I am officially home in the United States. My adventure in southern Africa is over... for now. I have promised my best friend and her family (my Basotho family) that I will return to Lesotho to see them again some day, so I am not too sad knowing that I will be there again in the future.
A new adventure starts for me now in a strangely familiar place. I feel like I can do anything, the sky's the limit! And it truly is. For now, I'm getting started on learning Spanish and surfing the web for jobs and ideas (wish me luck). Unlimited internet is addicting! One of these days I'll get a cell phone, but for now I can be contacted via email.
It's good to be back!
Thursday, July 30, 2009
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
Tambo Tambulani Tambo
The Tambo Festival was full of rich cultural events and activities. I'm so glad that I flew to Pemba for Tambo's International Arts & Cultural Festival. As I suspected I would, I've met some fun and interesting people from Mozambique, Brazil, and the Netherlands.
Watching and listening to the Afro-Arab Muslim choir was one of the most unique and beautiful musical experiences of my life. It was fascinating. I'm sure I will treasure the videos of this choir for a long time. I also witnessed the Mapiko dance, a tradition of the Makonde tribe that I was particularly interested in seeing. The Makonde tribe is matri-lineal, but the only dancer in the Mapiko dance is a man whose whole body is completely covered except for his hands and feet. A large group of drummers and singers supports the dancer. The rhythm of the drums can be heard throughout the large village. A traditional horn announces the Mapiko group of over 20 people as they parade through the village to the Tambo Cultural Center. The dance lasts for about 20 minutes starting slow and building excitement with quicker drum beats, faster dancing, and additional characters for drama. They performed a handful of times, and I loved every second.
I'm staying at a new friend's place tonight before I head to Johannesburg. More soon!
Watching and listening to the Afro-Arab Muslim choir was one of the most unique and beautiful musical experiences of my life. It was fascinating. I'm sure I will treasure the videos of this choir for a long time. I also witnessed the Mapiko dance, a tradition of the Makonde tribe that I was particularly interested in seeing. The Makonde tribe is matri-lineal, but the only dancer in the Mapiko dance is a man whose whole body is completely covered except for his hands and feet. A large group of drummers and singers supports the dancer. The rhythm of the drums can be heard throughout the large village. A traditional horn announces the Mapiko group of over 20 people as they parade through the village to the Tambo Cultural Center. The dance lasts for about 20 minutes starting slow and building excitement with quicker drum beats, faster dancing, and additional characters for drama. They performed a handful of times, and I loved every second.
I'm staying at a new friend's place tonight before I head to Johannesburg. More soon!
Thursday, July 16, 2009
Pemba: Strange & Beautiful
I arrived in Pemba a few days before the "International Art Camp" began because that was the only time I could get a flight to Pemba from Maputo without arriving late. I felt quite lonely being in a new place by myself where only a select few speak English. I hired a "private taxi," a guy and his personal car, to take me to Russel's Place, the only real budget accommodation in Pemba. There, I was pleased to find my own sturdy tent with a double mattress inside. It was surprisingly comfortable except during the mid-day heat. I liked my tent and the food at Russel's, but the atmosphere was a bit strange--almost all white South Africans. The day I arrived, the only black people at Russel's were the guys working. Not so comfortable or normal.
I lulled around with the ex-pats at the beach and at Russel's for a couple days, reading and writing and relaxing, until Vitor finally picked me up to go to the Cultural Center in a nearby village. Finally! I was back in Africa again, in a village with dirty little kids and drunk men, and simple homes! I was happy to be there after the string of backpackers I had stayed in. I met my roommate, a sweet Brazilian woman who speaks Portuguese and English, and others attending the camp. I am now staying in a still-under-construction house in the village, sleeping on simple woven cots with mats on top of them and using grandma's "African fabric" as sheets. :) Sorry Grandma! There's no running water and no mosquito nets, but I'm quite happy there.
The first day, we went to Arte Makonde where artists of the Makonde tribe in Pemba create beautiful wooden carvings. They all sit outside on burlap sacks on the ground outside, sitting next to each other, and work all day. They worked so fast and effortlessly creating their wooden art. I was mesmerized and excited to try it myself. I was pretty disappointed with my work. My hands were incredibly awkward with the tools and hard wood, but it was fun to try anyway. Yesterday was a sort of literature and poetry day. The discussions in Portuguese were quite boring for me because I didn't understand anything, but a small group of English speaking Mozambicans gave me and the only other non-Portuguese speaker a brief summary of what we missed which was nice. Then some people read poetry and folklore stories, again in Portuguese, but I liked it because you could see the emotion in the poets' intonation and expression.
Today was a beach day. Wimbe Beach is gorgeous, a photo-perfect tropical paradise. It was a nice morning. This afternoon, we will go visit a historical site in Pemba which I believe will include a visit to a mosque and listening to an Arab-inspired choir. Everything is day-to-day with the camp. I'm still in Africa! The cultural experience and exchange has been fabulous so far, though, despite the hiccups in scheduling and communication.
I lulled around with the ex-pats at the beach and at Russel's for a couple days, reading and writing and relaxing, until Vitor finally picked me up to go to the Cultural Center in a nearby village. Finally! I was back in Africa again, in a village with dirty little kids and drunk men, and simple homes! I was happy to be there after the string of backpackers I had stayed in. I met my roommate, a sweet Brazilian woman who speaks Portuguese and English, and others attending the camp. I am now staying in a still-under-construction house in the village, sleeping on simple woven cots with mats on top of them and using grandma's "African fabric" as sheets. :) Sorry Grandma! There's no running water and no mosquito nets, but I'm quite happy there.
The first day, we went to Arte Makonde where artists of the Makonde tribe in Pemba create beautiful wooden carvings. They all sit outside on burlap sacks on the ground outside, sitting next to each other, and work all day. They worked so fast and effortlessly creating their wooden art. I was mesmerized and excited to try it myself. I was pretty disappointed with my work. My hands were incredibly awkward with the tools and hard wood, but it was fun to try anyway. Yesterday was a sort of literature and poetry day. The discussions in Portuguese were quite boring for me because I didn't understand anything, but a small group of English speaking Mozambicans gave me and the only other non-Portuguese speaker a brief summary of what we missed which was nice. Then some people read poetry and folklore stories, again in Portuguese, but I liked it because you could see the emotion in the poets' intonation and expression.
Today was a beach day. Wimbe Beach is gorgeous, a photo-perfect tropical paradise. It was a nice morning. This afternoon, we will go visit a historical site in Pemba which I believe will include a visit to a mosque and listening to an Arab-inspired choir. Everything is day-to-day with the camp. I'm still in Africa! The cultural experience and exchange has been fabulous so far, though, despite the hiccups in scheduling and communication.
Monday, July 13, 2009
The Peace Corps Mozambique Experience
I had about a week of "in-between time" after Chris Conz left and before the "Art Camp" started. A few months ago, two Lesotho PCVs connected me to two Mozambique PCVs--I love the Peace Corps network. Both PCVs are girls living in the south, conveniently located close to the places I was visiting.
I stayed one more night at Zombie Cucumber in Vilankulos--I loved it there. I woke up to a leisurely morning and breakfast of scrambled eggs on a toasted Portuguese roll. I took my last shower for the week (PCVs don't have showers), bought some snacks and airtime (for my pre-paid cell phone), and got on a chapa to Maxixe, then the ferry to Inhambane. It was fun going back the same way I went up Mozambique because I knew the drill and the prices this time. Slowly I made my way to Inhambane where Emily lives. I used the internet and picked up some peanut butter (worth its weight in gold to PCVs) in town. Once I got to Emily's, I was so comfortable. She has a simple 2-room home, a pit latrine, friendly neighbors--this was the Mozambique I wanted to see.
The main differences between our homes in Lesotho and Mozambique are the materials used to build the house and the pit latrine and the fridge. In Moz, people bathe outside so the out-house is split in two parts--one for bathing and one for relieving yourself. Emily's pit latrine is literally a hole in the ground that you squat over, and the hole's kind of small for peeing so I had a hard time. There are two platforms on either side of the hole, one for each foot, that are more humorous than helpful. Emily and I talked about our Peace Corps experiences, and they were quite similar. She is working with an organization on HIV Prevention and finding quite a few obstacles--many of them cultural. I met her neighbors too, and finally got to see a real Mozambican family situation. The only thing that sucked was that I couldn't communicate with her neighbors. I greeted them in Portuguese and apologized for not understanding them.
