Dance Party Lesotho-Style!!

January 2008 was a party month for me. Of course there was New Year’s Eve in South Africa, but I have been to multiple parties since then too. You’ll all be happy to know I’m kind of a big deal in Lesotho this year. :) Each of my first two weekends back in Lesotho I attended a party. The first was a good-bye party for my friend ‘Me Refiloe, the Youth Coordinator of the Qacha’s Nek district, who sadly has been transferred to a different district. Because she works for the government (Ministry of Youth and Gender), many local government officials were there which was kind of weird—it would be like partying with your mayor and police chiefs in the States. I didn’t know too many people at this first party so I was glad Adam was there with me (especially when a very drunk man started hitting on me) and we left pretty early. The second party was thrown by my friend Nozipho and thus was a younger crowd. I was definitely the oldest person there for a few hours. I knew many more people at this party so I was much more comfortable and had more than just one beer like the previous weekend. I felt like I was being accepted into the youth community—I wasn’t exactly working at the house party, but I was breaking ground with the youth by proving to them that I could hang, which will help me in my work with the youth. First we had a braai (British English for bbq) at about 10pm after the electricity came back on. Then after we ate chicken and beef and papa, the dance party began. There are only two things Basotho do at parties: drink and dance. And damn are they good at both! Dance music consists of re-mixes of almost anything from Celine Dion to crying babies to Microsoft Windows sounds—anything you can put a beat on top of. Dance moves are just as eclectic—my personal favorite is a variation on the one-legged push-up. The all-out, all-night dancing is my favorite part about Basotho parties. In the States, people are so afraid and embarrassed to dance (especially the guys!). In Lesotho it’s embarrassing if you don’t dance. It doesn’t matter how old you are in Lesotho—when the music starts, your hips start swaying. Even adolescents going through their awkward puberty stage are not ashamed to dance like crazy! Parties usually rage on through the night until sunrise. I had mentally and physically prepared myself to be up until 5 or 6am. However the party was at a young guy’s house, and his mom broke it up at about 3am because she said she needed to sleep… lame. No, she’s actually a really cool lady and was awake with us the entire night laughing and dancing. One of the guys walked me home (my co-worker’s son) to make sure that I was “safe and protected” he said. Everyone there was very concerned about my safety while walking home which made me feel loved (it was only a 3-minute walk).

Then last week was the All-Volunteer Conference in Maseru where all the Peace Corps volunteers in Lesotho came together to discuss new policies and project ideas, etc. During the day we were all business at the conference, but every night was a party. It’s extremely rare that we all get together at the same time so we had to take advantage of the situation. Needless to say, many beers were imbibed. And one night we had a dance party—Peace Corps Lesotho style, which is a unique combination of American and Basotho music and dance moves. January has been the month of dancing. It was a good month. But seriously February will be the month of working… I swear. :)

HOST FAMILY UPDATE:
I cannot recall who I have told about my ntate so I thought I would write it in my blog because I have received a few questions about it. My ntate-moholo from my previous home, Ntate Makeka, passed away right before Christmas. I had not seen him for a while before his death, but thought he was doing fine because I had not heard otherwise. His oldest daughter didn’t tell me what he died from, just that it happened “very quickly.” He was an old man at 90 years old, the oldest in Lesotho as far as I’m concerned, and lived a fruitful life of many travels and many children. He was a devoted husband and father—an excellent role model for today’s Basotho men. He will be missed.

His son and his family now own the compound so it was good that I moved when I did.