to her house from the river over a mountain. She works at an agricultural college where they plant every produce imaginable. When you get to her campus it looks like an oasis, especially in the winter, because it's a beautiful green area full of vegetation and nice houses in the middle of nowhere. I like to visit her despite the river pirates. Andy (PCV friend who lives near Kjessie) and I stayed at Kjessie's house for a few days for Thanksgiving before heading to Maseru for some Peace Corps training. On Thanksgiving Day we tried to find a chicken to slaughter for dinner (turkeys are hard to come by) because in Kjessie's village you have to kill an animal if you want to eat meat. Unfortunately Kjessie's students couldn't find us a chicken in her village or the next village over. We were pretty disappointed, but Kjessie had secured a fish from her boss so we had a fish with stuffing instead. And of course, mashed potatoes (half a plate) and cranberry sauce. It was delicious, and we all stuffed ourselves like it was a real American Thanksgiving. Kjessie even made pumpkin pie from scratch which was impressive to say the least. Later that night after we had finished eating, one of the teachers at Kjessie's school said she found us a chicken...! Thanksgiving was over, but better late than never. We woke up the next day ready for Thanksgiving Round 2 and walked to a house nearby to purchase our chicken. We bought it for 40 rands (about $7) and carried it home. Kjessie used to work on a chicken farm and wanted to show us a trick where she hyptonized the chicken. During the trick the chicken got loose and started running around the campus. We had the three of us, Kjessie's co-worker, and 3 or 4 students running after our escapee chicken. After maybe 20 minutes of running around, one of the students grabbed it by the tail ensuring it's fate. After capturing the chicken we decided that I would be the executioner--this would be a good chance to experience where my food really comes from I thought. At first we wanted to be hardcore so Kjessie got an ax from the campus toolshed. It looked really cool (see photo), but we didn't really know how to use it. Instead Kjessie's teacher, 'Me Mateboho, showed us the Basotho way to slaughter a chicken. Basically I lay the chicken on it's side, stepped on his wings with one foot and his legs with the other. I won't go into the nitty-gritty details on my blog (email me if you want the full, PG-13 story), but I basically cut his head off with a hunting knife that Mike Bohley gave me. It felt really strange to kill an animal, but I wanted to have the experience of killing my own food. Luckily Kjessie used to work on a chicken farm so she knew what to do after that: 1) stick chicken in boiling water and pluck feathers, cut off feet, singe little hairs off, cut a T in the butt, pull out insides, rinse, stuff, bake. We also went for a beautiful afternoon hike in the next village. When we returned from the hike we baked the stuffed chicken for Thanksgiving 2. As we bit into the chicken we worked so hard to prepare, the meat didn't budge. The three of us looked at each other as we gnawed on the rubbery meat and burst out laughing. We called him khoho-moholo after that which means grandpa chicken. Our first self-slaughtered chicken was pretty disappointing, but it was a good Thanksgiving (2 days) nonetheless.
I hope everyone in America had a yummy Thanksgiving. I had a lot to be thankful for this year after living in Africa for 6 months. I'm thankful for all my friends and family back home too -- I miss you all! Thank you for all of your support!
August, September, and October I stayed in Qacha's Nek at my site so November was the month of travelling. I went to three different volunteers' homes in different parts of Lesotho, 2 of which are across the Senqu (or Orange) River. When you need to cross a river in Lesotho, you either drive over a cement bridge if the river is low (and if a: your part of the river has a bridge, and b: you have a car). Like the vast majority of Basotho, Peace Corps volunteers do not have cars. If you don't have a car, your only option is a shabby rowboat manned by a malnourished teenage boy wearing only his underwear. People and luggage and any number of weird things have to cross the river by rowboat: heavy furniture, crates of beer, corpses (yup). Welcome to Lesotho.