The next day, I traveled south some more to meet another PCV, Tiffany, in Xai-Xai (shy-shy). Tiffany is a third year volunteer so she really knows her stuff. I met her and her boyfriend at the bus-stop and we walked through her village to her home. I was happy to see cattle plodding along the road. It's not as common as it is in Lesotho to see cattle here. Tiffany also has a simple home made of reeds and cement, but she has three rooms and a toilet seat in her latrine--yay! Tiffany started a children's recreation center for kids in her village. The group is CACHES, and the theme is HIV/AIDS education and messages of hope for young kids. I don't know how to talk about the center without sounding cheesy, but it was beautiful. I never really saw anything like it in Lesotho. When I first visited CACHES, a big group of kids was dancing together. It was a very organized step-by-step dance led by an ebullient male volunteer. The man, Mario, who works during the day volunteers his time in the late afternoons at the center. Tiffany's boyfriend and others donate their time and energy there too. I was in awe the way the community came together to support the center and the kids who are mostly orphans. The second day I explored Xai-Xai a bit, then for lunch Tiffany's neighbor made a delicious chicken and peanut sauce with xima (like papa). Yum, it was so good!
I truly enjoyed experiencing Peace Corps in a different country. I feel like I know Mozambique better because I visited PCVs at their sites. Big thanks to Emily and Tiffany for hosting me!
I stayed one more night at Zombie Cucumber in Vilankulos--I loved it there. I woke up to a leisurely morning and breakfast of scrambled eggs on a toasted Portuguese roll. I took my last shower for the week (PCVs don't have showers), bought some snacks and airtime (for my pre-paid cell phone), and got on a chapa to Maxixe, then the ferry to Inhambane. It was fun going back the same way I went up Mozambique because I knew the drill and the prices this time. Slowly I made my way to Inhambane where Emily lives. I used the internet and picked up some peanut butter (worth its weight in gold to PCVs) in town. Once I got to Emily's, I was so comfortable. She has a simple 2-room home, a pit latrine, friendly neighbors--this was the Mozambique I wanted to see.
The main differences between our homes in Lesotho and Mozambique are the materials used to build the house and the pit latrine and the fridge. In Moz, people bathe outside so the out-house is split in two parts--one for bathing and one for relieving yourself. Emily's pit latrine is literally a hole in the ground that you squat over, and the hole's kind of small for peeing so I had a hard time. There are two platforms on either side of the hole, one for each foot, that are more humorous than helpful. Emily and I talked about our Peace Corps experiences, and they were quite similar. She is working with an organization on HIV Prevention and finding quite a few obstacles--many of them cultural. I met her neighbors too, and finally got to see a real Mozambican family situation. The only thing that sucked was that I couldn't communicate with her neighbors. I greeted them in Portuguese and apologized for not understanding them.
The next day, I traveled south some more to meet another PCV, Tiffany, in Xai-Xai (shy-shy). Tiffany is a third year volunteer so she really knows her stuff. I met her and her boyfriend at the bus-stop and we walked through her village to her home. I was happy to see cattle plodding along the road. It's not as common as it is in Lesotho to see cattle here. Tiffany also has a simple home made of reeds and cement, but she has three rooms and a toilet seat in her latrine--yay! Tiffany started a children's recreation center for kids in her village. The group is CACHES, and the theme is HIV/AIDS education and messages of hope for young kids. I don't know how to talk about the center without sounding cheesy, but it was beautiful. I never really saw anything like it in Lesotho. When I first visited CACHES, a big group of kids was dancing together. It was a very organized step-by-step dance led by an ebullient male volunteer. The man, Mario, who works during the day volunteers his time in the late afternoons at the center. Tiffany's boyfriend and others donate their time and energy there too. I was in awe the way the community came together to support the center and the kids who are mostly orphans. The second day I explored Xai-Xai a bit, then for lunch Tiffany's neighbor made a delicious chicken and peanut sauce with xima (like papa). Yum, it was so good!
I truly enjoyed experiencing Peace Corps in a different country. I feel like I know Mozambique better because I visited PCVs at their sites. Big thanks to Emily and Tiffany for hosting me!
Tuesday, July 7, 2009
Rainclouds in Paradise, or F*** You, Jellyfish
Good thing we relished in that sunny day on the beach in Tofo because we haven't had very many. It seems the precipitation is heavier than usual this winter in Mozambique. It's usually a tropical paradise this time of year with hot, but relatively mild temperatures. The last couple weeks though, have been quite chilly, especially at night, with consistent cloud cover and sporadic showers. Chris Conz and I couldn't complain though--it's still more pleasant weather than what we left in Lesotho.
Our last day in Tofo, CC and I packed up all of our belongings and laid on the beach like hobos with our backpacks for a few hours. It was hot and perfect--and our backpacks made good headrests. Then we met Kj and our new friend Erik for lunch in the Tofo market before taking the 1-hour bus ride to Inhambane where we stayed for 1 night. We arrived in Inhambane at dusk and watched the sun melt into the water. Our hostel was right on the waterfront , and we had a beautiful view for the next hour or so. The next morning we boarded the ferry to Maxixe (masheesh)--only a 10 meticais trip over rough water to the mainland. Then from Maxixe, we took a chapa (minibus taxi) to Vilankulos, a sleepy town on the coast about 4 hours north. Here we stayed at an awesome place called Zombie Cucumber, named after a book about Mozambique called "Kalishnikovs and Zombie Cucucumbers". I hope to read it soon when I can get my hands on a copy. This was our favorite place by far--friendly people and a cute, simple hut. We stayed at Zombie for 5 nights and loved it. We went on a dhow safari one day. There were 3 of us tourists--CC and I, and Wei, a female traveler from Singapore. Then there were 4 Mozambican guys manning the boat. We drove out to Magaruque, the smallest of the major islands making up the Bazaruto Archipelago. We walked around the picturesque island, ate a feast for lunch of barracuda and rice and pineapple and salad, then proceeded to snorkel after we stuffed ourselves. We got into the ocean from the beach wearing our fins and masks, confused as to why we were still at shore. But just a few meters off-shore was a gorgeous reef full of different kinds of fish. It was spectacular. CC and I even saw an octopus and a strange, long, thin fish that we can't find an accurate description/name for. Unfortunately the clouds covered the sun by the time we got in the water so it was too cold to stay in for very long. It was fabulous though--snorkeling is really fun, usually. The sky darkened and clouds covered the sky completely as we got back in the dhow. The motor broke shortly after departure so we had to sail the whole way back which takes a lot longer. That's when the whole crew came in handy-they even had to jump out and push the boat a couple times when it got caught in a sand bar. Sailing was nice except that it was cold, and it started raining as we approached the mainland. Our teeth chattered as we jumped off the boat at low tide and walked to shore. Luckily, Rodriquez, the dhow owner, picked us up in his truck and took us back to Zombie where hot-water showers awaited. It might have been my favorite day in Mozambique so far.
A couple days later, CC and I went on another adventure to a different island in the same archipelago. This time, CC went diving on 2-mile reef with a few people, and I snorkeled with two French guys on the other side of the reef. The water was way too rough for snorkeling, but we didn't want to do nothing so we jumped in anyway. I had trouble with my snorkel (it wouldn't fit in my mouth) plus the waves kept pushing me around. I kept coming up out of the water to fuss with my snorkel, and one of those times--BAM! Jellyfish to the face! No, not really, the jellyfish didn't lunge out of the water to sting my face, but a large blue jellyfish (bigger than my head) ran right into my arm and stung the shit out of me. It burned so bad, but I tried to tough it out. It got a big patch of my elbow and forearm, then some tentacles lashed my upper forearm... F*** you, Jellyfish. It's been almost 3 days, and I still have the marks on my arm. At least it stopped hurting by the next morning. After I got stung, I freaked out a little bit, mostly because I didn't know what hit me and I just saw this big blue blob rubbing up against me. If I hadn't been wearing a shorty wetsuit, my stomach and chest would've been stung too. Of course, if I had a full wetsuit I wouldn't have been stung at all. Hmmm. I snorkeled for a bit, but I just couldn't relax. Every time I saw a jellyfish, I frantically swam in the opposite direction. A woman on the boat had to swim out to tell me I was going the wrong way and missing the reef. There were lots of colorful fish and plants underwater, but I couldn't enjoy it amongst my burning arm, jellyfish paranoia, and seawater in my snorkel every other minute. So when the boat left to go pick up the divers, I tagged along and left the Frenchies alone--they weren't very friendly anyway. After all the divers and snorkelers were on the boat, we drove to Bazaruto Island for lunch and relaxation. CC and I walked up the big sand dune before eating out tuna sandwiches. The divers went out for the second dive in the afternoon, and the snorkelers were left to explore the island. I took a nap in the sun because it was a beautiful day. Then I did a bit of snorkeling off the island's shore. It wasn't as good as Magaraque and my jellyfish paranoia got the best of me so again I didn't stay in for very long. CC saw a lot of awesome marine life on his dives--giant turtles, reef sharks, stingrays, potato bass, and a longhead flathead. Unfortunately neither of us saw a Harry Hotlips which is my new favorite fish.
