Starting Out the New Year

It’s late Friday morning in Qacha’s Nek, and I’m feeling good. November and December were stressful months because I was somewhat homeless and disheveled. Thankfully Peace Corps paid for a hotel stay, and when I didn’t want to eat hotel food Adam let me sleep on his floor and eat his food. I’m finally settling into my new home. When I first returned to Qacha’s Nek after vacation (more on that later), my family was still away on holiday. I was at my new home by myself and the anti-malaria meds gave me nightmares and paranoia so the first week was rough—I didn’t sleep much. My next door neighbors have been great though and made sure I was comfortable and safe. My ausi (sister) returned home yesterday so now my home feels like a home. My ausi is a young teacher who is still attending school (a sort of long distance college education from South Africa), and says I will have to help her with her studies. I told her I will do my best. I still have to meet many of my new neighbors and establish myself in my community, but so far I’m happy in my new home.

I was not putting in many hours at work during the move in November, and I spent a lot of time in Maseru and on vacation in December. The New Year for me marks a new beginning in Qacha’s Nek, not only because of my new home but I will be returning to work fully with some new ideas and energy. School re-opens at the end of January, and in February my counterpart at LPPA and I will begin giving presentations to high school students about reproductive health and their bodies. I will also be speaking to the prisoners in small groups at the Qacha’s Nek Correctional Facility; we will discuss HIV/AIDS at first, and then hopefully they will tell me what they want to learn about. PSI/Lesotho Headquarters has asked me to paint a mural in Maseru, hopefully the first of many—I’m looking forward to that.

Next week I will be back in Maseru for a Peace Corps Conference, then back to work in Qacha.

VACATION:My South African vacation was awesome. I spent almost every day at the beach, and almost every night at the bar. The bartenders at our backpackers hostel were fun and let us pick our favorite music. I don’t think I’ve ever danced so much in one week. I really enjoyed driving our little rental car too. Although disorienting at first, I soon got used to driving on the left side of the road and shifting gears with my left hand—I ended up driving most of the way there and back. We had the windows open and the music on loud—we were free! At the Wild Coast, I almost ran over some little monkeys that were crossing the road. We saw some zebras and ostriches from the road too, and we could see monkeys hanging out in the trees outside our backpacker. We got all dressed up for New Year’s Eve which was fun because most everyone else wore shorts and jeans. I put on make-up for the first time in 6 months. We all had a great time dancing and drinking, but most of New Year’s Day was spent nursing a hangover. Ho lokile (ho lohkeelay: it’s ok), I was still at the beach.

Merry Christmas & Happy New Year!

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!

"KEA MATHA!"

Again, a lot has happened since I last blogged. I have moved to a new house (almost all moved) with a new family and new neighbors and a new last name all of which I don't know yet. Peace Corps deemed my house too dangerous so they found me a new place on the opposite end of the same village. Nothing happened to me, but Peace Corps is keen on preventing violence before it happens so they wanted me to move -- don't worry! I was staying at hotels and friends' houses for the first 2 weeks of November while the logistics of my new house were being worked out. Then last week I went to the Cherry Festival in Ficksburg, South Africa with a big group of fellow volunteers. Then Thanksgiving at my friend Kjessie's house where I may or may not have slaughtered a chicken for dinner. Now I'm in the capital of Lesotho, Maseru, for more Peace Corps training. In my next blog there will be more details about my new house, how work is going, and how I'm feeling. But first I have a little story I want to share with you.


In Peace Corps Lesotho (and I imagine in Peace Corps all around the globe), no volunteer can escape the inevitability of diarrhea...

"Lockdown" was finally over--no longer confined to my district, my friend Adam invited me to go to the Cherry Festival in South Africa with some other volunteers. Excited to get out of Qacha's Nek for a few days I enthusiastically agreed. We got on a kombi to Maseru, the capital of Lesotho on the other side of the country, at 6am and prepared ourselves for the uncomfortably cramped and long 7-hour ride. In Lesotho (and many African countries), public transportation is an adventure in itself. Most kombis, similar to large vans for high school sports teams but bigger, are supposed to hold about 16 people safely and comfortably. But I'm in Africa, so a comfortable 16-seater transforms into a clown car for 25 or 30 people squished in the seats and the aisle crammed with others standing. Luckily I had a window seat so I could gaze out at the beautiful mountainous landscape along the way. Unfortunately the woman who sat next to me weighed a good 250 lbs and had a young child on her lap with a leaky water bottle. The seats in the kombi are small so I was forced to share some of my seat with the large woman next to me who freely rested her hands and bags and child on my lap at times (which is common -- Basotho don't believe in personal space).

Soon after the half-way point between Qacha's Nek and Maseru, my stomach started to hurt. At first it was no big deal, usually if my stomach hurts it goes away pretty quickly. Unfortunately this was not one of those harmless stomach growls, and it got a lot worse. As my insides got more angry I started to panic. I knew I would have to go to the bathroom soon, but I had another 4 hours to go and was in the middle of nowhere. A few outhouses flew by as I longingly stared at them out the window. I didn't know what to do. If I told the driver I needed to get out of the car because I was sick, he could just drive off without me, leaving me in the middle of nowhere without my luggage and few alternatives to get to the capital. I sweated it out for a half hour or so longer until I HAD to get off the kombi to take care of business. I slowly stood up in the back of the bus, stepped over the large woman and child, pushed my way through every man and woman in the aisle, and made my way to the sliding door. I said to the driver, "Kea kula. Ke hloka ho theoha honajoale. Kea matha!" Translations: Kea kula = I am sick, Ke hloka ho theoha honajoale = I need to get off now, Kea matha = I am running (you have to think about this one, it has more than one meaning). He stopped the kombi to let me off, and before I left the vehicle I asked him in English, "Ntate, will you wait for me?" with just a hint of desperation in my voice. He said yes and seemed to be genuine so I darted across the road down a little hill to a large bush and made sure no one could see me. Well, then you know what happened, the whole time thinking the bus could abandon me and take off for Maseru as I pulled my pants up. A woman walked over to my general area and shyly said "We are waiting for you" as I actually was buckling my belt. They hadn't left me! I ran back to the bus apologizing and thanking everyone. I was kind of embarrassed but moreso extremely relieved (in more ways than one). Most of the Basotho passengers were chuckling when I again inched my way through the crowd in the aisle to my window seat. The toddler on the large woman's lap burst out laughing when he realized where I had been. This time I let the big lady sit near the window so my insides weren't being squished even though that meant there was only room for one of my butt cheeks on my seat. Thank God I felt fine for the rest of the trip! In fact I even had a soft serve cone in the capital. Then it was another 2 hours up to our friend's house where we were staying near Ficksburg. Just a day in the life.

More to come in the next few days about Ficksburg Cherry Festival, Thanksgiving events, and more! See photo below from our Thanksgiving Day hike.