For my first exciting "outing" post-lockdown, my fellow PCV friend and neighbor Adam Rosenberg took me to Ficksburg where a bunch of volunteers were meeting up for the annual Cherry Festival. Ficksburg is a border-town right outside the northwestern border of Lesotho. Four of us stayed at a volunteer's house near the border. It took Adam and I 9 hours total to get there: 7 from Qacha to Maseru, and another 2 to Leribe. The next day we all crossed the border from Lesotho to Ficksburg, from black to white. The strangest thing about going to the Free State (a province of South Africa) for the first time is seeing groups of mostly white people. In Lesotho (especially the mountains) I only see a small number of Westerners all of whom I know and recognize. It's shocking to blend into a crowd after being an obvious minority and spectacle for so long. The Ficksburg Cherry Festival was weird, but fun. It reminded me of a county fair -- white trash, old people, greasy food, bad musical entertainment. At one point there was a cherry pit spitting contest. The best part though was free samples of cherry-flavored alcoholic beverages (and other cherry delights). They were kind of nasty, but free. :) Some of the male volunteers decided to attend the event dressed as Boers meaning mullets and cut-off jean shorts. They fit right in. For lunch I had a huge curry meat pie (I've been eating a lot of meatpies since I got here -- they're everywhere and awesome) and a draft beer, or three. It was good to be out of Lesotho for a little while and forget about my job.
As previously mentioned I celebrated Thanksgiving at my friend Kjessie's house. She lives across the Senqu River, about an hour hike to the river and an hour hike to her house from the river over a mountain. She works at an agricultural college where they plant every produce imaginable. When you get to her campus it looks like an oasis, especially in the winter, because it's a beautiful green area full of vegetation and nice houses in the middle of nowhere. I like to visit her despite the river pirates. Andy (PCV friend who lives near Kjessie) and I stayed at Kjessie's house for a few days for Thanksgiving before heading to Maseru for some Peace Corps training. On Thanksgiving Day we tried to find a chicken to slaughter for dinner (turkeys are hard to come by) because in Kjessie's village you have to kill an animal if you want to eat meat. Unfortunately Kjessie's students couldn't find us a chicken in her village or the next village over. We were pretty disappointed, but Kjessie had secured a fish from her boss so we had a fish with stuffing instead. And of course, mashed potatoes (half a plate) and cranberry sauce. It was delicious, and we all stuffed ourselves like it was a real American Thanksgiving. Kjessie even made pumpkin pie from scratch which was impressive to say the least. Later that night after we had finished eating, one of the teachers at Kjessie's school said she found us a chicken...! Thanksgiving was over, but better late than never. We woke up the next day ready for Thanksgiving Round 2 and walked to a house nearby to purchase our chicken. We bought it for 40 rands (about $7) and carried it home. Kjessie used to work on a chicken farm and wanted to show us a trick where she hyptonized the chicken. During the trick the chicken got loose and started running around the campus. We had the three of us, Kjessie's co-worker, and 3 or 4 students running after our escapee chicken. After maybe 20 minutes of running around, one of the students grabbed it by the tail ensuring it's fate. After capturing the chicken we decided that I would be the executioner--this would be a good chance to experience where my food really comes from I thought. At first we wanted to be hardcore so Kjessie got an ax from the campus toolshed. It looked really cool (see photo), but we didn't really know how to use it. Instead Kjessie's teacher, 'Me Mateboho, showed us the Basotho way to slaughter a chicken. Basically I lay the chicken on it's side, stepped on his wings with one foot and his legs with the other. I won't go into the nitty-gritty details on my blog (email me if you want the full, PG-13 story), but I basically cut his head off with a hunting knife that Mike Bohley gave me. It felt really strange to kill an animal, but I wanted to have the experience of killing my own food. Luckily Kjessie used to work on a chicken farm so she knew what to do after that: 1) stick chicken in boiling water and pluck feathers, cut off feet, singe little hairs off, cut a T in the butt, pull out insides, rinse, stuff, bake. We also went for a beautiful afternoon hike in the next village. When we returned from the hike we baked the stuffed chicken for Thanksgiving 2. As we bit into the chicken we worked so hard to prepare, the meat didn't budge. The three of us looked at each other as we gnawed on the rubbery meat and burst out laughing. We called him khoho-moholo after that which means grandpa chicken. Our first self-slaughtered chicken was pretty disappointing, but it was a good Thanksgiving (2 days) nonetheless.
I hope everyone in America had a yummy Thanksgiving. I had a lot to be thankful for this year after living in Africa for 6 months. I'm thankful for all my friends and family back home too -- I miss you all! Thank you for all of your support!
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