Yesterday I accompanied Chris Conz to the airport in Vilankulos. He's on his way back to Qacha's Nek, and I'm on my own for the next 2+ weeks in Moz. Next up, I'm visiting a few Peace Corps Mozambique volunteers in the southern part of the country. Should be interesting!
Our last day in Tofo, CC and I packed up all of our belongings and laid on the beach like hobos with our backpacks for a few hours. It was hot and perfect--and our backpacks made good headrests. Then we met Kj and our new friend Erik for lunch in the Tofo market before taking the 1-hour bus ride to Inhambane where we stayed for 1 night. We arrived in Inhambane at dusk and watched the sun melt into the water. Our hostel was right on the waterfront , and we had a beautiful view for the next hour or so. The next morning we boarded the ferry to Maxixe (masheesh)--only a 10 meticais trip over rough water to the mainland. Then from Maxixe, we took a chapa (minibus taxi) to Vilankulos, a sleepy town on the coast about 4 hours north. Here we stayed at an awesome place called Zombie Cucumber, named after a book about Mozambique called "Kalishnikovs and Zombie Cucucumbers". I hope to read it soon when I can get my hands on a copy. This was our favorite place by far--friendly people and a cute, simple hut. We stayed at Zombie for 5 nights and loved it. We went on a dhow safari one day. There were 3 of us tourists--CC and I, and Wei, a female traveler from Singapore. Then there were 4 Mozambican guys manning the boat. We drove out to Magaruque, the smallest of the major islands making up the Bazaruto Archipelago. We walked around the picturesque island, ate a feast for lunch of barracuda and rice and pineapple and salad, then proceeded to snorkel after we stuffed ourselves. We got into the ocean from the beach wearing our fins and masks, confused as to why we were still at shore. But just a few meters off-shore was a gorgeous reef full of different kinds of fish. It was spectacular. CC and I even saw an octopus and a strange, long, thin fish that we can't find an accurate description/name for. Unfortunately the clouds covered the sun by the time we got in the water so it was too cold to stay in for very long. It was fabulous though--snorkeling is really fun, usually. The sky darkened and clouds covered the sky completely as we got back in the dhow. The motor broke shortly after departure so we had to sail the whole way back which takes a lot longer. That's when the whole crew came in handy-they even had to jump out and push the boat a couple times when it got caught in a sand bar. Sailing was nice except that it was cold, and it started raining as we approached the mainland. Our teeth chattered as we jumped off the boat at low tide and walked to shore. Luckily, Rodriquez, the dhow owner, picked us up in his truck and took us back to Zombie where hot-water showers awaited. It might have been my favorite day in Mozambique so far.
A couple days later, CC and I went on another adventure to a different island in the same archipelago. This time, CC went diving on 2-mile reef with a few people, and I snorkeled with two French guys on the other side of the reef. The water was way too rough for snorkeling, but we didn't want to do nothing so we jumped in anyway. I had trouble with my snorkel (it wouldn't fit in my mouth) plus the waves kept pushing me around. I kept coming up out of the water to fuss with my snorkel, and one of those times--BAM! Jellyfish to the face! No, not really, the jellyfish didn't lunge out of the water to sting my face, but a large blue jellyfish (bigger than my head) ran right into my arm and stung the shit out of me. It burned so bad, but I tried to tough it out. It got a big patch of my elbow and forearm, then some tentacles lashed my upper forearm... F*** you, Jellyfish. It's been almost 3 days, and I still have the marks on my arm. At least it stopped hurting by the next morning. After I got stung, I freaked out a little bit, mostly because I didn't know what hit me and I just saw this big blue blob rubbing up against me. If I hadn't been wearing a shorty wetsuit, my stomach and chest would've been stung too. Of course, if I had a full wetsuit I wouldn't have been stung at all. Hmmm. I snorkeled for a bit, but I just couldn't relax. Every time I saw a jellyfish, I frantically swam in the opposite direction. A woman on the boat had to swim out to tell me I was going the wrong way and missing the reef. There were lots of colorful fish and plants underwater, but I couldn't enjoy it amongst my burning arm, jellyfish paranoia, and seawater in my snorkel every other minute. So when the boat left to go pick up the divers, I tagged along and left the Frenchies alone--they weren't very friendly anyway. After all the divers and snorkelers were on the boat, we drove to Bazaruto Island for lunch and relaxation. CC and I walked up the big sand dune before eating out tuna sandwiches. The divers went out for the second dive in the afternoon, and the snorkelers were left to explore the island. I took a nap in the sun because it was a beautiful day. Then I did a bit of snorkeling off the island's shore. It wasn't as good as Magaraque and my jellyfish paranoia got the best of me so again I didn't stay in for very long. CC saw a lot of awesome marine life on his dives--giant turtles, reef sharks, stingrays, potato bass, and a longhead flathead. Unfortunately neither of us saw a Harry Hotlips which is my new favorite fish.
Yesterday I accompanied Chris Conz to the airport in Vilankulos. He's on his way back to Qacha's Nek, and I'm on my own for the next 2+ weeks in Moz. Next up, I'm visiting a few Peace Corps Mozambique volunteers in the southern part of the country. Should be interesting!
Monday, June 29, 2009
Ocean Safari
Tofo is a cute, touristy, beach town about 400 km north of Maputo. Beautiful beaches, friendly locals, and a chill atmosphere—this is why I came to Mozambique. Chris and I met our PCV friends, Kjessie and Andre, at Turtle Cove in Tofinho, outside of Tofo, at a sweet surfer hang-out just a few minutes from the ocean. We were pretty beat after the 9-hour bus ride from the capital, but we couldn’t resist the atmosphere. We sat down with the surfer crowd and enjoyed the local beers (Manica is best, 2M most popular) while we waited for our fish kebab dinner. We’ve met some awesome people here.
The next day, the four of us and four others went out on an Ocean Safari led by Dave and Sean. They said the conditions were perfect for finding whale sharks—so we grabbed some snorkeling gear and jumped on the boat. When we reached the beach, we were informed that we would be helping with the “surf launch”. Basically, we all pushed the boat straight into the waves and jumped in as quickly as possible before the engine started. Then we blasted over the waves at full speed, bouncing up and down. Just the surf launch was exciting. After just a few minutes, Sean spotted some porpoises. We drove up next to them and everyone frantically put their snorkel gear on—mask and fins. It was so fast and exciting that I had trouble breathing calmly in the water. Luckily I didn’t miss the pod of dolphins a few meters underneath us—maybe two dozen or so. Naturally they swam away after a few minutes, then it was back in the boat off to find more sea creatures. We saw a whale breach in the distance soon after. Dave floored it and got so close to the whale we nearly hit it. As we approached it, the humpback whale launched out of the ocean again, turned mid-air, and landed on its back with a splash—breath-taking! It was really close to us, I’ve never seen anything like it. THEN we again got ready to jump in the water with the whale. I was ready this time with full gear already on. Kj and I were the first in the water and got to swim with the whale for an ecstatic few seconds before it swam off. Kj saw the head, I saw the ass. As soon as I saw it underwater, I froze. Kj swam after it. I just watched it disappear around the other side of the boat. That was crazy—a humpback. Then we drove after it, but it obviously wanted some alone time so we let it be.
Eventually, we spotted a whale shark! We ended up seeing two that day. I didn’t get a good look at the first one. All I saw was SHARK! And again froze in the water. I was much closer to the second one and stared at its gorgeous white on black pattern for a good couple of minutes I think. In a nutshell, I had an unforgettable day swimming in the ocean with a whale, dolphins, and whalesharks… oh yeah, and turtles too!
The last couple of days have been rainy, so hopefully the weather improves! We had a fabulous beach day yesterday.
