Basotho Time

Patience is definitely one quality I’ve improved since arriving in Lesotho thanks to… Basotho time. Patience can include many things: patience with language misunderstandings, with kids asking for money and candy, or just slow work progress in general. These are important in developing patience, but I’m talking specifically about just sitting and waiting. When our volunteer group arrived in Lesotho we were warned about “Basotho time,” but it’s still a major cultural difference that is difficult to tolerate. Basotho aren’t just late; sometimes they are ridiculously, unbelievably, inexcusably late. I spent all of last week in a rural area of Lesotho with my PCV friend Pam in her village, and it seemed like the whole week was run on Basotho time.

I traveled to Pam’s village with PSI in the back of a covered pick-up truck. They said they would pick me up at my village bus stop at 10 or 11am. I knew this meant after 11, but like a silly American I arrived at the stop at 10:30am. I sat on my backpack on the side of the road for three hours waiting, reading a book, texting PSI with no response. After the first two hours I got a little worried, maybe they weren’t coming, and I decided I would go home at 2pm. Finally though, a little before 2pm, they showed up. Then we drove for five hours on dirt roads over mountain passes before reaching our destination—but at least it was a free ride. :)

A couple days later Pam and some other volunteers hosted a Children’s Health Day at their village clinic. HIV counselors/testers from the hospital were coming from the camptown. The event was scheduled to start at 8am. The counselors arrived at the clinic at 11am, prepared their test kits until noon, and then some of them took their lunch breaks. It was really frustrating, but we weren’t paying them so there wasn’t much we could do but wait. Hundreds of Basotho women with babies and toddlers strapped to their backs were waiting too. Somehow we managed to see almost all of the children thanks to the dedicated clinic staff.

Later in the week I went on outreach with PSI to a high school in a rural area. Outreach involves HIV/AIDS education, then voluntary HIV testing and counseling. We were supposed to start at 10am, but that’s when we left the lodge where the counselors were staying. We arrived at the high school at about 10:30, but the school wasn’t ready yet. The teachers had to gather the students, and then we could begin. An hour and a half later we started the general presentation. That’s Lesotho. While the students were lining up to test for HIV after the presentation, I did some educational activities with small groups. Then I showed them male and female condoms and how to use them. Most Basotho are sexually active by age 15 so I always show high school students how to properly use a condom.

The day we returned to Qacha’s Nek I thought we were leaving at 10am, but a co-worker showed up at my friend’s house telling me to be ready at 8am. We were leaving early? Heavy clouds were rolling in, so I assumed we were going to try to beat the rain. I met my co-worker at 8, and we proceeded to visit her family’s homes in the area. We weren’t being picked up until 9am, but my co-worker wanted me to snap photos of her and her family members. That sneaky b****. Then we actually got picked up at 9am. We didn’t leave yet though. First we went back to the lodge where the rest of my co-workers were packing. I waited until 11am, then I climbed into the back of the truck with all the luggage and a lamb carcass. Then off we went, home to Qacha’s Nek. Basotho time = lots of waiting.