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.