The next day, the four of us and four others went out on an Ocean Safari led by Dave and Sean. They said the conditions were perfect for finding whale sharks—so we grabbed some snorkeling gear and jumped on the boat. When we reached the beach, we were informed that we would be helping with the “surf launch”. Basically, we all pushed the boat straight into the waves and jumped in as quickly as possible before the engine started. Then we blasted over the waves at full speed, bouncing up and down. Just the surf launch was exciting. After just a few minutes, Sean spotted some porpoises. We drove up next to them and everyone frantically put their snorkel gear on—mask and fins. It was so fast and exciting that I had trouble breathing calmly in the water. Luckily I didn’t miss the pod of dolphins a few meters underneath us—maybe two dozen or so. Naturally they swam away after a few minutes, then it was back in the boat off to find more sea creatures. We saw a whale breach in the distance soon after. Dave floored it and got so close to the whale we nearly hit it. As we approached it, the humpback whale launched out of the ocean again, turned mid-air, and landed on its back with a splash—breath-taking! It was really close to us, I’ve never seen anything like it. THEN we again got ready to jump in the water with the whale. I was ready this time with full gear already on. Kj and I were the first in the water and got to swim with the whale for an ecstatic few seconds before it swam off. Kj saw the head, I saw the ass. As soon as I saw it underwater, I froze. Kj swam after it. I just watched it disappear around the other side of the boat. That was crazy—a humpback. Then we drove after it, but it obviously wanted some alone time so we let it be.
Eventually, we spotted a whale shark! We ended up seeing two that day. I didn’t get a good look at the first one. All I saw was SHARK! And again froze in the water. I was much closer to the second one and stared at its gorgeous white on black pattern for a good couple of minutes I think. In a nutshell, I had an unforgettable day swimming in the ocean with a whale, dolphins, and whalesharks… oh yeah, and turtles too!
The last couple of days have been rainy, so hopefully the weather improves! We had a fabulous beach day yesterday.
Sunday, June 21, 2009
Music in Maputo
Mozambique is a bizarre place. A mix of Portuguese, African, and Arabic influences, it's far from the homogenous setting in Lesotho, even far from the black and white of South Africa. In Maputo, the capital, everyone seems to speak Portuguese (and very little English)--Spanish from elementary school, don't fail me now! It's strange hearing black African school kids speaking a European romance language as they're walking down the city streets. A stark difference from the US of A, there's a strong Socialist history and pride after their long, violent revolution that ended not so long ago. Most of the major city streets in Maputo are named after Socialist leaders--Avenida Karl Marx, Vladimir Lenin, and Ho Chi Minh, even popular leaders that the US decided didn't fit their agenda and most likely "took care of"--Salvador Allende and Patrice Lumumba. Lucky for me Mozambique doesn't seem to hold grudges.
Last night Chris Conz (my partner in crime for the next 2 weeks) and I went to a bar to see some live music. It was Saturday night and probably our last chance to experience nightlife in Mozambique. We arrived at Gil Vicenthe pretty early at 10pm, the live music didn't start until 11pm, and it was to be a "jam session." I was a little disappointed that it wasn't a specific artist, but Chris Conz had faith that it would be good. When the first band finally started at 11:30, I was thrilled to hear the catchy Afro-Latin fusion I had read about before coming to Moz. Throughout most of Southern Africa, various forms of kwaito are most popular (a mix of hip-hop and traditional African music), but this was definitely different. A simple trio, guitar, bass and drums, the band started with some Afro-fusion beats, then a man got up on stage and sang some cover songs with the band. I have never seen a jam session or "open-mic night" flow so smoothly. Various musicians came and went, but the music never stopped. My favorite guy, they were all men, was indubitably the African version of Tizoc Estrada on lead guitar. Eyes closed and guitar high on his torso, he moved his fingers so fast over the guitar strings my eyes couldn't keep up. My favorite songs were the Afro-Latin rhythms with Portuguese lyrics. The drum solo wasn't bad either, and the dude on the djembe drum was classic. Gotta love the djembe beats.
The 2-day trip to Maputo was no easy task. Chris Conz and I took a mini-bus to Johannesburg from Maseru, Lesotho. I was a little nervous because I had a giant rolly suitcase with me, in addition to my hiking backpack and shopping bag of food. I am storing the large suitcase in JB while I travel through Mozambique. CC and I had to walk with my big rolly suitcase from the drop-off point on Noord Street in a dangerous area of the Jo'burg taxi rank to the airport taxi on a street corner about a block away. Talk about a walking target in the Jo'burg taxi rank--a young white girl obviously bound for the international airport with a giant, awkward suitcase. Thank God Chris Conz was there--not only did he know the way, but he shlepped my suitcase too. We gave a young guy a few rand to walk with us even though Chris knew the way, and we made it safe and sound. We got picked up at the airport and headed to our Jo'burg Hostel. The Jo'burg Taxi Rank is always stressful so I was thrilled to be at our hostel, safe and sound with all my belongings. Thanks again to Chris Conz for helping me. :)
The next morning we were up at 5:30am to catch our bus to Maputo. Back to the Johannesburg Taxi Rank (the last time for me) led by a guy from our hostel who lives in JB. We took a roundabout way to the bus station via public transport that took a long time, and barely made our bus. 7 hours later we were at the South Africa/Mozambique border. A group of European soccer fans, CC, and I held up the bus waiting for our visas (South Africans don't need a visa to enter Moz). Lucky for Chris and I, there was a large group who needed visas or the bus would have left us. Another hour we arrived in Maputo, got off at Ave. Karl Marx and walked 20 minutes at dusk to our hostel. We were exhausted and hungry. We ate dinner at a near-by restaurant and went to sleep early.
Yesterday we went to the craft market and municipal market where I spent the most cash in one day than any other day in Africa. CC and I made a delicious shrimp stir-fry for dinner with all of our fresh food from the market before going out to see live music at Gil Vicenthe. Today art museums, tomorrow the bustling fish market...
Last night Chris Conz (my partner in crime for the next 2 weeks) and I went to a bar to see some live music. It was Saturday night and probably our last chance to experience nightlife in Mozambique. We arrived at Gil Vicenthe pretty early at 10pm, the live music didn't start until 11pm, and it was to be a "jam session." I was a little disappointed that it wasn't a specific artist, but Chris Conz had faith that it would be good. When the first band finally started at 11:30, I was thrilled to hear the catchy Afro-Latin fusion I had read about before coming to Moz. Throughout most of Southern Africa, various forms of kwaito are most popular (a mix of hip-hop and traditional African music), but this was definitely different. A simple trio, guitar, bass and drums, the band started with some Afro-fusion beats, then a man got up on stage and sang some cover songs with the band. I have never seen a jam session or "open-mic night" flow so smoothly. Various musicians came and went, but the music never stopped. My favorite guy, they were all men, was indubitably the African version of Tizoc Estrada on lead guitar. Eyes closed and guitar high on his torso, he moved his fingers so fast over the guitar strings my eyes couldn't keep up. My favorite songs were the Afro-Latin rhythms with Portuguese lyrics. The drum solo wasn't bad either, and the dude on the djembe drum was classic. Gotta love the djembe beats.
The 2-day trip to Maputo was no easy task. Chris Conz and I took a mini-bus to Johannesburg from Maseru, Lesotho. I was a little nervous because I had a giant rolly suitcase with me, in addition to my hiking backpack and shopping bag of food. I am storing the large suitcase in JB while I travel through Mozambique. CC and I had to walk with my big rolly suitcase from the drop-off point on Noord Street in a dangerous area of the Jo'burg taxi rank to the airport taxi on a street corner about a block away. Talk about a walking target in the Jo'burg taxi rank--a young white girl obviously bound for the international airport with a giant, awkward suitcase. Thank God Chris Conz was there--not only did he know the way, but he shlepped my suitcase too. We gave a young guy a few rand to walk with us even though Chris knew the way, and we made it safe and sound. We got picked up at the airport and headed to our Jo'burg Hostel. The Jo'burg Taxi Rank is always stressful so I was thrilled to be at our hostel, safe and sound with all my belongings. Thanks again to Chris Conz for helping me. :)
The next morning we were up at 5:30am to catch our bus to Maputo. Back to the Johannesburg Taxi Rank (the last time for me) led by a guy from our hostel who lives in JB. We took a roundabout way to the bus station via public transport that took a long time, and barely made our bus. 7 hours later we were at the South Africa/Mozambique border. A group of European soccer fans, CC, and I held up the bus waiting for our visas (South Africans don't need a visa to enter Moz). Lucky for Chris and I, there was a large group who needed visas or the bus would have left us. Another hour we arrived in Maputo, got off at Ave. Karl Marx and walked 20 minutes at dusk to our hostel. We were exhausted and hungry. We ate dinner at a near-by restaurant and went to sleep early.
Yesterday we went to the craft market and municipal market where I spent the most cash in one day than any other day in Africa. CC and I made a delicious shrimp stir-fry for dinner with all of our fresh food from the market before going out to see live music at Gil Vicenthe. Today art museums, tomorrow the bustling fish market...
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
Goodbye Lesotho, Hello Mozambique
I officially leave the country tomorrow. I have created a new blog for my month trip in Mozambique: http://mozbalch.blogspot.com/ Enjoy!
Thursday, June 11, 2009
New Country = New Blog
It just didn't feel right telling about my Mozambique experiences under my Lesotho blog so I've created a new one. I will be in Moz for almost 5 weeks. I will be traveling to the following areas of the country (making my way north):
1. Maputo
2. Tofo (Inhambane)
3. Vilankulos
4. Xai-Xai
5. Beira
6. Pemba
I'll be traveling with friends for the first 2 weeks, then heading out on my own to visit PCVs in Mozambique and then attending the Tambo International Art Camp in Pemba. I don't have much planned, and I'm really not sure what to expect at the "Art Camp", but I'm pretty sure it will be amazing. :)
My itinerary is as follows:
-lay on the beach
-read on the beach
-lay in a hammock
-drink cocktails with tiny umbrellas
-eat fresh seafood
-find "African fabric" for Grandma
-learn a little Portuguese
I'm a bit concerned about the last 2 on the list, but I think I can swing it. I leave for Jo'burg on Thursday, then taking the bus to Maputo Friday morning... can't wait!
1. Maputo
2. Tofo (Inhambane)
3. Vilankulos
4. Xai-Xai
5. Beira
6. Pemba
I'll be traveling with friends for the first 2 weeks, then heading out on my own to visit PCVs in Mozambique and then attending the Tambo International Art Camp in Pemba. I don't have much planned, and I'm really not sure what to expect at the "Art Camp", but I'm pretty sure it will be amazing. :)
My itinerary is as follows:
-lay on the beach
-read on the beach
-lay in a hammock
-drink cocktails with tiny umbrellas
-eat fresh seafood
-find "African fabric" for Grandma
-learn a little Portuguese
I'm a bit concerned about the last 2 on the list, but I think I can swing it. I leave for Jo'burg on Thursday, then taking the bus to Maputo Friday morning... can't wait!
Wednesday, June 10, 2009
Last Days in Qacha's Nek
My last days in Qacha's Nek were stressful and emotional, but in a good way. I had to say goodbye to many friends and good people that I've gotten to know well over the last 2 years. Some of them are Americans who have become some of my best friends. Some of them are Basotho who have been my family for the last 2 years in Qacha's Nek. Some of them are just friendly, familiar faces that I will miss seeing on a daily basis. I'm elated to know that my work in my village and the camptown touched people enough to thank me with hugs and gifts and songs.
I had a lot of work to do the last few weeks as well, finishing up projects and making sure everything will work okay after I leave (if possible). I painted a mural at a high school on their new library building. I gave the last of the Life Skills presentations at the prison and the primary school. I helped Ntate Nkhooa design a pamphlet for his Snake Park, the first in Lesotho. But mostly I tried to spend time with my good Basotho friends.
My Basotho family in Ha Manteko threw a party for me and presented me with a traditonal seshoeshoe dress and an African wall-hanging craft. We all danced until midnight including little 5-year old Thuto who shakes it better than anyone. I'll definitely miss Basotho parties where EVERYONE dances no matter their age, old or young. My ausi, sister, also gave me a seshoeshoe dress as a parting gift. Then the day I left, the 7th grade students that I taught at the primary school and the teachers gave me some cards 
and a couple small gifts, and they sang a departing song that went something like "may God bless and keep you til we meet again..." It was so sweet.
I'm in the capital, Maseru, now preparing to leave Lesotho and finish my Peace Corps service. Remember, I work for the U.S. Government so I have a ton of paperwork to fill out in addition to medical check-ups and other bureaucratic BS. I need about 20 signatures before I leave. yay.
It has certainly been a roller-coaster during the last 2 years in Lesotho, big ups and downs, and it went really fast. I can't believe my Peace Corps service is coming to a close, but I'm also very excited for the next chapters in my life. Next stop - Mozambique! Then I'm back in good ole Southern California by the end of July. :D
I had a lot of work to do the last few weeks as well, finishing up projects and making sure everything will work okay after I leave (if possible). I painted a mural at a high school on their new library building. I gave the last of the Life Skills presentations at the prison and the primary school. I helped Ntate Nkhooa design a pamphlet for his Snake Park, the first in Lesotho. But mostly I tried to spend time with my good Basotho friends.
My Basotho family in Ha Manteko threw a party for me and presented me with a traditonal seshoeshoe dress and an African wall-hanging craft. We all danced until midnight including little 5-year old Thuto who shakes it better than anyone. I'll definitely miss Basotho parties where EVERYONE dances no matter their age, old or young. My ausi, sister, also gave me a seshoeshoe dress as a parting gift. Then the day I left, the 7th grade students that I taught at the primary school and the teachers gave me some cards 
and a couple small gifts, and they sang a departing song that went something like "may God bless and keep you til we meet again..." It was so sweet.I'm in the capital, Maseru, now preparing to leave Lesotho and finish my Peace Corps service. Remember, I work for the U.S. Government so I have a ton of paperwork to fill out in addition to medical check-ups and other bureaucratic BS. I need about 20 signatures before I leave. yay.
It has certainly been a roller-coaster during the last 2 years in Lesotho, big ups and downs, and it went really fast. I can't believe my Peace Corps service is coming to a close, but I'm also very excited for the next chapters in my life. Next stop - Mozambique! Then I'm back in good ole Southern California by the end of July. :D
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
Dusk
I only have one month left in Qacha’s Nek, and I am starting to get quite nostalgic about everything. I don’t want to forget any of the people and places I know so well after two years.
Last night at dusk I took a short stroll outside to watch the sunset. On my way, I ran into two Basotho men wearing traditional blankets rolling a joint, apparently about to enjoy the sunset themselves. I greeted them in Sesotho, and they greeted me back. The older gentleman showed multiple missing teeth as he smiled and nodded. I often run into boys and men smoking weed when I walk down the hill behind my house around dusk—nobody minds here. As I pause to enjoy this beautiful time of day, my back is to the setting sun. Even more mesmerizing than the sunset is the vibrant reddish-orange color of the mountains opposite the sun. I soaked it all in—don’t forget! When the sun had gone and the orange faded, I walked back to my house to make dinner. I breathed in that familiar smell as I passed the smoking bo-ntate (men), and we greeted each other again and said good night. It’s winter now and very cold at night so I didn’t stay out long.
I have also been visiting my waterfall more frequently. About a 20-minute walk from my front door, I am standing above a beautiful waterfall maybe 10 stories tall. Another steep 40 minutes down and I’m at the bottom of it, but I usually just walk to the top and relish in “my” waterfall for a bit before heading back home. Lesotho is a gorgeous country, especially in the southern Drakensberg mountain area where I live. I will miss it dearly.
Last night at dusk I took a short stroll outside to watch the sunset. On my way, I ran into two Basotho men wearing traditional blankets rolling a joint, apparently about to enjoy the sunset themselves. I greeted them in Sesotho, and they greeted me back. The older gentleman showed multiple missing teeth as he smiled and nodded. I often run into boys and men smoking weed when I walk down the hill behind my house around dusk—nobody minds here. As I pause to enjoy this beautiful time of day, my back is to the setting sun. Even more mesmerizing than the sunset is the vibrant reddish-orange color of the mountains opposite the sun. I soaked it all in—don’t forget! When the sun had gone and the orange faded, I walked back to my house to make dinner. I breathed in that familiar smell as I passed the smoking bo-ntate (men), and we greeted each other again and said good night. It’s winter now and very cold at night so I didn’t stay out long.
I have also been visiting my waterfall more frequently. About a 20-minute walk from my front door, I am standing above a beautiful waterfall maybe 10 stories tall. Another steep 40 minutes down and I’m at the bottom of it, but I usually just walk to the top and relish in “my” waterfall for a bit before heading back home. Lesotho is a gorgeous country, especially in the southern Drakensberg mountain area where I live. I will miss it dearly.
Thursday, April 16, 2009
Joburg & Cape Town
Being a tourist can be fun. I play it down like it's lame, and I'd rather hang with the locals, but I can enjoy it in the right place. Cape Town, South Africa, is that place. There's so much to do in Cape Town, you can't help but be out and about with your camera every day.
I started off my vacation going to Johannesburg with my friend Jen, leaving from her site in northern Lesotho. We took a mini-bus, a little concerned about our safety in the Jo'burg taxi rank where we would be dropped off (supposedly the most dangerous area in South Africa). But like so many times before, our Sesotho language skills saved us. We always had the option of paying for a private taxi to pick us up and take us to our hostel, but we are thrifty Peace Corps volunteers and we weren't willing to give up 400ZAR that easily. We made friends with our driver, Ntate Bohloko (Mr. Pain), and he agreed to help us out. Help can come in many forms in Africa so we still weren't totally sure what would happen, but we were confident we'd be okay if a local driver was willing to give us a hand. It turned out Ntate Bohloko was truly willing to go the extra mile for our sorry American asses. He drove us to the huge taxi rank where we would hop on another mini-bus to take us to our hostel. Then, he parked the car in an illegal parking spot, got out of the car with us, walked us another 5 minutes to the mini-buses, then found the exact mini-bus we needed to take, discussed our situation with the driver, double-checked that he was taking us to the exact area we needed to go, and told Jen and I to tell him again just in case. He is a saint and the only reason we didn't get mugged in the Johannesburg taxi rank. The man barely spoke English and didn't know us at all, but he did us a huge favor that day. I can't tell you how many South Africans have helped me out when I really needed it--Ntate Bohloko being a prime example.
Johannesburg is a fabulous city. It reminded me more of LA than any other city in South Africa. Jen and I were only there for a couple days, but we enjoyed the city. We went out with some guys that worked at the hostel. On a Saturday night, they took us to a local bar for drinks and dancing where Jen and I were the only white people--that's always fun. :) The main event that lead us to Jo'burg, though, was the Joburg Art Fair where we could see contemporary art from all over the world, mostly from South Africa. It was a sophisticated art event, and I could not have been happier. Professionalism, paintings, sculpture, prints, art talks, artists, critics--it was paradise for an artist who has been living in an artless environment for so long.
Then, off to Cape Town on a domestic flight--pretty fancy for a PCV. We arrived in the evening, got picked up and were taken to our next hostel. We did some grocery shopping and saw a movie that night. The next day we took the train down to Simon's Town so we could see some African Penguins. The train tracks follow the coastline towards Cape Point so it was a gorgeous view of the beach for the last half of the ride. From Simon's Town, it was another 2 kilometers to Boulder's Beach where the penguins live so we took a stroll down main street. We didn't get very far when we found a patisserie serving delicious pastries and desserts. Lunch for dessert? Sure! We felt a little sick after lunch, but luckily a nice older couple at the patisserie offered us a ride down to Boulder's Beach. The penguins were everywhere, and we could walk right up to them. It was a perfect day trip.
The next day I went to see some art galleries around town, slightly disappointing. I guess I was too picky after the Joburg Art Fair. Then I took a bus to a suburb of Cape Town hoping to learn how to kite surf. Unfortunately the winds disappeared as soon as I got there, and it wasn't possible. Instead I laid on the beach and ate some chicken chow mein--delicious. I didn't swim in the ocean though, it was freezing! Even the sand was cold. I also took a nice 10k run from Green Point to Camps Bay with the beach on my right, and Table Mountain on my left. We also went to Robben Island for a day to see the famous prison where Nelson Mandela was imprisoned for many years during the apartheid regime in South Africa. He was released in 1990, and elected South Africa's first democrat President in 1994 after the fall of apartheid. After living in Southern Africa for 2 years, reading about Mandela's life, and hearing chilling stories from people who suffered during the apartheid regime, it's hard to describe the feeling I had being on that island and seeing the prison cells. It was moving to say the least, and I'm proud to say that I've been there. After a few days, a large group of more Peace Corps Volunteers arrived in Cape Town. We all stayed on busy Long Street amidst the bustling night life and shops. We ate good food, went to bars, and enjoyed the city life.
I started off my vacation going to Johannesburg with my friend Jen, leaving from her site in northern Lesotho. We took a mini-bus, a little concerned about our safety in the Jo'burg taxi rank where we would be dropped off (supposedly the most dangerous area in South Africa). But like so many times before, our Sesotho language skills saved us. We always had the option of paying for a private taxi to pick us up and take us to our hostel, but we are thrifty Peace Corps volunteers and we weren't willing to give up 400ZAR that easily. We made friends with our driver, Ntate Bohloko (Mr. Pain), and he agreed to help us out. Help can come in many forms in Africa so we still weren't totally sure what would happen, but we were confident we'd be okay if a local driver was willing to give us a hand. It turned out Ntate Bohloko was truly willing to go the extra mile for our sorry American asses. He drove us to the huge taxi rank where we would hop on another mini-bus to take us to our hostel. Then, he parked the car in an illegal parking spot, got out of the car with us, walked us another 5 minutes to the mini-buses, then found the exact mini-bus we needed to take, discussed our situation with the driver, double-checked that he was taking us to the exact area we needed to go, and told Jen and I to tell him again just in case. He is a saint and the only reason we didn't get mugged in the Johannesburg taxi rank. The man barely spoke English and didn't know us at all, but he did us a huge favor that day. I can't tell you how many South Africans have helped me out when I really needed it--Ntate Bohloko being a prime example.
Johannesburg is a fabulous city. It reminded me more of LA than any other city in South Africa. Jen and I were only there for a couple days, but we enjoyed the city. We went out with some guys that worked at the hostel. On a Saturday night, they took us to a local bar for drinks and dancing where Jen and I were the only white people--that's always fun. :) The main event that lead us to Jo'burg, though, was the Joburg Art Fair where we could see contemporary art from all over the world, mostly from South Africa. It was a sophisticated art event, and I could not have been happier. Professionalism, paintings, sculpture, prints, art talks, artists, critics--it was paradise for an artist who has been living in an artless environment for so long.
Then, off to Cape Town on a domestic flight--pretty fancy for a PCV. We arrived in the evening, got picked up and were taken to our next hostel. We did some grocery shopping and saw a movie that night. The next day we took the train down to Simon's Town so we could see some African Penguins. The train tracks follow the coastline towards Cape Point so it was a gorgeous view of the beach for the last half of the ride. From Simon's Town, it was another 2 kilometers to Boulder's Beach where the penguins live so we took a stroll down main street. We didn't get very far when we found a patisserie serving delicious pastries and desserts. Lunch for dessert? Sure! We felt a little sick after lunch, but luckily a nice older couple at the patisserie offered us a ride down to Boulder's Beach. The penguins were everywhere, and we could walk right up to them. It was a perfect day trip.
The next day I went to see some art galleries around town, slightly disappointing. I guess I was too picky after the Joburg Art Fair. Then I took a bus to a suburb of Cape Town hoping to learn how to kite surf. Unfortunately the winds disappeared as soon as I got there, and it wasn't possible. Instead I laid on the beach and ate some chicken chow mein--delicious. I didn't swim in the ocean though, it was freezing! Even the sand was cold. I also took a nice 10k run from Green Point to Camps Bay with the beach on my right, and Table Mountain on my left. We also went to Robben Island for a day to see the famous prison where Nelson Mandela was imprisoned for many years during the apartheid regime in South Africa. He was released in 1990, and elected South Africa's first democrat President in 1994 after the fall of apartheid. After living in Southern Africa for 2 years, reading about Mandela's life, and hearing chilling stories from people who suffered during the apartheid regime, it's hard to describe the feeling I had being on that island and seeing the prison cells. It was moving to say the least, and I'm proud to say that I've been there. After a few days, a large group of more Peace Corps Volunteers arrived in Cape Town. We all stayed on busy Long Street amidst the bustling night life and shops. We ate good food, went to bars, and enjoyed the city life.Saturday was the big Two Ocean Half Marathon for many people. A bunch of PCVs ran it including Jen and Chris Conz. That night we hit the town after a light nap. The next day, Easter Sunday, a few of us climbed Table Mountain. I was fine, but I was hiking with 3 guys that ran a half marathon the day before. The cable car ride to the top is for wimps. They were a sorry looking bunch, but they did it. Regardless, the view from the top was spectacular... once the wind died down so I could peel my eyes open. I should have tried kite surfing that day.
Before going home I went out to Stellenbosch with Chris Conz. The winelands there are beautiful and scenic, and the wine wasn't so bad either. We did a wine tasting tour, drank good South African wine, and ate good cheese. It was the perfect end to a great vacation.
Wednesday, April 1, 2009
A Little Poetry...
I wanted to post a lighter blog before I went on vacation and left you hanging (Under 5s was a little depressing). So I copied a favorite poem of mine that I discovered while I was in Lesotho. It speaks a lot about why I came to Africa, why I enjoyed my time here, and why it was difficult. I've read this poem many, many times since I've been in Lesotho. Enjoy!
To an English Friend in Africa
By Ben Okri
Be grateful for freedom
To see other dreams.
Bless your loneliness as much as you drank
Of your former companionships.
All that you are experiencing now
Will become moods of future joys
So bless it all.
Do not think your ways superior
To another's
Do not venture to judge
But see things with fresh and open eyes
Do not condemn
But praise what you can
And when you can't, be silent.
Time is now a gift for you
A gift of freedom
To think and remember and understand
The ever perplexing past
And to re-create yourself anew
In order to transform time.
Live while you are alive.
Learn the ways of silence and wisdom
Learn to act, learn a new speech
Learn to be what you are in the seed of your spirit
Learn to free yourself from all things that have moulded you
And which limit your secret and undiscovered road.
Remember that all things which happen
To you are raw materials
Endlessly fertile
Endlessly yielding of thoughts that could change
Your life and go on doing for ever.
Never forget to pray and be thankful
For all the things good or bad on the rich road;
For everything is changeable
So long as you live while you are alive.
Fear not, but be full of light and love;
Fear not but be alert and receptive;
Fear not but act decisively when you should;
Fear not, but know when to stop;
Fear not for you are loved by me;
Fear not, for death is not the real terror,
But life -magically - is.
Be joyful in your silence
Be strong in your patience
Do not try to wrestle with the universe
But be sometimes like water or air
Sometimes like fire
Live slowly, think slowly, for time is a mystery.
Never forget that love
Requires that you be
The greatest person you are capable of being,
Self-generating and strong and gentle-
Your own hero and star.
Love demands the best in us
To always and in time overcome the worst
And lowest in our souls.
Love the world wisely.
It is love alone that is the greatest weapon
And the deepest and hardest secret.
So fear not, my friend.
The darkness is gentler than you think.
Be grateful for the manifold
Dreams of creation
And the many ways of unnumbered peoples.
Be grateful for life as you live it.
And may a wonderful light
Always guide you on the unfolding road.
~Ben Okri
To an English Friend in Africa
By Ben Okri
Be grateful for freedom
To see other dreams.
Bless your loneliness as much as you drank
Of your former companionships.
All that you are experiencing now
Will become moods of future joys
So bless it all.
Do not think your ways superior
To another's
Do not venture to judge
But see things with fresh and open eyes
Do not condemn
But praise what you can
And when you can't, be silent.
Time is now a gift for you
A gift of freedom
To think and remember and understand
The ever perplexing past
And to re-create yourself anew
In order to transform time.
Live while you are alive.
Learn the ways of silence and wisdom
Learn to act, learn a new speech
Learn to be what you are in the seed of your spirit
Learn to free yourself from all things that have moulded you
And which limit your secret and undiscovered road.
Remember that all things which happen
To you are raw materials
Endlessly fertile
Endlessly yielding of thoughts that could change
Your life and go on doing for ever.
Never forget to pray and be thankful
For all the things good or bad on the rich road;
For everything is changeable
So long as you live while you are alive.
Fear not, but be full of light and love;
Fear not but be alert and receptive;
Fear not but act decisively when you should;
Fear not, but know when to stop;
Fear not for you are loved by me;
Fear not, for death is not the real terror,
But life -magically - is.
Be joyful in your silence
Be strong in your patience
Do not try to wrestle with the universe
But be sometimes like water or air
Sometimes like fire
Live slowly, think slowly, for time is a mystery.
Never forget that love
Requires that you be
The greatest person you are capable of being,
Self-generating and strong and gentle-
Your own hero and star.
Love demands the best in us
To always and in time overcome the worst
And lowest in our souls.
Love the world wisely.
It is love alone that is the greatest weapon
And the deepest and hardest secret.
So fear not, my friend.
The darkness is gentler than you think.
Be grateful for the manifold
Dreams of creation
And the many ways of unnumbered peoples.
Be grateful for life as you live it.
And may a wonderful light
Always guide you on the unfolding road.
~Ben Okri
Thursday, March 12, 2009
Under 5s
In Lesotho, and I imagine most of sub-Saharan Africa, there is a special term for infants and toddlers: under 5s. Many clinics and hospitals have an “Under 5s” day every week to check on babies’ health and give available vaccinations. After reading about Lesotho and/or sub-Saharan Africa and living here, it’s obvious this term exists because so many babies don’t make it to the age of 5. I fear I may have already written on this subject, but it has been haunting my thoughts for the last month and so would like to write a blog post about it…
Amidst the relatively new and popular concern over HIV and AIDS in sub-Saharan Africa, the age-old issue of malnourished and dying babies and children is still a huge contributor to deaths here. As many of you know, my ausi’s baby died last year around this time… I still don’t know the cause of death. I also have a friend who has had four children die before they reached the age of 2, and her 1-year old son is often sick and looks much younger than other children his age. She finally just tested for HIV, found out she was positive, and went on ARV treatment along with her son. Recently I witnessed a sick baby die as its mother waited for transport to the nearest hospital. Even more recently, my PCV friend’s young ausi had a pre-mature baby that died a few weeks after it was born. The poor girl married the boy who got her pregnant, as is custom when the parents know who the father is, only to have that baby die. Currently she’s in the hospital for a sickness that nobody can explain…
The thing that bothers me lately about this deadly trend is the mothers. It’s common for mothers to lose a child, if not many, whether it’s HIV, malnutrition, pre-mature birth, or a number of other diseases in Lesotho. Most of the mothers just don’t know any better. They’re too young or ignorant to take care of themselves, let alone another life that’s so fragile and needy. But mostly I think of the guilt and suffering that the mother endures when her baby dies. How do so many African women handle that burden, often alone, when most women in the States need years of counseling after a child’s death? The answer is clear—they suffer alone because they have to. Women don’t have money for grief counseling; they don’t even have money to keep their babies alive. And the few counselors that exist in Lesotho, often untrained and impatient anyway, could never handle the number of mothers suffering from the loss of their child. The event of a woman’s child dying is so common that it isn’t given proper attention within the Basotho culture.
Within this pretext, I am honored to be working at LPPA, Lesotho Planned Parenthood Association. This organization offers contraception to women who either aren’t ready to be a mother or don’t want any more mouths to feed. Currently we are also educating women and girls about family planning: what is it, and why is it important in Lesotho? And of course we are teaching girls about their own bodies, their rights, reasons to wait to have sex, and contraception if you can’t wait. Important messages for young girls so they won’t be young mothers. One of my wishes for Lesotho is that the idea of birth control catches on so young women and girls don’t have “unwanted pregnancy” and sick women don’t give birth to sick babies that will likely die before age 2.
Amidst the relatively new and popular concern over HIV and AIDS in sub-Saharan Africa, the age-old issue of malnourished and dying babies and children is still a huge contributor to deaths here. As many of you know, my ausi’s baby died last year around this time… I still don’t know the cause of death. I also have a friend who has had four children die before they reached the age of 2, and her 1-year old son is often sick and looks much younger than other children his age. She finally just tested for HIV, found out she was positive, and went on ARV treatment along with her son. Recently I witnessed a sick baby die as its mother waited for transport to the nearest hospital. Even more recently, my PCV friend’s young ausi had a pre-mature baby that died a few weeks after it was born. The poor girl married the boy who got her pregnant, as is custom when the parents know who the father is, only to have that baby die. Currently she’s in the hospital for a sickness that nobody can explain…
The thing that bothers me lately about this deadly trend is the mothers. It’s common for mothers to lose a child, if not many, whether it’s HIV, malnutrition, pre-mature birth, or a number of other diseases in Lesotho. Most of the mothers just don’t know any better. They’re too young or ignorant to take care of themselves, let alone another life that’s so fragile and needy. But mostly I think of the guilt and suffering that the mother endures when her baby dies. How do so many African women handle that burden, often alone, when most women in the States need years of counseling after a child’s death? The answer is clear—they suffer alone because they have to. Women don’t have money for grief counseling; they don’t even have money to keep their babies alive. And the few counselors that exist in Lesotho, often untrained and impatient anyway, could never handle the number of mothers suffering from the loss of their child. The event of a woman’s child dying is so common that it isn’t given proper attention within the Basotho culture.
Within this pretext, I am honored to be working at LPPA, Lesotho Planned Parenthood Association. This organization offers contraception to women who either aren’t ready to be a mother or don’t want any more mouths to feed. Currently we are also educating women and girls about family planning: what is it, and why is it important in Lesotho? And of course we are teaching girls about their own bodies, their rights, reasons to wait to have sex, and contraception if you can’t wait. Important messages for young girls so they won’t be young mothers. One of my wishes for Lesotho is that the idea of birth control catches on so young women and girls don’t have “unwanted pregnancy” and sick women don’t give birth to sick babies that will likely die before age 2.
Thursday, February 5, 2009
There Is Nothing As Beautiful As Wasting Time
An excerpt from Pablo Neruda’s Memoirs, I am in love with this philosophy. I have discovered this sentiment to be true in Africa, and I am grateful to her for that. Often Americans feel guilty about “wasting time.” We think, “I should be doing something productive with this empty slot of time!” I was guilty of this fallacy in the States as well, but now I appreciate my wasted time for its blissful and restorative qualities.
Pablo Neruda, a celebrated Chilean poet, eloquently declares, “If poets answered public-opinion polls truthfully, they would give the secret away: there is nothing as beautiful as wasting time. Everyone has his own style for this pastime, as old as time itself.”
Here in Lesotho, I waste hours and sometimes days, often doing literally nothing. This is supposed to be the hardest part of Peace Corps for most volunteers—spending hours at a time, especially at night, in solitude. Solitude and wasting time have been two of my favorite activities in Lesotho, and probably most of my personal and worldly growth during my 2 years in Peace Corps has occurred during these times.
Granted, every so often I actually feel bored or get sick of just waiting. Still, Basotho have taught me to value the time in between doing things. Sometimes I sit in my comfy chair in my hut and contemplate the meaning of life, sometimes I go for a walk in my backyard of mountains and rivers (and a waterfall!), sometimes I read, every once and a while I lay on the grass and watch the stars at night or the clouds in the day (I swear they move so much faster in Lesotho!), often I lay in bed for another hour… at least.
In his Memoirs, Pablo mentions the beauty of wasting time and unique styles of doing so in the context of hanging out with other poet friends. I can relate. Marlowe and I used to entertain ourselves and waste hours with grocery carts, Legos, imaginary Red & Gold dances to the Ghostbusters theme song by Run DMC (any Beads reading this??). Or Tewksbury and I would have extended conversations in the mornings about a variety of topics, from farts to surrealism. Of course these are just a few of my favorite ways to waste time with friends. In my current setting, a day spent with Pam eating our weight in fried foods and baked goods, or shaking my booty with Kj for a solid 4 hours, or chatting with Nozipho while her cousin braids and unbraids her hair are among my best times in Peace Corps Lesotho. BUT I have learned to appreciate my alone time more, even if only because I’ve had time to explore what I want in life right now, what’s important to me, and why.
So waste some time today—and enjoy it!
Pablo Neruda, a celebrated Chilean poet, eloquently declares, “If poets answered public-opinion polls truthfully, they would give the secret away: there is nothing as beautiful as wasting time. Everyone has his own style for this pastime, as old as time itself.”
Here in Lesotho, I waste hours and sometimes days, often doing literally nothing. This is supposed to be the hardest part of Peace Corps for most volunteers—spending hours at a time, especially at night, in solitude. Solitude and wasting time have been two of my favorite activities in Lesotho, and probably most of my personal and worldly growth during my 2 years in Peace Corps has occurred during these times.
Granted, every so often I actually feel bored or get sick of just waiting. Still, Basotho have taught me to value the time in between doing things. Sometimes I sit in my comfy chair in my hut and contemplate the meaning of life, sometimes I go for a walk in my backyard of mountains and rivers (and a waterfall!), sometimes I read, every once and a while I lay on the grass and watch the stars at night or the clouds in the day (I swear they move so much faster in Lesotho!), often I lay in bed for another hour… at least.
In his Memoirs, Pablo mentions the beauty of wasting time and unique styles of doing so in the context of hanging out with other poet friends. I can relate. Marlowe and I used to entertain ourselves and waste hours with grocery carts, Legos, imaginary Red & Gold dances to the Ghostbusters theme song by Run DMC (any Beads reading this??). Or Tewksbury and I would have extended conversations in the mornings about a variety of topics, from farts to surrealism. Of course these are just a few of my favorite ways to waste time with friends. In my current setting, a day spent with Pam eating our weight in fried foods and baked goods, or shaking my booty with Kj for a solid 4 hours, or chatting with Nozipho while her cousin braids and unbraids her hair are among my best times in Peace Corps Lesotho. BUT I have learned to appreciate my alone time more, even if only because I’ve had time to explore what I want in life right now, what’s important to me, and why.
So waste some time today—and enjoy it!
Tuesday, January 6, 2009
Got My Hair Did, or... Christmas in Lesotho
The month of December slows down where jobs and work are concerned, but family life and socializing bustles with the holiday spirit. Basotho have been saving their money for months, and they spend everything they have over Christmas. The men gather at the shebeens to drink beers all day and night. The women prepare and cook obscene amounts of food while gossiping in the kitchen.
Most women get their hair done as well for the holidays. Hairstyles vary from simple cornrows to elaborate w
eaves. My PCV friend Akoua and I have been talking about going to the hair saloon (yes, they say saloon) for a few months now, so we decided to join all the Basotho women in getting our hair done for Christmas (or as Missy Elliott says… “Got my hair did.”). We walked to an obscure building in the taxi-rank in Maseru Durban
I stayed inLesotho Lesotho
The day after Christmas is also a holiday, Boxing Day. Nozipho’s family had another feast for Lehle, a little cousin who just finished pre-school. A sheep was slaughtered for him, and many drinks were imbibed. The party roared into the night with more drinks and a second meal at
10pm, a braai (or BBQ) of sausage and papa. Everyone danced all night to house, hip-hop, and traditional music. And when I say everyone, I mean everyone—aunts, uncles, grandma, little cousins, and big cousins all danced the night away. I finally went home with some neighbors of mine at 1am, although most of the family was still awake and drinking.
Then on the 27th, there was another party for Nozipho’s daughter, Litsitso. Another feast, more drinks. I left this party early though. I was still tired from the night before and couldn’t stop yawning. I had a great time with Nozipho’s family although I still missed my own inCalifornia
For the New Year, I traveled toDurban Durban
I hope all of you had a wonderful holiday. Best wishes for 2009. Happy New Year!
Most women get their hair done as well for the holidays. Hairstyles vary from simple cornrows to elaborate w
eaves. My PCV friend Akoua and I have been talking about going to the hair saloon (yes, they say saloon) for a few months now, so we decided to join all the Basotho women in getting our hair done for Christmas (or as Missy Elliott says… “Got my hair did.”). We walked to an obscure building in the taxi-rank in I stayed in
The day after Christmas is also a holiday, Boxing Day. Nozipho’s family had another feast for Lehle, a little cousin who just finished pre-school. A sheep was slaughtered for him, and many drinks were imbibed. The party roared into the night with more drinks and a second meal at
10pm, a braai (or BBQ) of sausage and papa. Everyone danced all night to house, hip-hop, and traditional music. And when I say everyone, I mean everyone—aunts, uncles, grandma, little cousins, and big cousins all danced the night away. I finally went home with some neighbors of mine at 1am, although most of the family was still awake and drinking.Then on the 27th, there was another party for Nozipho’s daughter, Litsitso. Another feast, more drinks. I left this party early though. I was still tired from the night before and couldn’t stop yawning. I had a great time with Nozipho’s family although I still missed my own in
For the New Year, I traveled to
I hope all of you had a wonderful holiday. Best wishes for 2009. Happy New Year!
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